Chapter 12
Alessandro
Sofia looks absolutely stunning as she sits across from me at the table.
Her tanned skin is glowing in the moonlight, her hair curled, and her face made up—quite a difference from the state she was in earlier today.
The dress she’s wearing almost made me send her back up to the room.
She seems to have an obsession with skimpy outfits, so of course she’d put on a short, form-fitting dress.
It looks amazing on her, but I caught people ogling as we walked down to the patio that overlooks the city.
Or maybe they were wondering why I even let her outside in the first place.
There’s plenty of room on my balcony to share a meal.
But what could possibly happen? She’s wearing six-inch heels as I instructed; she’s not going to start running down the rock-littered trail to try to run away.
And I’m not stupid. I am aware that she may have orchestrated this whole affair.
But so what if she did? All she’ll learn is that there are dozens of guards and staff she would need to walk past to get out of the castle, and if she got out here, there are more waiting.
And if she wasn’t faking her depression? Then I know all too well what that level of isolation she is experiencing is like, and I view this dinner as a precautionary measure to make sure her days will not be spent trying to find ways to harm herself.
She flicks around the vegetables on her plate, and she’s only taken a bite or two from her fish.
“Is it not to your liking?” I ask, breaking the silence for the first time tonight. I was true to my word—I held my tongue and refrained from making any rude comments so she could eat in peace. But she’s not eating.
“No, it’s fine. I don’t have much of an appetite, though.”
I clench my fists underneath the table. “You said coming out here would help with that. Did you lie to me?”
“Well, clearly I was mistaken.” She rolls her eyes. “Believe it or not, I have trouble eating when I’m extremely stressed. And I know you’re not a people-person, so maybe you haven’t picked up that I’m extremely stressed.”
“And what are you stressed about?”
Well, there goes my attempt at not being an asshole.
She drops her fork on the plate, her face flushing with anger.
I don’t know why I love pissing her off so much, but seeing that fiery look in her eye is always the highlight of my day.
I stuff down the thought that maybe I wanted to take her out here to see that look again rather than her lying depressed in bed.
“What am I stressed about? You ruined my wedding, kidnapped me to hold me in your tiny, boring apartment. You tried to kill members of my family. And in general? You’re awful to be around. So, yeah. I’m stressed out, asshole.”
I rub my hand against my chin to conceal my smile.
“Well, why don’t you try calming down? Look over your shoulder, there’s a picturesque nighttime view, we’re sharing a multi-course dinner from our in-house Michelin Star chef, I don’t know women’s fashion but I’m sure that little dress you’re wearing is more expensive than the average citizen’s monthly take-home pay.
I have been nothing but a gentleman to you—”
“A gentleman!?”
“Yes. A gentleman.” I lean back in my chair, curious what she’s going to say next.
Her chair scrapes against the stone of the patio as she stands up. “This was a mistake.” She rests her hands on her hips. “I want to go back up.”
I notice the various guards eyeing the situation brewing. It can’t look like she’s running the show. I stand up, meeting her at eye-level. I typically tower over her, but in the shoes she’s wearing, we’re practically the same height.
“Sit down and finish your meal. I don’t know if you’re attempting a hunger-strike but I will not tolerate it.”
She says nothing and narrows her eyes at me.
“Or I’ll bend you over my lap right here in front of everyone.”
Sofia takes two steps back, laughing in disbelief. “I cannot believe you just said that to me.”
“I told you, I’m a gentleman.” I take a few steps so that I’m standing directly in front of her. “I’d prefer not to cause you serious harm, so my options are limited when you don’t behave.”
She bites her lip; her eyes look glassy. I notice her chest heaving in and out from her anger. I feel my cock twitch, and I wonder if maybe I’m having too much fun with all of this.
“I bet you’d get off on that, wouldn’t you? Spanking me in front of all of your henchmen?”
“I would.” I shrug, then reach my hand forward to play with her hair. “But what I’m desperate to know is… would you as well?”
She bats my hand away and then pushes me aside, plopping back down into her chair. She bites her lip, her eyes darting away from me briefly. I can tell from how flushed she is, that look in her eye, that small amount of sweat forming in her hairline—that little threat woke something up in her.
She’s not humiliated or embarrassed by what I said… instead? It seems like we may be on the same page with something, although she won’t admit it out loud.
How interesting.
“Eat.”
Not meeting me in the eye, she picks up her fork and continues to stir around her vegetables.
I swear under my breath, not wanting to push her any further. She looked so sad, so helpless on the bed and, truthfully, I wanted to cheer her up as difficult as it is to admit. But our personalities are oil and water. I’m literally incapable of making her feel better despite my efforts.
Strained silence stifles the air as I make progress one bite at a time, contemplating my new lifestyle.
I never realized how foreign living with someone would seem.
Even as a young boy, I’ve always had my own space—Marco didn’t want me to live in his wing of the castle.
I filled my life with books and a rotation of hobbies to keep me company.
I’ve considered adopting a dog or a cat to add some life to my home, but having something dependent on me fills me with a feeling I can’t quite put my finger on. Resentment? Annoyance? Fear?
All I know is, Sofia is triggering this feeling in me by refusing to eat.
I sense his malevolent presence before I look up to see him. Marco.
Fuck.
He has been at Vincenzo’s bedside since the shooting or holed away in his wing, so I thought it would be safe coming out here with Sofia. He’s not going to approve of me taking her out here.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I told him I was treating her horrifically, and here she is looking like a goddamn celebrity in this dress and this makeup.
He heads directly towards our table, his posse following close behind him. I didn’t think it was possible, but he looks more crazed than usual. And he hasn’t even looked at me once since I noticed him come out of the castle. His eyes have been on Sofia the whole time.
Sofia is completely unaware of the cyclone of shit forming in the atmosphere. My heart pounds in my chest as she continues to stir her food around despondently. He might fucking kill her.
Marco doesn’t greet us or even politely pause at the table. He immediately grabs Sofia by the arm, yanking her from her chair and looking her up and down.
I stand up as she looks in horror towards me.
“What the fuck is this, Alessandro?” He finally turns to look at me, spitting as he talks.
“Marco, this is Sofia. My wife.”
I never dropped my sarcasm habit around Marco despite it causing many beatings and various punishments growing up.
She flinches as his grip on her tightens. My mouth goes dry, and I feel helpless. I could shoot Marco in the head, then one of his guards would surely kill me, and that wouldn’t help her at all.
“Well, look at this beautiful glowing girl.” Marco purrs with hostility. “Alessandro has been giving you a life of luxury, hasn’t he? While my son lies in the infirmary, dying!”
She frantically shakes her head, any feistiness she had earlier, gone. “No. I’ve been so sad and scared this whole time. He took me out here only because I threatened to kill myself.”
Marco lets go of her and pulls his gun on her.
I swear my heart stops and time slows as Sofia drops to the ground in fear.
“Marco…”
“You shut the fuck up, Alessandro! You clearly can’t handle this situation, and I have to take care of it for you.
” His cold eyes glare at me, his gun still aimed at her.
“When she told you this, why didn’t you simply tie her up instead?
Have one of your soldiers watch her twenty-four seven.
Instead, you bring her outside for a little date night.
” His lips curl into a cruel smile. “Wait… you actually like her, don’t you? ”
He puts his gun back and begins pacing around. I keep my eyes away from Sofia, trying to remain as stoic as possible. Is there something in what this madman is saying? Do I have feelings for her?
I just thought about how much I hated the lifestyle change of having a wife living with me. Shouldn’t I be happy that Marco might kill her in the next few minutes?
An unbearable feeling of dread fills my chest when he aims the gun back at her.
“Is this what you want, sweetheart? To die?”
“No, no! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything like that,” she sobs.
That cruel smile appears on his face again. I thought I had improved at being able to predict Marco, but his next move surprises me.
He turns his gun around and extends it out towards her.
I notice her shaking. She doesn’t reach for it, her desperate eyes flicking between Marco and I, unsure of what to do.
“Take the gun,” he hisses.
She does as he says, holding it in both of her hands on her lap.
“Now,” Marco says. “Either you or Alessandro are going to die tonight.”
She gasps and looks at me in fear. My gut feeling is that Marco is bluffing. We received her family’s first wire-transfer. And me? His threats are common, but he cares about my sister too much to kill me.
“You have three options, Sofia. Option one: kill yourself. Option two: kill Alessandro. Or option three: give running away a try, and I’ll have Alessandro hunt you down.”
“W-what?” she asks.
“I won’t repeat myself.”
Her scared, doe-like eyes find me again, and I have a morbid curiosity if she’s going to choose option two.
Sofia stands up on wobbly legs, kicking off her shoes. She keeps the gun poorly aimed at Marco and his men as she back-pedals towards the trail. I look at her hands—she doesn’t even know how to hold the damn thing. That’s a disgrace. Elena learned how to shoot a gun when she was twelve.
Once she rounds the first corner of the trail, I see her turn and sprint.
Marco turns to face me, looking pleased with himself. “Bring her back alive. If I ever see her happy again, you both will be moved to the dungeon where she will be endlessly tortured and you will watch.”
“Fuck. You.” I feel fury wash over me. And I’m failing to mask it so much that Marco looks apprehensive for a minute. I shouldn’t have let him see how much this affected me. It’s apparent to me that Sofia is becoming a weakness. And now Marco sees that too.
I take a step to go after her, but his hand lands on my shoulder. “Let’s make this interesting. Give her a few minutes.”
“She’s run marathons before.” I know this detail from when I stalked her Instagram.
“Well, maybe you should have considered that before taking her outside the walls of the castle.”
His hand squeezes my shoulder for who knows how long—time is warped from the rush of adrenaline.
Then the weight of his hand comes off.
“Go.”