Chapter 24
Sofia
Now that he’s stepped out of the room, the door closing behind him, and I’m left hanging in this vast, brightly lit gym: my wrists sting, my legs shake, my clit still aches for him to come back.
I feel like such a fool. I let him toy with me all he wanted, enjoying myself while my legs were wrapped around him as he fucked me.
When he kissed me, it was so passionate, and yet I wonder if he did all of that to make it hurt worse when he left me here.
I know that in other circumstances I can jump up high enough to grab the pull-up bar, even if it was meant for someone taller than me.
But now I’m exhausted, and my tiptoes barely touch the ground, so there’s no hope of me reaching up to hold on to the bar, looping my legs around, and trying to untie myself.
Instead of doing anything useful, I flail around until my wrists scream in pain.
I bite my lip to stop tears from forming.
I tried to mask my excitement when he was going to bind me beneath the pull-up bar because I knew he had something fun in mind.
I thought we were playing, but him leaving me strung up alone and vulnerable paints a different picture.
It’s as if a spell was cast over me as I complied with every instruction he gave me because I craved his touch that much.
I kick against the wall, continuing to flail because I have nothing better to do and the pain in my wrists is relieving some of my stress—or at least giving me something else to focus on.
I kick as hard as I can, my body slamming into the hard wall, and I’m sure bruising the entire backside of my body.
How long is he going to leave me hanging like this?
When he was supporting me, this wasn’t bad, but simply hanging is torture.
My arms are going numb, and I feel like I can’t breathe.
“For fuck’s sake, stop it, Sofia!”
The boom of his voice makes me sink down into a heap.
I guess that answers that question; he was watching me from the hallway the whole time.
Now I feel stupid—of course he was—but I never know if he’s going to turn at any minute and actually behave like a captor rather than whatever the hell it is we actually are.
I can’t bear to look at him as he cuts the resistance band, catching me and gently lowering me to the ground.
I try to wrap my arms around myself, but he catches hold of my arm, inspecting my raw wrists.
He curses under his breath. “Five minutes. I left you hanging for five minutes, and you do this to yourself?”
“I didn’t know!” I scream at him so loudly it makes him jump. “I didn’t know what was happening—if we were still playing or if you were genuinely torturing me. You confuse me so goddamn much. I used to hate you; sometimes I’m afraid of you, but then sometimes I…”
“You what?”
"I really, really like you.”
I wrap my arms around myself again, feeling myself shake. I don’t know if I’m shivering from the cold or just upset, but the next thing I know is that he’s unbuttoning his shirt to give to me.
“I don’t want it,” I growl.
“Really, Sofia?”
“I don’t want you treating me nicely anymore.
I don’t want you to be comforting or protective anymore.
I don’t want you telling me about your childhood or talking about yourself at all.
And I don’t want you to touch me like that ever again.
I want you to act like you’re meant to—a horrible, sadistic captor.
Because, this back and forth is worse than if you actually kept me in the dungeon and tortured me. ”
He sighs. “You know I’m incapable of doing that. I assume you found a way to relay that message to your family, and the fact you haven’t told me how is why we got into this mess.”
He finishes unbuttoning his shirt and wraps it around me, refusing to listen. Being surrounded in his scent brings me immediate comfort, which only angers me more, but I’m sick of being naked so I don’t shrug it off.
I slink to the ground, wrapping my arms around my knees and resting my head on them as well.
“There was a man on the cleaning crew who abruptly quit recently, Tommaso. Around my age, light brown hair, clean-shaven…”
I never caught his name, but that sounds like the man that helped me.
“And he’s gone now?”
Alessandro sits down so that we’re sitting at eye-level. “Yes. That was him?”
I hide my face again, not wanting to reveal to Alessandro that he has the right man in his mind. He could be lying. But the real reason is—I don’t want him to win this power struggle we have going on.
He groans. “He’s probably fled the country already, Sofia. You’re seriously not going to cooperate?”
“I told you.” My voice is flat. “You’ll have to actually torture information out of me now. I’m done playing hostage one day and playing out these sexual fantasies another.”
I see genuine pain register on his face, but he quickly conceals it with anger.
My heart flutters at that, and I question what Alessandro really thinks of me.
I always assumed his hesitation to cause me physical harm was the strange culture I’ve been brought up with, where the men can treat one another like animals but freak out at the sight of a woman with so much as a paper cut.
“Marco’s dead.” He gets up to pace around. “You know, none of this was my plan, right?”
“Tying me up beneath a pull-up bar and fucking me?”
“No.” He turns to me, rolling his eyes. “What happened at the wedding? The agreement we developed with your family. The fact I couldn’t treat you like my… like my wife.”
I laugh. “You’ve resented me since day one. Now you want me to believe you were simply following Marco’s orders this whole time?”
“I was quick to judge you initially, yes. But now…”
His eyes find mine with such intensity, like he’s dying to tell me something but his jaw is wired shut.
I know what he wants to say. That being near me makes him feel alive in a way he’s never experienced before. That even though we’re in this bizarre situation, I’m still a source of comfort to him. That time seems to drag in slow-motion whenever we’re separated.
At least that’s how I feel about him now. I could help him out and say these things. But I feel frozen just like him. The reality of the two of us having this much chemistry is some type of cruel joke—two of the most stubborn people falling for one another.
I raise my eyebrows, trying to get him to finish his thought.
“Now… now…” He swears and paces around again. “Do you know what was going through my mind after the video call with your family?”
I shake my head.
“I was terrified that you’d left—that you’d found a way out of the castle and I’d never see you again. Then with how Marco’s wing is set up, I had a horrifying moment picturing you climbing out a window and falling to your death. I couldn’t live with myself if…”
“And how was I supposed to know that? You left me hanging up naked with my wrists in pain.”
“But I didn’t leave you. I would never… I figured you knew…” He cuts himself off and rubs his jaw deep in thought.
“No. I didn’t know you were standing right outside the room. In my head, I was picturing you leaving me there all night.”
He winces. “I’m sorry that scared you.”
“I wasn’t scared.” The defensive lie slips out of me naturally. I don’t know why I have so much trouble admitting weakness.
He hides a smile as he rubs his mouth.
That should anger me, but I find myself hiding my own smile.
“Sofia? All I know is our current arrangement isn’t working, and I am emotionally incapable of seeing you in pain. Even these raw wrists are bothering me as we sit here. The only way for this to work is to put you somewhere else, away from me and under someone else’s care.”
My heart sinks. He’s not serious, is he? I can’t hide the disappointment and worry on my face as I chew on my bottom lip. I can sense him analyzing me, and I wish I could remain stoic—like what he’s saying didn’t rip my heart out and crush it on the ground.
“Or… you… I could treat you like…” He sighs, exasperated. “You could simply be my wife.”
I bite my bottom lip to stop my face from glowing.
I can’t let him see how much this affects me.
My mind races with so many things—he really does have feelings for me.
I won’t have to be locked away so much. He’s making it clear that I don’t have to be afraid of him.
Maybe the conflict between his family and mine will smooth over.
He clears his throat. “It’s your choice, Sofia.”
“I’ll do it.” I look up as he raises his eyebrows.
“Which option?” His voice is barely a whisper.
“I’ll be your wife.”
“Okay.” He looks around the room as if the room is going to collapse around us.
And I know why. Everything has shifted with us, and all I can ask is… “Now what?”
He lets out a nervous laugh, but there’s a boyish giddiness to it. “I don’t know.” He stands up, extending his hand out to me. I take it and let him help me to my feet, my legs still wobbly. He gently pushes me back against the wall, caging me there as he brushes my hair out of my face.
I reach towards the back of his head, pulling him down to me so that his lips find mine.
And the feeling when he kissed me earlier was nothing compared to how it feels now.
I collapse into his arms and let him support me as my heart pounds in my chest, feeling light-headed from excitement as his tongue explores my mouth.
He pulls away and then brings me to his chest, enveloping me in a hug.
“Do you have to work more today?”
His thumb rubs up and down my back. “I should, but I won’t.”
I give him a warm smile, which he returns. We gather up my things so that I can cover myself up enough to walk up to our room.
He has his arm wrapped around me as we leave the gym and walk through the dark hallway in this part of the wing, his shoes clicking against the tile. I think about what that felt like—how I melted at his touch, which leads me to realizing that he finished inside of me.
I nearly stop dead in my tracks.
I’m not on birth control.
My plan was to have a conversation with him about it—I assumed we’d be starting a family quickly—but then our marriage became a hostage situation.
I should have brought this up after the first time we had sex, but things were too crazy with him killing Marco afterwards that I didn’t even think of it.
I flash him a nervous smile and wonder if I should say anything. But it’s too much right now. And besides, what are the odds that I get pregnant the first time?