CHAPTER FIVE Fear and Flesh
CHAPTER FIVE
Fear and Flesh
The moment his hands left me, I collapsed into the chair like a rag doll, my limbs trembling and my breathing uneven. He stood tall and unbothered beside me.
How do you name a reality that feels wrong in its existence?
I heard him exhaling sharply. I dared to sneak a glance at him as his jaw tightened and his gaze burned into me. The faint scar slashing across his cheek twitched when his lips curled into a sneer. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as he bent down, his hand gripping the armrest of my chair.
A single sob escaped me.
“Get up,” he whispered through clenched teeth. When I didn’t move fast enough, he grabbed my wrist in a bruising grip and yanked me to my feet like I weighed nothing. My legs buckled, but he forced me upright.
“I don’t repeat myself, Dolcezza,” he growled, shaking me as if I were just a toy. “You don’t want to test my patience. Trust me on that.”
My lips parted, but no sound came out—not an apology, not a protest, not even a plea.
His eyes dropped to my mouth, lingering there for a moment. He slowly lifted his hand to my face and brushed his thumb over my trembling bottom lip making panic course through me, my body tensing.
“Stop shaking.” His brows narrowed as if he couldn’t understand my reaction to him. “What are you so afraid of?”
I wanted to disappear, and never face the smirk tugging at his scarred mouth. My knees threatened to give out again, but his body forced me to stay up.
I felt like glass under his touch.
Breathe. Just breathe.
His hand on my arm was fire and ice. Burning. Freezing. Both. Neither.
I stared at the floor, desperate for it to swallow me whole. Vanish. Disappear. Cease to exist.
“Look at me,” he grumbled.
I couldn’t.
“I won’t ask again,” he repeated. Deadly this time.
Tears wouldn’t stop falling. I was pathetic. Weak. A rag doll in his hands.
If only I could numb myself.
I flinched, feeling his fingers brushing my jaw, and forced my face up. “There it is,” he murmured, his piercing grey eyes locking onto mine.
It wasn’t just terror. It was misery. And he saw it. Drank it in.
I was drowning in the depths of his stare, and he knew he was crushing my soul.
Just as I thought I couldn’t take any more, the sound of approaching footsteps cut through the suffocating silence. Before I could see, I heard him. “Mr. Vitale?”
I nearly sobbed in relief. Someone else was here. Someone who might stop him, save me from whatever nightmare he was about to drag me deeper into.
But he didn’t look away. Instead, he just tightened his hold on my jaw, making me wince. My breathing hitched, and I cursed the involuntary shiver that wracked my body.
The man stepped into the room, and from the corner of my eyes, I saw his polished shoes. He was tall, dressed in a crisp black suit that fit him like a second skin, adjusting his glasses, not even sparing me a glance.
The nightmare towering over me looked at me one last time before forcing me into the chair. I thought he’d go back to his chair, but he just stood behind me. I could’t help fidgeting with my fingers, hyper-aware of his eyes on me.
The monster behind me put his hand on my shoulder, making my hands freeze.
Somehow, I knew I would be killed before I could speak a word.
It almost felt like he was warning me to stay quiet or he’d remind me of my place again.
I clamped my mouth shut, and swallowed down every word that was on my tongue.
My head lowered instinctively, my shoulders curling in as I tried to make myself smaller.
The other man placed a sleek black bag on the table after clearing his throat. The sound of the zipper tore through me. From inside, he pulled out a thin black file, setting it on the surface with an almost reverent care.
“The papers are ready.”
“Explain them to her.” His hand on my shoulder stayed there, pinning me down.
The man nodded and flipped open the file as he began to speak.
“This document outlines the terms of a legally binding agreement between Party A and Party B. Party A, as outlined here”—he gestured vaguely behind me—”will assume full legal authority and control over Party B, who agrees to comply with the conditions set forth herein without contest.”
My frown deepened. What the hell did that even mean?
“The contract includes stipulations regarding personal conduct, residency, and obligations of loyalty.” The man’s tone was clinical, almost bored, as he continued.
“Party B”—he glanced at me briefly—”will forfeit any previous claims to property, finances, or legal autonomy. In return, Party A guarantees…”
I barely heard the rest. My pulse roared in my ears as I struggled to understand what I was hearing.
“What… what is this?”
The man didn’t answer. He simply looked behind me, and only then added, “It’s a marriage contract.”
The floor dropped out from beneath me. My breath hitched, my chest tightening until I thought I might suffocate.
I felt him leaning down till his face was close enough that I could feel the heat of his breath against my skin.
“You’re going to marry me, Dolcezza. Whether you like it or not.”