CHAPTER SIX Disobedience
CHAPTER SIX
Disobedience
I felt like a caged bird, and he held the key—but instead of setting me free, he seemed to tighten the bars around me.
Marry him? Marry him?
I blinked at him, waiting for a cruel smirk or hint that he was joking. But his face was as unmoving as stone. No mirth. No mockery. Just that maddening certainty, the kind of confidence that made my stomach churn and pulse race.
He was serious.
“Dolcezza.” The word rolled off his tongue like smoke, sweet and suffocating, curling around my ribs and squeezing until I couldn’t breathe. Sweetheart. He said it like I was something fragile, but nothing was fragile or pure about the storm bubbling inside me.
The audacity. The arrogance. The absolute nerve.
As if… it was the most natural thing in the world. As though my life was his to rewrite, my choices his to command. He didn’t ask. He declared.
“This can’t be…” I swayed in the seat, my hands shook, and my eyes tried to adjust. This had to be some kind of twisted joke because no way… he was asking me to marry him.
“You’re wasting my time, Dolcezza,” he murmured, and I felt his voice striking me across the face.
My throat burned with words I couldn’t force out. Marry the bastard of a man who killed a man, kidnapped me, ruined my life, and now wants me bound to him for some unknown reason?
I hated him. For making me feel this way.
Furious and lost all at once. And yet, something about him made my knees weak.
No amount of protest could change my fate.
My fate. My goddamn fate. My freedom had been stripped from me before I even realized it, and now this man was here to seal my fate with his name on a contract I didn’t understand.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered, ready to bolt. But where could I go?
The man sitting in front of me again adjusted his glasses, understanding the tension and feeling uncomfortable. I was also aware of the woman standing in the corner of the room. But none of them terrified me more than the man standing behind me.
He didn’t do anything, but I felt it, the way his hand curled around my shoulder. “This isn’t a negotiation. You’ll do as I say.”
Tears pricked my eyes, blurring the ink on the page in front of me. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. “You’re… you’re taking everything from me.”
He chuckled. “Everything? No, Dolcezza. I’m giving you something. A purpose. A place. Protection.”
“Protection?” I spat and whipped around to face him, ignoring the ugly anger on his face. “You’re not protecting me. You’re imprisoning me, you bastard!”
A part of me wanted to take a step back, to put distance between us, but I stood my ground. I refused to let him see me falter. I was panting now, too angry to care if he’d kill me. That was better than marrying him.
I glared at him. The stormy-greys narrowed, and a tint of anger flashed in his eyes. “Prisoners don’t get silk sheets and diamonds.”
The audacity made me sick, but the way he said it—so casually, like my life was just another transaction to him—froze me in place.
I turned back to the paper, my hands shaking violently. My vision tunnelled. “You can’t… You can’t make me do this…”
What was happening anymore, I couldn’t decipher.
“You have ten seconds,” he said softly, and it was worse than if he’d yelled.
I bit my lip, hard enough to taste blood. My mind raced, desperate to find a way out of this nightmare. What could I do? Run? Stab him with the pen? How far could I go? What would happen to me after that? Would I ever be able to leave? Everything agitated me.
Every second I wasted thinking was another second closer to the point of no return.
He trapped me in every sense of the word. And if I asked why, I knew he wouldn’t tell me. Tears burned my eyes. I felt so frustrated. Oh dear lord… show me some way. I couldn’t stay here and let him ruin me.
I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn’t feel him move. One moment I was standing, and the other, he placed his hand on my back and leaned. “Five.”
My lips trembled as I tried to make sense of it all.
“Please,” I choked out.
“Four.”
I turned to him, tears streaming down my face, hoping—praying—that he might show some shred of humanity.
“Three.”
His gaze bore into mine.
“Two.”
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t—
“One.”
The pen was in his hand before I could react. He grabbed my wrist and slammed it down on the table, forcing the pen into my trembling fingers. His grip was bruising.
“Sign it,” he snarled. “Or I’ll show you what it means to have no choices.”
I thought fear had a limit—until he found new ways to unravel me.
“You know,” he started, his tone turning deceptively calm, “I didn’t think it would take this much effort to get you to cooperate. But I suppose you like being difficult.”
I didn’t respond. My body was too drained to fight him verbally, but my silence didn’t deter him. Instead, it seemed to amuse him.
“You’re afraid,” he continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he leaned closer. “Afraid of me. Afraid of what I can do. And you should be.”
I swallowed hard, refusing to meet his eyes.
“You’ve already lost, Dolcezza. It’s time to stop pretending you have a choice.”
He moved behind me, his hands gripping the back of the chair. I felt his breath against my hair, making my stomach churn.
“Your father’s in the hospital, isn’t he?”
My heart stopped.
I turned to look at him, my eyes wide with shock. “What did you just say?”
He smirked. “A man his age, in his condition, shouldn’t be left alone for long. Would be a shame if… something happened to him.”
My mouth parted, and I stared dumbfounded at him. How… how did he even… know about this?
“Your friend… what’s her name? Her business isn’t doing so well, is it? Those loans are piling up, and the banks are starting to circle.”
I gasped this time, my knees nearly buckling, but his hand on my waist balanced me. “How… how do you know that?”
He chuckled. “You think I don’t know everything about you, Dolcezza?”
My chest heaved as panic clawed its way up my throat. “You’re lying. You don’t know anything about me.”
His eyes darkened, the amusement vanishing in an instant. “Don’t I?”
He took a step closer, and I instinctively stepped back, my spine hitting the edge of the table.
“Your mother used to braid your hair every morning before school,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “She’d hum that awful lullaby to keep you calm when you cried. What was it again? Oh, right. La Luna Triste.”
I froze, my blood turning cold.
“Stop it!” I screamed, shoving him with all the strength I had left. “How do you know these things? How?!”
He barely moved under my assault, his expression unchanging. “I told you. I know everything about you.”
“Why?!” I cried, my voice cracking. “Why are you doing this to me?!”
He grabbed my wrists, his grip like iron as he pulled me close. “Because I can,” he growled. “And because I want to.”
I struggled against him, thrashing and kicking, but it was useless. He was too strong, too damn dominating.
“You’re a monster,” I spat, my voice trembling with rage and fear.
His lips twisted into a cold smile. “Disobey me again, and I’ll make sure you see the monster I am.”
Before I could respond, he released one of my wrists and pulled out his phone. He dialled a number, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Make the arrangements,” he said into the phone. “Start with her friend. Bankrupt her.”
My eyes widened in horror. “No! Please, no!” I screamed, tears streaming down my face.
He hung up without another word, his gaze hard and unrelenting as he watched me crumble.
“How could you?” I sobbed, my voice breaking. “How could you do this?”
“Because you need to understand, Dolcezza,” he said coldly, his grip tightening. “There’s no part of your life I can’t control. No one I can’t touch. If you think you can fight me, think again.”