CHAPTER FOURTEEN Storm
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Storm
The anklet burned against my skin.
Not in a literal sense, but in a way that made my skin crawl with disgust, like it was searing my existence into this place, this goddamn prison disguised as luxury.
I sat on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, knees pulled to my chest, arms wrapped around them like they could somehow hold me together. My throat was raw, my breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps, and I hated myself for the tears. For how fucking weak I was.
It couldn’t be happening.
Yet the cold bite of metal around my ankle told me otherwise. It was there, constantly mocking me that he owned me.
I pressed my hands to my face, trying to steady the hurricane in my chest. My mind was a mess, tangled with too many thoughts, too many questions that seemed to be piling up with each encounter with him.
How did he know about my family?
Who even was he?
Did I even know his name?
A cruel, hollow laugh bubbled in my throat. No. I didn’t. A man had stepped out of nowhere, killed my fiancé, and now I was here, trapped, blackmailed, with nothing but my body as collateral.
It was humiliating.
But the worst part? I knew there was nothing I could do.
Because he had threatened me. Not just with answers but with my father, with Grace.
I clenched my jaw, gripping my hair in my hands. Fuck.
I hated him. I hated him more than I intended to. And yet… If anything happened to my father, if anything happened to Grace…
I squeezed my eyes shut. Aunt Brenda would take care of my father. She wouldn’t let anything happen. But how long before she’d realise I was gone? How long before she’d notice I had disappeared without a trace? And Adrian…
My stomach lurched as red danced in front of my eyes. His soulless eyes. Had anyone found him yet? Did they know? Or was his body still in that apartment, cold and alone, the way I had left him?
A sob ripped through me.
Adrian.
God, Adrian.
I clutched my chest, gasping as grief twisted violently inside me. I missed him. I missed him so much it made me sick. I could still feel his touch, still hear the way he said my name, still remember the warmth of his laugh.
And now he was gone.
Taken away from me like my mother.
Just like that.
I choked on breath, my fingers trembling as I dragged them over my face. My mother. He had spoken about her like he knew her, like he had some secret truth locked away, waiting for me to beg for it.
A part of me wanted to believe it was a lie, that he was just another powerful bastard who liked to play with his victim first.
But…
Something about him told me he was beyond that.
I shuddered at the memory of how I had almost run from his office. And the shameless part, he wasn’t even ashamed.
I was six when she had called me Stina, with that soft voice of hers, and warm hands cradling my cheeks. And the next year, she was gone. Like everyone else I had ever loved.
My chest ached and my breathing hitched. I couldn’t do this.
I didn’t want to sleep with him.
But if I refused? I’d never know the truth.
A bitter laugh bubbled in my chest as my head thudded back against the wall.
What was my body even worth anymore?
At least, if I obeyed, it would be my choice. At least, if I let him take me, it wouldn’t be by force.
Would it?
Or was I just convincing myself this was control when it was nothing but another form of surrender?
Tears slid down my cheeks. I wanted to believe there was another way, but deep down, I already knew my choice.
I had no choice.
If I wanted the truth, if I wanted to protect the only people I had left, I would have to give him everything.
Even if it shattered me.
A sudden, sharp knock on the door startled me, snapping me out of daze.
I sucked in a breath as I froze on the cold floor. My head was pounding as another knock came, and I panicked.
Was it him? No. If it were him, he wouldn’t knock twice.
“Mrs. Vitale?” Elena’s familiar voice echoed, and I sucked in a sharp breath. “It’s time for dinner. Mr. Vitale is waiting.”
My stomach twisted.
I wet my lips, staring at the locked door like I could keep reality out for just a little longer. I had lost track of time, lost myself in my grief, my panic, my anger. Now, reality was here to collect me.
I swallowed hard. “What time is it?”
A pause. “It’s past eight.”
Shit. I pushed myself up too fast; my legs trembled beneath me. Had I really been here for hours? How did I let time slip away like that?
Before I could think or speak, the door handle rattled. “I’m coming in.”
I barely had time to back away before the door opened, and Elena stepped in. Her black hair was pinned into a sleek bun as her sharp eyes assessed me.
She was holding something draped over her arm. A dress.
“Put this on,” she said, stepping inside.
I didn’t take it. My body refused to move.
She sighed, unimpressed. “You don’t want to keep him waiting.”
A fresh wave of nausea crashed over me.
“I…” My voice cracked.
She looked me up and down and handed the dress to me.
It was… breathtaking. Deep crimson, the kind that belonged to candlelit sins and whispered confessions.
It had a plunging neckline that would expose more of my chest than I was comfortable with, the delicate straps thin enough to snap under pressure.
The silk clung in all the right places, dipping low in the back, the hem flowing in a way that made it both elegant and dangerously seductive.
Yet, I felt sick.
My grip on the fabric tightened. “Why… why is he doing this?”
Elena tilted her head. ‘Because that’s what he wants.”
My stomach clenched.
“You…” My breath hitched. “You know what he’s doing, don’t you? You know he’s forcing me into this.”
Something flickered in her eyes. “Yes.”
I stared at her. “And you’re okay with that?”
Elena exhaled through her nose. “Okay with it?” She let out a humourless laugh. “Tell me when this world started caring about your consent?”
I flinched.
“Do you think power cares?” She was right. “Do you think men like him lose sleep over morality? Over right and wrong?”
I was speechless. “That’s not-”
She cut me off. “You’re looking for justice in a place where justice does not exist.”
The words hit like a slap.
“You think you have a choice? No, Celestine. He is your choice. You can fight it. You can scream and cry and resist all you want, but in the end, you will still be his because that’s what happens when men like him decide to claim something. And you? You were claimed earlier than you realised.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
She took a step back. “So go ahead. Do what you want.”
Silence stretched between us. Something cracked inside me. Not just fear. Not even helplessness. But something deeper. Something that had been breaking since the moment I stepped into this world.
Because I knew, in the end, she was right.
And that was the worst part.