Chapter Twenty-Five Ella
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ella
Amoment later, the door opens and Gualtiero strides in.
His gaze finds me instantly.
In three long steps, he’s at the desk, palms braced on the surface as he leans in.
I push to my feet, refusing to let him tower over me. Thank God for the desk between us.
“What did you do to the blond guy?” I ask, searching his face.
His jaw flexes. “I taught him a lesson.”
My face pales.
“Did you kill him?” I whisper.
He doesn’t answer immediately.
“No,” Gualtiero says eventually. “He’ll live to face another day.”
Relief flickers and dies just as quickly.
“Though I’m certain he’ll never touch another man’s woman again.”
“He didn’t do anything,” I say. “We only talked.”
His eyes lift to mine, unblinking.
“You really don’t understand how much trouble you’re in, do you, princess?”
“Why? Because I spoke to a man?” My voice hardens. “I’ve done nothing wrong. You’re acting like a complete madman over nothing.”
He exhales slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. For a second, it looks like he’s trying to pull himself back.
“I am mad,” he says, quieter now. More dangerous. “I leave you alone for a few minutes and find you with another man.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I snap. “With the security you have on me, how exactly do you think I’d pick someone up?”
He says nothing, just watches me.
“You left me there,” I grind out. “I’m not even allowed on the dance floor. I can’t move without someone watching me. And you’re seriously standing here acting like I did something wrong because someone spoke to me?”
I hold his gaze.
“He came to me. Not the other way around.”
His stare doesn’t waver.
“You let him touch you.”
The words are quiet. Flat.
I blink a few times. Is he for real?
“He touched my elbow. That’s hardly a crime.”
Gualtiero goes very still. The space between us vibrates with a quiet, lethal tension. It prickles along my skin.
“It’s not about the elbow.”
“Then what is it about?”
His control slips a fraction.
“It’s about another man thinking he could put his hands on you,” he says, his voice lower now. Rougher. “And you allowing it.”
I let out a disbelieving breath. “Oh my God.”
But he isn’t finished yet. “Nobody, and I mean nobody, touches what is mine, Ella. The sooner you get that into your head, the better.”
He looks scarily earnest. Something in me cracks.
“I am not yours, Gualtiero. We’ve been over this. Repeatedly.”
How can one man be so possessive?
“We have,” he says. “And your denial changes nothing.”
His gaze doesn’t leave mine.
“If I see you entertaining another man again, there will be consequences.”
I fold my arms. “Are you serious?”
“And if anyone touches you,” he continues, slower now, deliberate, “I won’t be as restrained as I am tonight.”
His gaze holds mine.
“You won’t be able to sit down for a week.”
That lands. Is he threatening to spank me like a child?
“Wow,” I say sweetly. “And what about women? Are they approved? Or are you planning to take over all my personal care as well? Waxing? Massaging? I would have thought you’d have more important things to do.”
I smile at him with narrowed eyes. He closes his briefly, like he’s counting.
“God,” he mutters, more to himself than me, “are you trying to drive me crazy?”
“You’re doing a fine job of that yourself.”
I step around the desk. His hand shoots out, catching my arm.
“No one touches you without my say,” he says quietly. “Does that make it clear for you?”
His grip tightens.
“And I don’t want other men near you,” he adds, his tone rougher now. “Not looking at you. Not speaking to you.”
His fingers flex against me.
“I can’t stand it.” Something sharp and possessive flashes in his eyes. It’s gone just as fast.
I yank my arm free and turn toward the door. “You’re insane.”
My back hits the wall. Hard.
The breath leaves me in a rush as Gualtiero’s hand closes around my throat.
It’s not crushing. But too tight.
Too sudden.
My heart slams against my ribs. He must feel it in my wild, frantic pulse.
My hands fly up, gripping his wrist, trying to pull him off. I try to drag in air, but panic locks my chest.
For a second, he doesn’t move. His chest rises sharply.
His gaze locks on my face. My terror finally registers. Something shifts, and his grip eases.
“Careful, princess,” he says, his voice uneven now. “I’m running out of patience tonight.”
My pulse is roaring in my ears.
“I mean it.”
His thumb presses briefly against my throat before he lets go.
I suck in a sharp breath, my body trembling despite myself.
He steps back immediately, runs a hand through his hair, turning away like he needs distance.
He doesn’t look at me as he opens the door and gestures for me to step outside.
“Stay up here on this level,” he orders. “I’ll be another half hour.”
I walk past him, somewhat numb, still shaking like a leaf.
“Don’t push me again tonight, Ella,” he says, his tone cold.
Then he’s gone.
Right away, Alonso and Oriana fall in behind me.
My legs are unsteady as I head for the bathroom. The floor tilts beneath me, black spots flickering at the edges of my vision. Nausea surges up fast and violent.
I’m going to be sick. Or pass out.
Before I reach the door, Oriana steps ahead and signals for me to wait.
God. Not that again.
I sag against the wall, pressing my palm flat against it, trying to steady myself. My breathing comes too fast, too shallow. My fingers tingle.
I can’t get enough air.
Alonso steps in quickly, his expression shifting the moment he looks at me. Unperturbed by what happened to Blondie, he takes my arm and guides me to a seating area, easing me down.
“Bend forward. Head between your knees. It’ll help.”
There’s no edge to his voice. Just calm.
“Focus on breathing in… out. In… out.”
Slowly, the dizziness fades. The nausea loosens its grip.
When I sit back up, he hands me a bottle of water. I take it with shaky hands and drink.
Tears burn behind my eyes.
I can still see Gualtiero. That look. So cold. Unreadable.
It’s burned into me.
Where is the man from the island? The one who looked at me like I was his treasure.
He’s gone. In his place is someone completely different.
Someone I don’t recognize.
My chest tightens painfully.
How did I ever fall for him?
My hand comes up to cover my mouth, holding in the sob that threatens to break free.
No, I won’t. Not here.
I drag in a steady breath and push myself up.
Alonso stands with me, holding out his hand in case I stumble.
“I’m fine,” I say.
I’m not.
Heading for the bathroom, Oriana nods and follows me in, taking her place by the door.
Of course, I have no privacy.
Her eyes stay on me as I splash cold water onto my face, gripping the sink until the last of the dizziness passes.
Then I straighten and walk out without a word, back to the bar.
“I’ll have a chocolatini,” I tell the bartender. “Make it extra strong.”
If anything can numb this… it’s alcohol.
This time, no one comes near me. I don’t blame them. They all saw what happened.
The drive back to Gualtiero’s mansion passes in uneasy silence.
Actually, not silence. Gualtiero’s voice cuts through the car as he fires off orders on the phone.
It suits me fine. The last thing I want is for him to talk to me.
In fact, I want to be as far away from him as possible.
I stare out the window. The city lights blur past, and I focus on them instead.
Anything but him.
The moment the car stops in front of his house, I open the door and get out, heading straight to my room.
I strip out of the dress and step under the shower, turning the water as hot as it will go.
Still, I feel cold.
Slowly, I sink to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them as the water pours over me.
I’m exhausted. Physically. Emotionally.
Everything aches.
When I step out, the room is empty. Relief washes through me.
He’s not here.
For a moment, I just stand there, listening to the silence.
I wish I could lock the door.
The thought lingers as I get into bed, pulling the covers up, curling onto my side.
I close my eyes, willing this day to end.
I’ve had enough.
This can’t go on.
I need to find a way out of this.