Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Whatever. “Are you always looking for a way to dominate me?”
“No. I don’t need to look for ways.”
I manage to keep that mutter under wraps.
“As a Regazza woman, you ought to be used to being tapped. Why do you act like it’s an invasion of your privacy? You’ve had no privacy since you were little.”
He’s genuinely confused, and I have to remind myself that I’m Elise Regazza, daughter to the Don. It’s true, I know it. Elise hasn’t had any privacy her whole life. Piero practically watches her pee.
“I just thought it might be different when I was actually, you know, married. I’m expected to have children with you, and I’m still being treated like a child.” I look out the window as if affronted. But I’m not offended. I’m terrified. I squeeze my hands together, to hide the trembling.
I really should accept a bit more, at least ostensibly. Would Elise push back like this? No…she’d probably know better than to do that. I bite my lip. I have to find that one little, tiny, submissive bone in my body, wherever the hell it is.
The tension in the car is palpable, like muddied water and thick marsh. I feel as if I’m swimming for my life but only getting sucked down deeper into the murky pool.
We may have shared some tender moments together, but I can't let myself be fooled. If he ever finds out I'm not who he thinks I am, he'll kill me. Any of them would. It's the highest form of betrayal.
I’m not under any delusion that I’m safe with him. Not now, not ever.
He shakes his head, intent on driving through the congested streets of Boston before he takes a left down a private entrance to a parking lot right near the North End.
“You thought it’d be different than when you were a child,” he repeats, as if mulling this over. Shaking his head, he sighs. “You seem to have forgotten last night…and this morning. Ain’t nothing fucking childish about that.”
My body tingles at the memory of him taking me, his thick cock marking me as his, his mouth between my legs, as I reached for his hair…
“Well…not that. I just mean the privacy. I don’t get any now?”
“Absolutely not. I don’t know what your father’s restrictions were, but if he did his duty as the head of his family, he kept you safe, he kept you protected, and he kept you under his watchful eye.”
I think back to waking up on Christmas Day with my father passed out on the couch, a used syringe on the floor. Christmas lights twinkled from the windows in the apartments across from us, and someone played music far in the distance. I put a blanket over him and poured myself a bowl of cereal.
I don’t respond.
“Over time, we’ll get to know each other. I’ll find out more about you and you’ll find out more about me. But for now, what’s most important is that you know what I expect. You took those vows and signed away any promise of privacy. You’ll be with me or a team of bodyguards at all times. Your Internet use and phone use will be monitored, completely, by me and my men. I’ll give you anything you need.”
I look out the window and don’t respond. My hands shake harder, and I swallow the lump in my throat. I’ll never get away. What a fool I am for thinking I could.
“We’re here. And listen, I know you’re new.” It’s a patronizing tone, so I’m not sure why I soften a little. He reaches for my hand and laces his fingers through mine. “I won’t expect perfection from you. I’ll ease you into this. I saw when my sister was brought into a new family after leaving ours, and I know there are growing pains.” Again, the slight gentleness that lies below the rough, almost mean exterior gives me pause. I don’t trust it. Did he take an edge off when he fucked me?
Or maybe it was the spanking.
Which is the real Orlando? The one who whipped me with his belt and promised more if I disobey him? Or the one who put a blanket over my shoulders and nearly tucked me into bed last night?
Both of them scare me. Both of them intrigue me.
And both of them hold me hostage.
“Growing pains,” I say with a mirthless laugh. “Like spanking…”
The car glides to a stop as he parks it. His eyes darken. “Among other things.”
Uniformed men wait outside the door. I wonder where they materialized from. I gasp when Orlando reaches for my neck, yanks me over to him, and kisses me. His tongue plunders my mouth, and he palms my breast. I’m shocked but my pulse races immediately as heat floods my core. Jesus, this guy knows how to manhandle me.