Chapter 49 THIS LIFE.
\~~~RAINA.
“It is almost noon, Madam. You should come eat.”
The butler stepped fully into the room and stopped beside the bed where I lay curled beneath the covers.
“I am not hungry,” I muttered.
“It’s nearly twelve PM, ma’am.” She hesitated, then added quietly, “The boss is… getting angry.”
I let out a weak scoff and pulled the duvet over my head.
“Mrs. Moretti, you need to eat,” she insisted gently. “You didn’t have dinner last night.”
Of course I didn’t.
Someone had fucked my brain empty until sleep dragged me under, and this morning had been no different.
Trust me, I could barely lift my body.
My legs felt like logs of wood and my arms were worse.
Every inch of me ached, but the worst part was the dull, persistent throb between my thighs, the reminder my body refused to let go of.
God, I hated all of this.
My body… my stupid, traitorous body.
It didn’t give me a choice.
Didn’t ask for permission.
How dare you crave a man like him?
How dare you respond to him like this?
“A little will do, Madam,” the butler’s voice came up again, reminding me of her presence.
“God, leave me be. I am not hungry!” I groaned, adjusting.
There was silence for a while before I heard the footsteps retreating from the room.
I stayed under the duvet long after the butler left.
The door closed softly, but her words stayed behind with me.
The boss is getting angry.
Of course he was.
Luciano was always angry that I didn’t move the way he wanted, eat when he wanted, or exist when he wanted.
I squeezed my eyes shut and groaned quietly. My body still ached everywhere. Right in between my thighs, along my hips, even my shoulders. It felt like I had been pulled apart and put back together wrong.
And the worst part?
My body remembered everything.
I hated that.
Just then, right there, the door pushed open and before I could gather my thoughts, the duvet was pulled roughly from my body and I sucked in a curse.
Bastard.
“What are you doing, baby girl?” Came his voice.
I slowly sat up, hissing when the ache flared again and I watched as his eyes lifted, dark and sharp, dragging slowly over me like he was touching without touching and it made my stomach tighten.
“So you’re alive,” he said calmly.
I ignored the comment and looked away from him.
“Are you a baby? Rejecting food like that?”
“I said I am not hungry.”
His jaw tightened.
“You didn’t eat last night.”
I laughed softly, bitter. “And what does that have to do with you?”
Silence stretched between us for a while before he pointed his index finger at me, “You think starving yourself is rebellion?”
I looked up at him then. “You think forcing yourself on me is control?”
Something dangerous flickered in his eyes and it was not guilt. “What? Are you insinuating that I raped you now, wifey?”
“You did!” I hollered, my voice shaking.
“Oh?” He tilted his head in amusement, resting his weight on one leg.
“You forced me. You… you… You forced me! I didn’t want it!”
“You came apart under me,” he said quietly. “Don’t lie now, baby.”
My face burned.
“That doesn’t mean I wanted you,” I snapped. “It means my body betrayed me. No, you forced me.
He adjusted in his position and smacked his lips. “Have you been telling yourself that?”
He walked closer until he was standing beside me, one hand braced on the bed frame while the other rested on his waist
“Your body doesn’t lie, Talia,” he said slowly. “Only you do.”
I swallowed.
“I hate you,” I whispered.
His lips curved slightly into a menacing smile..
“And yet,” he murmured, leaning closer, “You nearly screamed the whole house down. You begged for my dick and screamed my name at every moment. You begged for me to fuck you, to go harder, and yes, I did. Tell me, how is that rape when I only did what a good husband should do?
I shoved him aside forcefully and stood up, my hands shaking. “Get out of my space.”
For a moment, I thought he would listen.
Then he straightened, the softness in his expression vanishing as if it had never existed.
Before I could even understand what was happening, Luciano crossed the space between us in one long stride. One second I was standing there, the next he had lifted me clean off the ground.
I gasped as he slung me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing, my protest dying in my throat as his grip tightened around unyieldingly.
“Let go of me!” I cried as he strode out of the room.
“You are going to eat, Solnishko,” he said calmly, as if we were discussing the weather. “I am not going to watch you die under my watch.”
“And why would you care if I die?” I shouted, pounding weakly against his back. “Put me down!”
His steps didn’t falter.
“Because,” he replied, his voice low and dangerous, “You are mine. And what belongs to me does not get destroyed. Not by you. Not by anyone.”
“Jesus Christ, I hate this life!” I cried out dramatically, but Luciano didn’t say another word.