Chapter 14 No choice
Isabella POV
Dante fucked me and disappeared, he was gone all day, so I showered and then put on a new pair of clothes that were set out on my bed.
The clothes were a little baggy again, but I didn’t complain. I wouldn’t be here much longer. I hadn’t had time to think about what was going on between Dante and I. I
bartered for my freedom by fucking him, and he vowed to make me come.
I did everything I could to prove him wrong. I didn’t want that man to be right. I didn’t want to be the victim of a kidnapping and then enjoy my tormentor. I didn’t think it was possible to get wet for a man who held a knife to my throat but I wasn’t wet, I was soaked.
It was humiliating and I despised his arrogance. He moved between my legs that morning and helped himself like I was a toy rather than a person. He got right to the point and fucked me harder than he did the night before and to make it worse, I came again.
Goddammit. I tried to make myself feel better by convincing myself I was subjected to my
anatomy. If you rubbed anything the right way, magic would happen. But there was no denying I’d never come that hard in my life. I’d never had a bigger man inside me, a man who could stretch me to maximum capacity. Not
only did he have the right tools, but he knew how to use them. I’d dated nice guys, even hot guys. There was chemistry and excitement.
There was good sex at my apartment but nothing compared to that. Why did the best sex of my life have to happen with my mortal enemy?
With the man my family had a never-ending blood war with?
Why didn’t I just take a different route home?
I’d only been there for a few days, so I hadn’t explored the house. We were in a mansion on the hillside of a snowy mountain. All the windows showed the breathtaking view of the snow. I couldn’t see the lake from up here because we were too high up.
I didn’t see an escape route. Even if I could steal one of the cars from the garage, driving in the terrain would be tricky. I hardly drove in the snow, and since I had to drive slowly, I probably wouldn’t make it far before he caught
up with me.
Michael appeared around the corner, a casual butler that was nothing like Gabriel, the man who had been serving my family since my father was young.
“isabella, Dante wants you to join him for dinner.” “Address me as Ms. Conti.” I wasn’t getting any respect around here, and now I needed to demand it.
Micheal expression didn’t change at my request. “Alright. Dinner is served. Will you be joining him?”
“Do I have a choice?
He shrugged. “You could say no, and I’ll report that to him. And then he’ll tell me to come get you again. If you refuse then, he’ll get angry and come after you himself…so you have a choice. But no matter what your choice is,
you’ll end up in the same place. But perhaps it’ll make you feel better because you’ll feel like you had a say in the matter…even though you never really did.”
The thought was depressing. As long as I was in this house, I was subjected to the desires of this psychopath. I didn’t have any rights, and my attitude seemed to turn him on even more.
Because he was a freak.
“So…” Michael brought his hands together at his waist. “How do you want to do this?”
I was hungry, so putting up a fight right now didn’t sound that appealing..“What’s for dinner?”
“dante favorite. Steak, mashed potatoes, and greens.”
Damn, that sounded pretty good. “Dessert?”
A small smile crept into his lips. “Blueberry pie and ice cream.”
I didn’t have to think it over long. “Alright. I’ll eat with him.” When I lived with my parents, I had the best chef in the world provide all my meals. I always ate like a queen, having culinary feasts I never really appreciated.
Now that I lived alone, I ate a lot of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and.chips. I never learned to cook, and it seemed pointless when my skills would never compare to the culinary genius that Gabriel possessed. I would just hire a chef myself, but I was too broke for that.
I walked into the dining room where the grand table sat. A large window took up the entire wall, and it showed a view of the mountain side. Snow was falling, hitting the piles of fresh powder softly.
Dante sat there, a short glass of scotch in front of him. The bottle beside him was half empty, telling me he already had a few glasses before I arrived. His eyes shifted to me immediately, and he stared at me with the same intensity he always wore. Like he might kill me. I sat across from him.
“Wine?” Michael opened a bottle of red. On the label was a brand I recognized. Conti Vineyards. “Thanks for trying to make me feel at home,” I said sarcastically. “And yes, I’ll take a full glass.”
Michael poured it before setting the bottle on the table. “I’ll grab the dishes.” He walked into the kitchen, leaving us alone together.
Whether Michael was there or not, Dante stared at me the exact same way. He stared like there was nothing he wanted more than to strangle me and fuck me. His broad shoulder blocked the chair behind him completely, and his tattoos peeked from underneath his shirt to his neck. His fingers were wrapped around his glass, and he brought it to his mouth to take a drink.
I expected him to make a smartass comment or two, but it never happened. He continued to stare, like I was a TV screen or a piece of artwork that he could watch for hours. Direct eye contact didn’t make him the least bit
uncomfortable.
It didn’t make me uncomfortable either. He failed to intimidate me, so I held his gaze and enjoyed my wine. If you stripped away the crime and the blood war, he was so beautiful that he was hard to look at. It was a shame he chose this life. So much failed potential.
“What are you thinking?” He set his glass down, and his hand continued to rest on the hardwood table. His forearms were chiseled just like the rest of his body, the sections of muscle identified by grooves. His veins streaked across, bulging in comparison.
What are you thinking?” I countered.
“You really want to know what goes on in this sick fucking mind?” The corner of his mouth rose in a smile, amused like always.
“I’ve already experienced the worst of it.”
He took another drink. “Or the best.”
I refused to react, keeping the same stoic features.