Chapter 16 Chapter 16
Chapter 16 Chapter 16
Elara’s POV.
Dante didn't just lock the doors; he had the windows reinforced with security cameras and the balcony access bolted from the outside. I was trapped in a three-room loop: the bedroom, the bathroom, and the small sitting area.
I sat on the edge of the bed as the door clicked open.
It was 8:00 AM.
Dante walked in, followed by Dr. Aris. Behind them, like a vulture waiting for a carcass, stood Isabella. She held a clipboard, her eyes scanning me with a look of clinical hunger.
"Time for the morning draw," Dante said.
"Is this going to be every day?" I asked, my voice flat.
"Every day until the conception is confirmed," Dante said. "And every day after that until the heir is born. I’m not leaving your health or your honesty to chance again."
Dr. Aris stepped forward, setting his kit on the vanity. He didn't say a word as he tied the tourniquet around my arm. I looked at Isabella, she was smiling.
“Witch.” I whispered to myself.
"I’m personally overseeing the lab intake, Elara," Isabella said, clicking her pen. "Dr. Aris will draw the blood, and I will walk it to the lab myself. It’s just us now."
I winced as the needle pierced my skin.
"Check the hormone levels and the toxicology screen," Dante ordered. "If there is even a trace of those pills in her system, I want to know immediately."
"Of course, Sir," Aris murmured.
They finished the draw and left as quickly as they had arrived.
I walked to the bathroom and closed the door. I leaned against the sink, my breath hitching. I reached behind the medicine cabinet panel, but I didn't pull out the pills.
I couldn't.
If I took even one more, the blood tests would catch it within twenty-four hours.
Isabella was looking for a reason to have me disposed of, and Dante was looking for a reason to break me completely. My only protection now was the very thing I had spent weeks trying to avoid.
I had to get pregnant.
I took the small bottle of contraceptives and emptied the remaining pills into the toilet.
I walked back into the bedroom and looked at the calendar on my desk.
The sun went down, casting long, jagged shadows across the room. I sat in the dark until the door opened again.
"The lab report came back," he said. His voice was low."You're clean. No pills."
"I told you I’d stop," I whispered.
"You didn't have a choice," he reminded me. He reached out, his hand cupping my jaw, his thumb traced the line of my lip. "You understand the stakes now, don't you? Lorenzo isn't coming back and Marcus can't help you. You are mine, Elara. Your body, your mind, your womb. They all belong to the Moretti name."
"I understand, Dante."
He pulled me up from the chair. He wasn't gentle, but he wasn't violent either.
"Tonight," he said. "And every night until the test is positive. I want my son."
As he pushed me back onto the bed, I stared up at the dark ceiling.
He leaned in, whispering into my ears. “I want to protect you, Elara. We can be happy if you would just obey me.”
“I will, I promise. Please, just let me out of here, I don't want to be in this room anymore. Please,” I said, my voice shaky as tears began to roll from my eyes. “I'm sorry Dante, I'm sorry.” My sobbing increased followed by jagged breaths.
“Elara, I can't do that.”
“Why?” I replied, my voice barely a whisper.
“Because the world wants you, and I want to be the only man that can have you.” It was like I could feel his emotions through his words and for a split second, I understood how he felt.
The constant protection of a person who wouldn't just stay put. Having to tell every man in the room to stop gazing at your wife. It was exhausting, but it wasn't justifiable.
“I can't control how the world sees me.”
“But I can,” he cut me off. “I can control the times they even get to see you. I promise you, Elara. We'll be happy, one day.” He said as he got up and walked towards the door.
“I'll let you rest tonight. But, I'll see you tomorrow. Be prepared.”
–—
The routine remained unbroken. Blood draw at 8:00 AM, Isabella’s mocking smile at 8:05 AM, lockup until 8:00 PM and Dante’s arrival at 8:30 PM.
I was sitting in the sitting area, staring at the window, when Isabella entered alone.
"You look tired, Elara," she said, walking around the room and picking up a book from the table. "The 'work' of an heir-bearer is exhausting, isn't it?"
"What do you want, Isabella?"
"I wanted to check on the medical logs," she said, tapping her clipboard. "Dr. Aris says your estrogen levels are rising. You’re ovulating. A very productive window."
She stepped closer, "You all think you can out smart me, huh? Listen here, pest, even if you do conceive, I’m the one who tells him if the pregnancy is ‘good’ or not."
"You wouldn't dare lie to him about that," I said.
"Wouldn't I?" Isabella laughed. "If I tell him the fetus is deformed, or that your body is rejecting it because of the 'damage' from the warehouse, he’ll believe me. He’ll send you to that facility in Switzerland before you can even show. And then... well, then he’ll have no choice but to turn back to a Rossi."
"He’ll kill you if he finds out."
"He won't find out," she said, leaning in until her breath was on my ear.
I decided to turn on defence, “Have you ever wondered, why he doesn't want you to produce his heir?”
She stood at the doorway for a second before she turned and walked out.
The question was for both her and myself.
Really, why go through the stress of getting someone else with no background and nothing to give, to produce the heir for one of the most formidable families in New York?