32

32

The door clicked shut behind him, and the and I'm left to wallow in the silence as I trudged to my supposed room where my bag was.

Like I have a choice.

I stood there for a full minute taking in the full surrounding of the space. The room was nicer than the one at the estate, who was i kidding. It was hundred percent nicer, and clean. Painted in soft grays and a bed that looked like a cloud.

I could sleep on it and not wake-up and I'd be happy. It was a prettier, bigger, and a vanity, though there was nothing on it besides a book, I'd trade a life for it.
I walked to the door and turned the handle to lock if but after series of futile twisting and turning and cussing i realized Moretti being the asshole he is must have decided my privacy and security isn't worth his peace of mind.

Like I was going to jump the window. As if that wouldn't snuff the life out of me at once.

I walked to the ends of the room where my bag was, knelt and pulled out my one change of clothes. Underneath the pants, my fingers brushed against the cool metal of the hairpin Lissa had taken and then, for some reason, must've have added into my bag to return. Maybe she thought l'd understood and have so much trust that I wouldn't use it.

I absolutely would.

I closed my hand around it and slipped it into the pocket of my clothes. I was so tired my bones ached, but the idea of lying down on that soft cloudy bed, of being vulnerable in this new place, with my door unlocked and a pervert in the one of the rooms made my skin crawl.

I couldn't sleep, and I start to pace around the room, hoping I'd get tired and fall asleep easily.

I'm trusting Moretti and his two ladies with my safety.

Five steps from the door to the window, thankfully it's also unlocked, so I pushed it open slightly because that's as far as it can go.

I really want to know what kind of thought goes through that man's head.

I could only fit my hand out. I don't plan to jumb down storeys of buildings to my death but come on, I'd appreciate a nice night view. But this is Moretti we're talking about, that man would do every single thing except what I like and want.

Do I give him anxiety, a sense of impending doom. I'd like to think that for once and tonight he's also pacing about his room, or turning in his bed, unable to sleep, worried that I might escape.

I peeked out the window, to a million lit-up windows where a million people were living their lives, shinning against the night and looking like something from a kids book.

I couldn't even hear the city from in here.

I ran my hands over the furniture when nothing else entertained me. Over the sleek and shiny dresser. The nightstand with no lamp, of course Moretti hates me that stupidly much. On it was a stupidly heavy vase instead, all swirls of blue and white porcelain.

I couldn't even pick and smash this if it was after my life.

A sound suddenly came from the hallway, a couple more and I freeze. I quickly held my breath and backed up against the wall next to the door.

I folded my lips, my hand hovering over my hairpin as the door handle twisted and turned, as slowly as I've ever seen, and it went on until it finally clicked and door slowly slid open.
Marcus frame filled the door. He'd changed into a tight black t-shirt, his muscles bulging from it, that same nasty smirk was plastered on his face and he didn't look surprised to see me standing there, pressed against the wall like a cornered animal.

I shut my eyes for a second and took a deep breath to calm my scared and racing heart, but it wouldn't.

“What are you doing here?”

"Couldn't sleep, sweetheart?" he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "Thought you might want some company.

“Get out!” I half yelled.

He chuckled, taking a slow step forward. "Or what? You gonna cry? Scream?" He gestured around the soundproofed room. "No one's coming baby. The Don's busy, Lissa's gone for the night, Cassandra is fucking some guy in the Don's study. It's just you and me." He reached out to touch my face, the same way he had before. This time, I didn't just slap his hand away, I shoved him hard in the chest and it was like shoving a brick wall. He did move back but didn't even stumble.

The smirk vanished as his breath quickened. "You little bitch." He lunged for me, moved faster than I could think — one second I was backing up, the next his arms were around me, dragging me off my feet. The smell of his cologne hit me first, burning my throat as I tried to catch my breath. I kicked out hitting something solid, maybe his leg, I don’t know, but he grunted, and his hold only got tighter, like he wanted to crush the breath out of me.

"Feisty' he growled into my ear, his
breath hot and wet. "I like it."

He threw me onto the bed and the breath whooshed out of me. Before I could Scramble back, he was on top of me with his weight pinning me down. One hand clamped over my mouth to stop my screams and the other started pulling at the hem of my dress. Panic shot through my veins like never before, and the only time i ever felt this way was when Dante forced himself on me.

This was really happening, it was really happening, Oh God.

Not again, please, not again. Not like this.