Chapter 5 Lucia

5

I hated him.

Salvatore sat across from me with a huge grin on his face, chomping on a piece of sausage. I tore my bread into pieces and glared at him. He was gloating. Fucking gloating.

"I hate you."

I hated myself more. How could I have done what he said? How in hell had I enjoyed it? He'd made me come three times. Three times! I'd felt... Fuck, what had I felt for him? The man had made me come, that was all. Any feelings were physical. Sexual.

"You liked me just fine a little while ago." He bit into a piece of Nutella-smeared toast, a little of the chocolate paste sticking to the side of his mouth. He wiped it with his thumb then made a show of licking it off his finger.

Frustrated, I grabbed an apple out of the bowl of fruit and threw it at him. He caught it like a baseball and bit into it.

"Thanks."

I fisted my hands at my sides at this infuriating man. Rainey came by with a pot of coffee.

"More, ma'am?"

"No," I said, tacking on a "thank you," as I folded my napkin. I forced myself to take a deep breath. "I'm done."

She stepped away, nodding, and I made to rise.

"I'll have more, Rainey," Salvatore said.

I shoved my chair back, scraping the legs along the hardwood floor.

"Sit, Lucia," Salvatore said as Rainey poured. She avoided looking at either of us.

"I'm done." I set my napkin on my plate.

"I said sit."

His tone made me meet his gaze. He wiped his mouth and pushed his plate back, all joking gone from his expression. For a moment, we battled in silence, me standing, willing my legs to move, the limbs refusing. Him watching me, intently waiting to see what I'd do.

Rainey, who had left with the coffeepot, returned, saw us, and disappeared back into the kitchen. You could slice the tension in the dining room.

Salvatore raised an eyebrow and gestured for me to sit. I thought about my options. I was in his house, in a town I did not know, miles from the next house, without a vehicle.

I sat, folded my arms across my chest, and jutted my chin out.

"Your sister does that."

"What?"

He stuck his chin out to show me. "Stubborn. I guess it runs in the family."

I adjusted my position, sitting up straighter, lowering my stupid chin. He was observant, I had to give him that. He must have seen it at my father's funeral.

"She and I are very different people."

He raised an eyebrow but apparently decided not to pursue it. He shifted his position, pushing his chair back and folding one leg over the other. He took up a lot of space. Too much.

"Let's go over the rules of the house now that you're finally here."

I waited in silence. I'd hear him out first. Tell him to go fuck himself after.

That thought took me back to an hour earlier, to him standing over me, his big naked body, his thick cock in his hand pumping, pumping...

I shook my head, forcing the image away, and looked at the floor littered with the bread I'd torn up throughout breakfast. I'd made work for Rainey in my anger at Salvatore. I'd pick it up when we were done.

"First rule, you are not to leave the grounds without my permission, and you are never to go anywhere alone."

I snorted. "As if."

"As if what?"

He leaned forward, his expression questioning but also consequential, calling me on my bullshit because he and I both knew I couldn't leave without A) having a car, and B) knowing the code to open the gate.

"I won't be treated like a prisoner." I almost added in my own home, but this wasn't my home.

"It's not a prison, Lucia. I want you to be safe. I have enemies, like your father did. They may think getting to me is best accomplished through you. I don't want to see you get hurt."

He sounded almost genuine. He sure looked it. But then again, he'd seemed different earlier too, before he'd used my body's surrender against me.

"You're free to wander the grounds. There are several acres of woods, so take care you don't get lost. The house as well, only my study and my bedroom are off-limits. I'll show you around once we're done. If you need or want anything, all you have to do is ask. You'll have a monthly allowance-"

"I don't need your money." I had my own. My family was not poor, even after the Benedetti's destroyed us. I'd inherited everything but the house after my father died. Although without credit cards, with no way to access that money as long as I was locked away here, I was still at Salvatore's mercy.

"Well, you'll have it anyway."

"I don't want it," I muttered.

"What are you doing, Lucia? What exactly is going through your mind right now?"

"I'm trying to wrap my brain around my new prison. First, you send me away to the fucking nuns for five years-"

"It was part of the agreement-"

"I may as well have been behind bars, and you know it!"

He just shrugged a shoulder.

"Now I'm sitting here in your house, where I'm supposed to live as your-what? Plaything?-and I'm being told the rules like I'm a child!"

"Aren't you? Look at how you talk to me. I'm not an unreasonable man, Lucia, but I will be obeyed."

"Obeyed? You want me to bow down to you? You've got another thing coming."

"I think I have a pretty good idea of what I have coming."

"Are we done?"

"No."

I bit my lip, waiting.

"I have a cell phone arriving for you today-"

"I have my own."

His jaw tightened, and he took a minute before responding. "Well, you'll have a new one. When you want your family or a friend to visit, you'll let me know first."

"I don't need to see my family, and I don't have any friends, so I'm well and truly yours. I guess that makes you happy."

"It doesn't, actually."

Why did he have to seem so fucking genuine?

It was my turn to shrug a shoulder and, needing to break eye contact, I leaned down to pick up a few pieces of the bread I'd inadvertently scattered.

"Leave it. Rainey will clean it up."

I shook my head, feeling tears building, refusing to let him see.

"Leave it, Lucia. When I'm talking to you, I expect your undivided attention."

I snorted, wiping my face, angry again. I faced him. "You expect so many things. Maybe what you need to do is check those expectations. You're less likely to be disappointed then."

His eyes narrowed, and his chest heaved as he took a deep breath in.

"Am I irritating you, Salvatore? Because you know what's irritating me? Your...stuff...drying on my skin," I said through clenched teeth. I stood so fast, I knocked the chair over behind me. "You've told me your rules. Well, fine. I have just one of my own. Leave. Me. Alone!" I turned on my heel to march off.

"Sit back down," he hissed. "Now."

"Fuck.You. I'm going to take a shower."

I heard his chair scrape back, and I started to run for the stairs, all the while wondering what the hell I was doing. Where I was going. He had the key to the lock. It's not like I could hide. What was I doing?

Salvatore caught up with me. I didn't even really fight him when he took my arm and dragged me up the stairs with him.

"You want a shower? Fine," he said through clenched teeth. "I'll take you to have that fucking shower if my stuff is so irritating."

"Let me go."

He hauled me to my bedroom and into the bathroom. There he released me. I backed into a corner, his fury suddenly frightening.

"Get in the shower," he said, reaching for the collar of my blouse and tearing it down the middle.

I screamed, trying to push him back, knowing it was impossible.

"You wanted a shower."

"I'll do it," I said as he popped the buttons off my shorts and yanked the zipper down. "Please. Just-"

"In the shower!"

He shoved me into the shower, even though I still wore my bra and panties.

"Let me go. I'll do it, I promise." He stopped and brought his face within an inch from mine.

"You don't have to promise. I know you'll do it."

He switched on the water, and I recoiled from the cool spray that hit one side of my arm.

Tears burned my eyes, and I cursed the drops that fell.

"Take off your bra and panties," he said, pushing his hand through his hair as he stepped back.

"I will. Just go, okay. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you."

His breath was audible, his lips tight, the look on his face telling me he was trying hard to get himself under control.

"I have to pee. Let me pee." I tried, hoping that would convince him to leave. Using that moment to reason with him. "I'm sorry, okay?"

Some battle raged behind his eyes, and next thing I knew, he had me shoved against the shower wall, one hand wrapped around my throat. I grabbed his forearm, trying to pull him off. He reached over and switched off the water, drenching one side of his T-shirt in the process.

"Piss."

"Wh...what?"

With his wet hand, he pushed my panties down to midthigh. "Piss."

"Salvatore..."

"Fucking. Piss. You want me to leave you alone? I will. But first, you piss."

We stood staring at each other, his eyes dark with anger, mine, maybe the look of a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming Mack truck? I didn't know what to do, whether or not to try to reason with him. I didn't know him. That fact well and truly hit me for the first time, right here, right now. He was the son of a mafia boss next in line to succeed him. I'd seen he was armed at my father's funeral. This man knew violence, it was his world. What horrors had his eyes seen? What atrocities had his hands committed?

In this moment, he was truly and utterly terrifying.

I let my arms fall to my sides, no longer fighting against tears, and I did what he said. I pissed. He glanced down for a second, then returned his gaze to mine. As warmth trailed down my legs, he released his hold around my throat and stepped back, blinking as if coming out of a stupor, shaking his head. I slid down and sat on the shower floor, watching him as he looked at me, the rage all but dissipated now, as if evaporated into thin air, replaced by...remorse?

Salvatore walked out of the bathroom, and I heard the bedroom door close. I rose and started the shower, stripped off the rest of my clothes, and stood under the warm flow, weeping, a sense of loss so all encompassing, so whole, it physically hurt.