Sold to Moretti Mafia

Julian

Thoughts of last night swirl around inside my head like fish in a fishbowl. I shouldn’t have touched her, taunted her, or let her get under my skin, but there was no way around it. She is too naive for her own good. All but telling me to take her, reminding me that I paid for her-like I could forget.

Too much pent-up need combined with the alcohol in my system made it hard for me to control myself, and that’s why I snapped.

I wanted her, wanted her so bad, and yet I talked myself off the cliff’s edge.

All I could see was her fear reflecting back at me. It hit me right in the chest and made it hard for me to breathe. I couldn’t bring myself to continue, to hurt her, even though I knew soon enough, I would do just that. But a selfish part of me wanted to continue, wanted to take a taste, even against her wishes.

Sex would come soon enough, and me fingering her, will be the least of her worries.

As if she could hear my thoughts, Elena stirs beside me. Her eyes flutter open, and her head turns to see if I’m here or not. Apart from last night, I’ve held her every night since she got here. I couldn’t bring myself to do so yesterday.

Turning away, I disappear into the closet to get dressed. When I return, she is still in bed, the blanket pulled up to her chest, and her big blue eyes watching me like I’m a predator who is about to jump her.

She’s not wrong.

“Get dressed, we’ll have breakfast together on the terrace.”

That makes her perk up a little. She throws the blanket off her delicate body and scurries passed me and into the closet. A few moments later, she returns dressed in a casual outfit of jeans and a T-shirt. I’m half-tempted to tell her to put a dress on just so I can see her in one, but that will happen soon enough.

Plus, I don’t know that I can handle an argument with her this early in the day.

Taking her hand into mine, I walk at a more even pace so that she can keep up. She walks beside me silently, and when we reach the terrace, she lets out a low sigh. I hear her intake of breath and look over at her, watching as she sucks fresh air into her lungs and smiles.

She wasn’t made to be caged, it’s obvious, but letting her be free isn’t an option in our world. Not right now and maybe not ever.

We sit down, and I can already see her eyeing the fresh papaya I had ordered just for her. I know it’s her favorite. My spies kept me well informed about all her likes and dislikes. I wonder if she has noticed that there is always something on the menu that she is fond of.

As I expected, she reaches for the fruit first, then adds some yogurt and granola to her plate. I fill my own up with an omelet before I pour both of us a glass a fresh-pressed orange juice. I watch her take a few small bites, then decide it’s time to fill her in on our weekend plans.

“There is an event this Saturday. You will accompany me to it.”

The fork slips out of her hand and lands against the plate with a loud clunk. Her eyes go wide as she looks up at me.

“Y-you’re taking me out?” I don’t miss the excitement and hopefulness in her voice. Something about it pleases me. Knowing she is happy to go out with me means everything is going according to plan.

“Yes, it’s an auction. Your father and all of our business associates will be there. Everyone will see you by my side.”

Her face falls, the twinkle in her eyes that was there a moment ago vanishes faster than it appeared.

“I see. You want to show off your prize.” She leans back in her chair, her eyes trained on something in the yard.

“I thought you’d be happy I’m taking you.”

“And I would be if you’d do it for the right reasons,” she says without looking back at me.

“Like I said, I don’t wine and dine with women. You shouldn’t expect that from me.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she turns her body even further away from me. Twisting in her chair like she is physically sick by my closeness.

“I’ve lost my appetite. Can I go back to the room now?”

“You sure you don’t want to eat more? You only took a few bites.”

“I’m sure.”

“As you wish.” I drop my own fork and knife before getting up from my chair. Elena rises at the same time. I take her hand and pull her through the house like I always do, but this time it feels different. This is the first time she wants to go to her room. She would rather spend time alone than with me on the terrace, which enrages me for more than one reason.This is from NôvelDrama.Org.

“You’re hurting my hand.” Elena winces. I loosen my grip, not realizing how much I was squeezing her fingers.

An apology sits on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it down. I don’t need to apologize to anyone, not even her.

After locking Elena back in our bedroom, I head downstairs to the gym in the basement. I need to let off some steam, and since I can’t do that with my future wife, I have to let the punching bag take my wrath.

I lose track of time at the gym. All I know is that when I’m done, I’m soaked in sweat, and my knuckles hurt. I unwrap my hands and realize they are swollen too. Shit.

I take a quick shower, in the bathroom attached to the gym, and get dressed into an extra change of clothes I keep down here.

Unlocking my phone, I check the video surveillance from the bedroom. The feed pulls up, showing me my bedroom. Elena is on the bed, wearing the same clothes from this morning. She is on her stomach, her face hiding in the pillow.

Either she went back to sleep, or she is still pouting about this morning. Maybe both.

I shove my phone in my pocket and head upstairs to my office. I’m not even halfway up the stairs when I hear it. A high-pitched scream coming from the kitchen. Taking two steps at a time, I run up the stairs and down the long hallway leading to the kitchen.

When I enter, I find Lorelei, my cook, on the ground. Her lifeless body still, and her eyes open but completely blank. Marie–the new maid is standing over her sobbing, her hand clutched to her chest.

“I-is sh-she…” She stutters.

“Yes, she is dead.” I don’t have to check her pulse to know she is gone. The bluish color of her skin and the vacancy in her eyes says it all. “What the hell happened?” I ask as I take out the phone to text Markus.

Me: Get the fuck to the kitchen. Now.

“I-I don’t know. She was fine when I left to go to the store. I just got back and found her.”

Only now do I notice the groceries spilled out on the floor. The maid must have dropped the bags when she came in.

Markus comes up behind me a moment later. “What the fuck?”