Chapter 91
Chapter 91
His grip on my arms was bruising.
My back was flush against the cold wall, the breath stolen from my lungs as he pressed into me like he needed to remind me exactly who I belonged to.
I hated it. I hated how annoying and bipolar he could seem at times. It pisses me off. Even though he was toxic, my body still wanted him
And I would never admit that.
I met his eyes. Didn’t flinch.
“You can’t.”
His stare sharpened.
“What did you say?” he asked, voice too calm.
“You heard me,” I breathed. My pulse was wild, but I held his gaze. “You say things, Dominic. You throw threats like confetti. But you can’t actually keep me forever. You don’t own me.”
His jaw flexed,
He gripped my arms tighter, dragging my body forward and slamming me back into the wall again. The impact wasn’t hard, but it was warning enough.
His nose brushed mine as he leaned in, hot breath slipping across my lips.
“Want to test me, gattina?” he whispered. “Want to find out what happens when you make me prove it?”
My breath hitched. My mouth opened, then closed.
“Don’t push me,” he growled. “You don’t get to run. You don’t get to lie to my face, sneak out of my bed, and slip through my goddamn window like I don’t see everything.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.
Because I had run. And I had lied. And he’d caught me–again.
His hand slid down, not soft, not sweet–claiming. Rough fingers gripped my waist, then spun me around.
I gasped as my chest hit the wall.
“What are you-”
The first slap landed hard against my ass.
Sharp. Jarring. My body jolted.
“You want to act like a brat?” he hissed against my ear. “Then I’ll treat you like one.”
My teeth bit down on my lip, breath shuddering.
The second slap was harder.
“You think you’re clever?” Smack. “You think I don’t know every move you make?” Smack. “I gave you an inch, and you tried to take a fucking mile.”
I braced my hands on the wall, shame burning my skin, my pride twisted into something raw.
“You said-”
Smack.
“-you wanted freedom,” he murmured, voice gravel now. “But you were safest in my bed. Under my hands. Under my eyes.”
The fifth slap was slower. Cruel. Measured.
“You keep pushing me,” he said darkly, “and I’m going to stop holding back.”
I swallowed hard, tears blurring my eyes–not from pain. From anger. From humiliation. From how twistedly alive I felt right now when I should’ve been terrified.
He turned me back around, chest heaving, eyes black with fury and something else. Something darker.
Possession.
My hair clung to my face. My legs were shakin
Successfully unlocked!
His voice dropped. “You don’t get to challenge me, Aria. Not like that.”
“Then stop pretending I’m not a hostage,” I snapped.
He stilled.
1/3
Chapter 91
“You say you care. You say you’re trying But all you do is control and punish me like I’m some toy you bought His jaw ficked. “You think I don’t know that?”
“Then let me go
“No”
“Why?” I snapped.
He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at me with a fory he didn’t even bother hiding scre
“Because I’d rather die than let anyone else have you”
My breath caught.
“I’ll burn this entire city before I watch you walk away from me, Aria. So go ahe
His head dipped, mouth brushing mine with a dangerous tenderness
“Try me again. Next time, I won’t be this gentle.”
And with that, he stepped back. Just a few inches,
Just enough for air to come back.
But not enough to feel free.
I stood there, my palms still against the wall, skin still burning where he’d touched me, where held claimed me like he had the right. I didn’t look at him right away. I was too busy trying to keep the rage from spilling over, mixing with the grief that hadn’t stopped eating at me since I collapsed in his arms.
When I finally turned, my voice came out quieter than I expected.
“I want to bury my family”
His eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“I want to bury them,” I repeated, steadier this time. “My mother. My father. Wherever their bodies are… I want to bury them properly. I want a funeral.”
His jaw clenched, but he didn’t speak.
“I don’t care if it’s dangerous, I added. “I don’t care who’s watching or what it risks. They deserve more than a shallow grave and a whispered apology.”
Silence stretched between us.
I didn’t flinch. I didn’t beg. I was done with begging.
Dominic’s gaze dropped for a second, his expression flickering–not with guilt, but calculation. He looked like he was already running the numbers in his head, weighing the threat versus the fallout.
“You said you’d do anything to protect me,” I said softly. “Then let me say goodbye.”
He ran a hand down his face, stepping away to pace once before turning back to me.
“It’s not about what I want, Aria. It’s about who’s watching. Mikael’s men will be all over the cemetery. You think they’ll let you mourn in peace?”
“I don’t care what they let me do,” I said. “I’m not asking them.”
“I can’t guarantee it’ll be clean,” he snapped, frustration bleeding into his voice now. “I can’t promise it won’t end with a bullet through your chest.”
“Then don’t promise anything,” I replied. “Just take me.”
Dominic stared at me for a long time. Then, finally, he muttered, “You’re lucky I’m obsessed with you.”
I didn’t smile.
Didn’t thank him.
Because this wasn’t a gift
It was a right.
“You’ll have a day for your family,” Dominic said, voice low but edged in regret. “It is my fault that they are gone. If only protection was tighter.”
I didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. My throat was tight with silence.
“Wear black,” he added coldly as he walked past me. “Don’t bring that damn duffel bag again.”
I watched his back as he left the room.
2/3
Chapter 91
The door clicked shut behind him like a lock snapping into place.
I stood there, frozen, chest rising and falling too fast. My arms were still wrapped around myself like I had to hold in what was left of me.
My parents were gone.
And the man who killed them–whether with a bullet or with neglect–was the same man who kissed me like he owned me and threatened to chain me to his side.
I slid to the floor slowly, pressing my forehead to my knees. I didn’t cry. I didn’t have Tears left.
Just… empty space where things used to be.
The silence stretched until it started to buzz.
Then–three soft knocks.
I didn’t answer. The door creaked open anyway.
“Miss Aria?”
A voice. Soft. Careful.
I looked up slowly, blinking through the blur.
It was the maid. Emilia.
The same one who brought water that morning I woke up alone. She usually didn’t speak much. But now she stood in the doorway holding a folded black dress in her arms, her face pale and cautious.
“You’re supposed to wear this,” she said. Her voice was quiet, but not cold. “Mr. De Luca told the staff.”
I nodded. “Leave it there.”
She hesitated, then stepped in slowly and set it gently on the edge of the bed.
I turned my face away. But she didn’t leave.
I felt her stillness before I looked back up.
Her eyes met mine. She didn’t say anything for a second, and I didn’t expect her to.
But then, softly, “I’m sorry about your parents.”
I blinked.
No one had said it. Not like that. Not in a way that wasn’t dipped in power or control or blame.
My lip trembled before I could stop it. “They weren’t perfect,” I whispered, “but they were mine.”
Emilia stepped closer, and her voice dropped lower. “If I could get you out, I would.”
I stared at her.
“I see how he looks at you,” she said. “It scares me.”
A shaky breath left my chest.
I didn’t know what to say to that. She was just a maid. Just someone who kept her head down and survived. But right now …she was the only person in this whole place who looked at me like I was human.
“Thank you,” I said hoarsely. “That means more than you know.”
She gave me a quick nod, then glanced at the door like she’d already said too much. “I’ll come help you dress before the car leaves. One hour.”
E
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