Page 144 of Peasants and Kings
“Why didn’t you?” I demanded before I could stop myself.
His clasp on my hair tightened, but I refused to cry out in pain, even as tears sprung to my eyes. Raphael leaned down and pressed his cheek to mine. To anyone watching the scene, we might’ve looked like two lovers locked in a passionate embrace. But the words he whispered in my ear belied the truth.
“Because when I fuck you,” he said, his voice low, “I’m going to take my time, and I’m going to make it hurt. And just when you think I’ve had enough, I’m going to do it all over again until you’re pregnant.”
Bile surged up my throat, but Raphael released me. I gulped breaths of air voraciously, trying not to let him see my fear, but it didn’t matter.
Raphael knew—and he smirked when he saw the terror on my face.
He pulled out a jewelry box from his suit breast pocket. “Your engagement ring.”
When I made no move to take it, he opened it himself and took it out. He grabbed my hand and shoved the ring onto my finger. It was a gaudy, overpowering diamond set in a classic gold mount.
A symbol of my bondage.
“From this day forward, if you ever take off this ring, I’ll cut off your finger.”
With a jaunty chuck underneath my chin and a dazzling smile, he turned and waltzed down the front steps, whistling as he went.
His driver jumped out of the car and hastily opened the back door for his master to climb in as Raphael approached.
Raphael’s face appeared through the side window. He blew me a kiss when they departed.
I pressed my clenched fist to my heart, staring at the retreating lights of Raphael’s car. He was gone for now, but his terrifying presence remained.
When I started to shiver in the cool air, I turned to head up the steps and stopped. Luca stood in the doorway.
I wondered what he’d seen, and whether or not he knew the truth. It didn’t matter.
“Come into the salon,” he said quietly. “We’ll have a drink.”
I trekked closer to him, and just when I was about to pass him by, I spit in his face.
“Fuck you, Luca.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
I was alone after an exhausting day and finally had a measure of privacy. I slipped into the en suite bathroom of the room I was staying in and locked the door for good measure, even though I knew it would do nothing to keep anyone out.
I turned on the shower and stripped off all my clothes. Every inch of my body was sore. The lack of sleep had taken its toll, along with the sheer emotional upheaval and Raphael’s beating. Before stepping under the water, I looked at myself in the mirror. My gaze dropped to my flat belly and I slowly stole a hand across it.
“Are you still there?” I whispered, my heart beating with hope.
When I was finally under the showerhead and the warm water poured over me, I fell apart. I cried for all the terror I’d felt over the last couple of days. I sent up a fervent prayer that Hadrian was on his way, and I wondered why it was taking him so long to come for me.
Exhausted, I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. I grabbed a white fluffy towel and quickly dried off before wrapping it around me.
When I left the bathroom, I drew to a halt and gaped in surprise. Tor sat at the edge of my bed. He didn’t look at me when I entered; his body was hunched over as he leaned his elbows on his knees.
“What’s with you Moretti men?” I demanded, tightening my fist around the towel I wore. “You just show up in my bedroom like it’s your right.”
Tor didn’t supply a rebuttal. He got up off the bed and stalked to the balcony doors and peered out. “Get dressed. I want to show you something.”
“It’s late, Tor, and I’m tired.”
“It won’t take long.” He looked at me over his shoulder, his eyes glittering in the low lamp light.
“What’s this about?” I asked.
