CHAPTER NINETEEN

I hesitated; the words caught in my throat as I considered how to phrase the questions swirling in my mind. Mateo’s presence was overwhelming, a constant reminder that the stakes here were high—too high for me to be anything less than direct.

Finally, I took a deep breath and set down the croissant, wiping my hands on the linen napkin. “What exactly do you expect from me?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “What does being your wife really mean? I need to understand what I’m agreeing to, Mateo.”

He studied me for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing how much to reveal. The silence stretched between us, thick with tension, before he finally leaned back in his chair, swirling the whiskey in his glass as he spoke.

“Being my wife means many things,” he began, his tone measured .

“It means standing by my side, not just as a partner in name but as someone who understands the power and responsibility that comes with my world. It means loyalty, obedience, and knowing when to speak and when to be silent.” He paused, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that made my pulse quicken. “It means you belong to me, utterly and completely, in every sense of the word.”

There was no sugar-coating, no attempt to make this seem like anything other than what it was—a binding agreement with a man who was accustomed to getting exactly what he wanted.

“And in return,” he continued, his voice softening just a fraction, “I will give you what you seek. I will make sure you see your sister again, and I will protect you in ways you can’t even begin to imagine. But make no mistake, Elena—this is not a negotiation. This is your reality now.”

I wet my lips and reached for my water .

The deal was clear: my life, my freedom, in exchange for his protection and the promise of finding Eva. It was a terrifying proposition, but deep down, I knew there was no turning back. I didn’t dare ask if he would be loyal to me as well. The thought flickered briefly in my mind, but I quickly pushed it aside. This wasn’t a union of love or something born from a genuine relationship. It was an arrangement—a calculated move in a much larger game where emotions held little value.

Mateo’s loyalty would only extend as far as it served his interests, and I knew that asking for more would be a mistake. In this world, trust wasn’t given freely; it was earned through power, control, and fear. Anything beyond that was a luxury, and luxuries weren’t part of this deal. I kept my expression neutral, refusing to let any doubt show on my face. If I was going to survive this, I couldn’t afford to reveal all of my weaknesses, especially in front of Mateo .

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady on me as I took a few more bites of fruit. “Anything else?” he asked, his voice deceptively casual, though there was an undercurrent of something darker beneath. His eyes tracked every bite of the strawberry I brought to my lips, and I couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t eating at all.

I hesitated, feeling his scrutiny like a weight on my shoulders, before deciding to ask about something that had been nagging at me. “What about the living situation?”

He didn’t miss a beat, his reply coming swift and sharp. “You have no reason to step foot in your old home again,” he stated. “But because I’m such a kind man, I’ll allow you to visit tomorrow. You can announce our engagement then before we hold a ceremony.”

“Engagement?” The word throwing me off kilter.

“Do I look like a man who would have a shotgun wedding at a courthouse? ”

“You don’t really look like the wedding type at all,” I replied honestly.

“Why not? You think I look good in a suit, wait until you see me in a tux.”

“A tux? Seems a bit too civilized for you.”

He laughed lowly. “I know you’re not a morning person--..”

“You couldn’t possibly--.”

“I know more than you can imagine,” he cut me off. “And civilized isn’t the word I’d use, but I assure you, you’ll be wearing white, I’ll be in a tux, and at the end of the night, your dress will be stained red.”

I stared at him, turning those words over in my head. He wasn’t talking about sex.

“Anyways,” he reached for his drink. “I know you aren’t a morning person, but if last night didn’t put you in a good mood, I shouldn’t have gone so easy on you.”

That was easy? I ached every time I moved, and there was a faint bruise around my throat from how hard he’d gripped it .

“So, we’re going to do the whole engaged thing?” I changed the subject.

He grinned at my obvious deflection, deepening his dimples. “We’ll be engaged, and then you’ll have a wedding fitting of your new name and of my bride.”

I was quiet for a moment, trying to process the implications of what he was saying. This was spiraling into something far more serious than I had imagined. “This is for show, right?” I asked cautiously. “You don’t expect us to behave like an actual married couple?”

“Do you have a problem with hearing or is it comprehension you’re struggling with?” he asked, his voice laced with mockery. “You will be my wife in the truest sense of the word,” he explained, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that left no room for doubt. “And in my bed every night.”

“But what happens after you find my sister?” My voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to remain composed .

“You have my children,” he replied, his tone matter of fact as if discussing the most mundane of topics.

The simplicity of his words hit me like a punch in the gut. There was no affection or romanticism in his declaration. The reality of it all settled over me like a cold, heavy weight. This wasn’t just about finding Eva. This was about securing a future—his future—through me. I was a means to an end, a vessel for his ambitions. Any remaining illusion I might have had about being anything other than a piece in his game was shattered.

"We need to work on your poker face, anjinho ," he said softly. "This isn’t a bad thing. I’m not the worst you could do. In fact, I’m quite the sought-after bachelor."

I frowned, the urge to push back gnawing at me. "Yes, Pey—" I cut myself off abruptly, realizing I was about to mention Peyton. I wasn’t going to drag my friends any deeper into this .

Mateo’s grin widened, his expression all too knowing. “Nice catch,” he murmured, clearly pleased with my slip.

I ignored his comment, trying to steer the conversation back on track. "So, we can never divorce?" I asked, hoping there was some room for negotiation in this arrangement, some semblance of an escape plan.

He tilted his head, studying me with that same unsettling intensity. "How about I have your grave dug as an early wedding present?" he suggested, his voice calm, almost gentle. "Whenever you decide to leave me, you can go there."

I knew that wasn’t a bluff or empty words. He truly meant that.

"I’ll join you soon after," he added before I could muster a response, his tone still deceptively soft. "I’ll make sure that when my time comes, you’re exhumed, and I’m added to your casket. Then we’ll be together again. "

My mouth went dry as I tried to find the right words. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, each beat a reminder of the gravity of the situation. “I… I guess that’s one way to ensure we stay together,” I finally managed to say, forcing the words out despite the tightness in my throat.

Mateo’s gaze remained steady, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips as he watched me grapple with the reality, he’d laid out so clearly. There was nothing I could say to change his mind, nothing I could do to alter the course he’d set for us. All I could do was accept it—or at least pretend to.

How did I end up in this position, tangled in a world so far removed from the life I once knew?

Maybe, in some screwed-up, tragic way, this was meant to happen. If it brought my sister back to me, then I could—and would—endure it. For her, I would withstand anything .

I took another sip of ice water, the coolness soothing the turmoil swirling inside me. “So… what now?” I asked, my voice calm despite the chaos in my mind.

He leaned back in his chair. “I have some business to handle in the city tonight. You’ll be joining me,” he replied. “Your wardrobe isn’t here yet, so I’ve arranged for a driver to take you to La Galerie Noir so you can get something for you to wear. But first…” He trailed off, sliding his chair back with a smooth motion. “Come here.”

I hesitated for a moment, then slowly pushed my seat back and stood, walking around to his side of the table. My heart raced as his eyes followed my every move, a predatory gleam lurking just beneath the surface. When I reached him, he placed his hands gently on my thighs, guiding me to sit on his lap. The closeness of him was overwhelming, his warmth seeping into my skin as I settled into place, grippin g the arms of the chair to steady myself.

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small velvet box, its rich fabric a stark contrast to the sharp edge of his demeanor. He opened it slowly, revealing an engagement ring that took my breath away. The blue diamond at its center was encased by a delicate halo of pink diamonds, the colors striking against the platinum band. I didn’t know its value, but I could tell it was worth more than anything I’d ever owned—or ever would. It was a piece that screamed wealth, power, and exclusivity—everything Mateo represented.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered as I looked down at the ring, unable to meet his gaze.

He gently gathered my hair, pulling it to one side. The warmth of his breath brushed against my exposed skin, sending a shiver down my spine. Then, with a tenderness that seemed almost out of place, he pressed a soft kiss to my neck. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to process the rush of emotions flooding through me.

He took hold of my hair again, gathering it in one hand while the other slid beneath my dress. I gasped, my eyes flying open when he tugged on my hair. As his hand roamed higher up my thigh, a surge of panic gripped me. I pushed against his chest, trying to create some distance between us.

"Mateo, stop," I pleaded.

“Already testing me again, anjinho .”

Despite my fear, a stubborn fire ignited within me, urging me to stand my ground. I pushed against him with more force, determination lending me strength. "I said stop," I repeated, my voice firm and unwavering this time. Mateo's grip tightened, sending tiny sparks of pain through my scalp.

His breath ghosted over my ear as he chuckled darkly, the sound sending a chill down my spine. "You think you can tell me when to stop?" His words were a taunt, a challenge laced with arrogance.

With a quick movement, he pulled my underwear to the side and slid two fingers inside me. I whimpered against the discomfort, biting my lip to stifle it. He worked his fingers in and out, his thumb circling my clit. “Spread your legs.”

The fear in my heart threatened to consume me, but the defiance still burned. Despite the overwhelming force Mateo wielded, I refused to let him dominate me completely. Taking a deep breath, I forced my legs apart, even as my body screamed in protest. I tasted blood from how hard I was biting my lip, the soreness from the night before lingering. In an instant, his grip on my hair was gone and his hand tightened around my throat.

My body was lifted off his lap as I struggled to swallow against the suffocating pressure on my windpipe. He swept aside the neatly arranged dishes on the table, causing them to clatter and shatter against the unforgiving concrete floor.

He roughly maneuvered me so that I was bent over the table's edge, now fully facing the crystal-clear pool just beyond. My heart pounded with a steady, painful rhythm against my chest as I steeled myself for what was to come next. The fear and anticipation coiled in the pit of my stomach, threatening to overwhelm me. But I refused to give in, refused to beg or plead for mercy he wouldn’t give. My pride had already been shattered into a million pieces and now it was being further torn apart.

Every moment felt like an eternity as I waited for the inevitable.

I heard his belt buckle and closed my eyes.

At the sound of his zipper going down, I froze. He edged closer behind me. "Your defiance is amusing, but I promise you, it will only cause you more harm than good. "

I didn't respond, my mind and body trying to conjure some form of strength to endure.

The sensation of his fingers teasing me again caused my body to tense, anticipating the pain to come. "You're mine now. You're going to take all of me, and you're going to enjoy it. I can feel your body betraying you, wanting me."

I tried to deny it, but the truth was there, undeniabl e . He lifted my dress up and over my hips, then entered me forcefully. Without the numbing effects of alcohol, his cock felt even larger and more painful.

"It hurts," I managed to gasp out.

"I think it feels fucking amazing," he replied, pulling out and thrusting back in. "You'll get used to it."

He grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back so forcefully I feared he might rip it out. With each hard, punishing thrust, he showed no mercy as he fucked me. I hated I could feel myself growing slick around him, his cock sliding in and out faster as my juices lubricated his every movement.

It was a vile and violent dance, my body betraying me with its involuntary responses, while my mind screamed for this end. Each time he pushed deeper, I felt like he was tearing me apart, both physically and emotionally.

"Don’t you like this, Anjinho?" his voice a mocking taunt.

I hated him for this. Hated myself even more as a low moan escaped my lips. I clenched my fists as the pain gradually gave way to pleasure. I shook my head, but the lie tasted bitter in my mouth. I could feel his muscles flexing and tension as he thrust deeper and deeper. The pain continued to mix with pleasure, creating a confusing, intense mix of sensations. I was losing control, being consumed by these overwhelming feelings, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

His grip on my throat tightened, and I could barely breathe. My vision began to blur, and I felt like I was slipping away, spiraling into a darkness that would swallow me whole.

In the haze of conflicting emotions, I could feel tears streaming down my cheeks. I closed my eyes, trying to escape the intensity of the situation, but it was no use. I could feel the waves building, an unstoppable force sweeping over me.

I struggled and lost to suppress whimpered moans. “That’s it,” he rasped, his lips brushing against my ear. "Let it all go. Don't fight it." His grip on my throat tightened, the other going to my hip so that he could fuck me harder, sending the table scraping against the concrete.

I desperately clawed at the glass surface of the tabletop. My vision swam with a cacophony of colors and sounds so overwhelming I could barely make sense of anything. The rough scraping of the table against the floor echoed my own ragged gasps, amplifying the scene and leaving me soaking wet and shamefully exposed .

"You’re almost there.” His voice was tinged with a husky edge.

As the words left his lips, his fingers loosened their tight grip on my throat and I gasped for air, the cool rush of oxygen a welcome relief. But just as quickly, his hand closed around my neck again, cutting off my supply and causing me to whimper in desperation. I could feel my heart racing in fear and exhilaration at the same time.

I desperately tried to gather my wits about me, but my mind was a whirlwind of emotion and sensations. With each thrust, he was taking something from me and giving something else in return – pain, pleasure, control, surrender. A voice was screaming to resist, but my head was spinning, and my body wasn’t getting the message. As he continued to dominate me, I felt the familiar signs of release.

In one swift motion, he pulled out of me completely .

His grip on my throat was still firm as he forced one of my legs up onto the table, my knee digging into the hard surface.

With a foreign curse, he thrust back into me with an unrelenting force. The new angle had his cock hitting a spot deep inside me that sent unending pleasure coursing through my entire body. I started coming, soaking his cock with my come and something gushing out of my pussy, drenching him, the table, and the floor beneath us. My legs trembled and an endless moan escaped me as I surrendered to the intensity of the orgasm.

“You feel so goddamn good,” he ground out, his hips pounding into me harder than before, relenting only occasionally to let my oxygen-starved lungs gasp for breath before cutting it off abruptly, only to have me whimper in desperation once more. My body was on fire, each and every nerve ending alight. I could feel another climax building, a crescendo of sensations that threatened to consume me whole. I wanted to resist, to cling to the last shreds of sanity, but it was futile.

I was lost to him, my body responding to his every command. Before I could even realize it, I was coming again, a tidal wave of ecstasy crashing over me as he continued to fuck me mercilessly. My body convulsed, gasping for air as he held me down, never missing a beat as he took me to the edge of madness and back again. He felt it too the shuddering of my body beneath him, the tightening of my muscles around his cock. He released my hip and slid his hand around to my clit his fingers expertly working it in sync with his thrusts.

“Please come,” I pleaded, needing him to finish.

“You want me to come inside you?”

I nodded, unable to speak through my haze of pleasure and desire. "Yes," I managed to gasp out.

“Beg for it. ”

The demand was delivered with a detachment that was at odds with what he was doing to me, laced with a twisted kind of pleasure.

Fresh tears filled my eyes as I began to beg, stammering over moans and trying to breathe.

"P-please," I breathed, my voice breaking as I felt the edge of another impending orgasm building within me. "Please, please.”

“That’s it,” he praised, his voice a deep rumble that reverberated through me. “Say it again."

"Please, Mateo," I rasped, "Please come inside me." My words were punctuated by gasps and moans as he continued to thrust. He slapped my clit hard, sending a jolt of electric pleasure coursing through me. "Fuck!” I cried out, the pain and pleasure melding into a single agonizingly beautiful sensation.

“Come for me again.” He slapped my clit a second time and bottomed out inside me. My body trembled uncontrollably, his words, his touch, his dominance overwhelming my senses.

I cried out, a long, drawn-out moan that seemed to last forever.

"Yes, yes," I panted, clinging to him as I rode out the orgasm, crying out his name.

“That’s it, good girl.” He continued stroking my clit, sending aftershocks of pleasure coursing through me. I was still coming when he buried himself as deep inside me as he could and with a curse, I felt him throbbing inside me. My walls tightened around his cock, drawing him deeper.

The world around me seemed to shift. The sounds of our bodies colliding and the scraping of the table against the floor faded into the background, replaced by an eerie silence. I struggled to focus, to find my bearings, but it was as if the air itself had thickened, making it difficult to breathe.

As suddenly as it had begun, it was over .

Mateo slowly withdrew from me, leaving me gasping for air and shaking, my mind a mess of confusion. At the sound of his belt buckle, I began to lower my leg.

“Not yet.” He reached between my legs and used his fingers to push back the come that had started to leak out. “Better.” He took hold of my thigh and lowered my leg back down before turning me around, keeping me pressed between him and the table. "Now clean these off," he ordered.

I hesitated for a moment, but I knew that I had to do this. As I sucked, he slid his other hand to my pussy, slipping two fingers inside. I sucked in a breath, but I didn't protest. I knew what he wanted--me obedient, and submissive. He turned his hand palm up, and curled his fingers, slowly fucking me with his hand. My whimper was cut off by his lips crushing mine, his tongue probing my mouth.

A sloshing sound filled the air as he pushed deeper, roughly finger-fucking me. My thighs were wet with my own come and juices. “Oh,” I moaned, my breath hitching. “Mateo.”

I dug my nails into his shoulders, moaning wildly as I squirted all over him, my pussy spasming around his fingers.

“That’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen,” he stated, watching my body convulse with pleasure. “You’re beautiful, Elena.” He took hold of my jaw with his other hand and kissed me, rolling my clit with the pad of his thumb. He laughed against my lips as I came again with a low, pitiful moan, squeezing his hand between my legs. He remained like that for a moment, kissing me gently before finally pulling his hand away.

I swallowed, my eyes darting around as I tried to catch my breath. We’d moved quite a distance from where we started, and my mind was still processing what had just happened.

He gripped the back of my neck, and my eyes flew to his. “Today, as you feel me every time you so much as breath, and see that ring on your finger, I want you to remember the man you belong to."

I nodded, unable to speak through the emotions welling up inside me.

“Good girl," he said, his hand gently caressing my cheek. “If you begin to forget, I’m always willing to remind you again.” He leaned in and brushed his lips over mine one last time. “Now you will go inside and make sure not a single drop of my come leaves my pussy unless you want me to put it back the hard way. Understand?”

I nodded again, my heart still racing.

“When you’re done, your driver will be waiting for you out front.” He released me and stepped back. “I’ll see you tonight.” He turned as if to walk away but then suddenly stopped. “What do you think of this view?”

Confused, I glanced in the direction he’d motioned. The pool sparkled in the fading sunlight, the water shimmering like a trophy in the stillness of the evening. Was this a metaphor for something?

"I think it's beautiful," I said hesitantly, uncertain if I was answering correctly.

“I think so too.” He left then, leaving me alone with my confusion and my raging emotions.