Chapter Seventeen

I wake up, and Damiano isn't in our bed anymore. In fact, I haven't woken up with him in our bed for the past week. It's as if our wedding day and night were a fluke. A mere formality to prove we were married, consummating the marriage to make it valid, but nothing more. He hasn't even kissed my cheek when I enter the room. Nothing about our marriage seems the same as it did. That day was all for show.

I slide out of the bed, hating that I actually miss him. What's worse is I know he's at the club in the middle of the night and then comes home and sleeps elsewhere. Is it because he smells of some whore and he doesn't want me to know?

Thankfully I got my period last week, so there will be no consequences from our wedding night. Getting dressed and slipping on a cute pair of shorts with sandals and a tank top, I prepare for the Miami summer heat. With all our troubles gone, I can go out and enjoy life. Gracie, Mrs. Valentino, and I still haven't gone on our shopping trip, but since she returned, Mrs. Valentino has been insanely busy. Although given that I'm going to have a serious talk with my husband, we might not make it to that trip.

I exit our bedroom, and there is a guard outside my door, like there is every morning. They change it up, but I'm not sure if it's because they have a schedule or something, or because they like to keep me on my toes. However, I've had this tall, lanky guy who walks around in a leather jacket and jeans with a long braid. He's tatted on his neck and hands, but I don't pay attention to the details—only that he gives me the creeps. Almost like he doesn't fit in compared to the suits. It's stupid, but maybe it's because he's the oddball out. "Excuse me—Benz, is it?"

He gives me his attention. "Yes, Mrs. Valentino."

"It's Stella," I say, hoping to feel a little more at ease around him.

"Mrs. Valentino. How can I help you?" Damn it. There is no give with these people around here.

"I'm looking for Mr. Valentino," I say, wanting to see that dickhead husband of mine.

"He's in a meeting right now."

"Very well. Will you tell him I'm going for a walk and that I'll be back in an hour?"

"I can't let you do that, ma'am."

"What? Am I a prisoner in this home?" I question.

"It's the boss's orders." I toss him a dirty look and flip my ponytail as I stroll right past him and down the stairs.

"We'll see about that." I storm to his office, which I haven't been inside of because the doors are always closed, and he never lets me look inside. "Damiano, I'd like to talk—" I push open the double wooden doors to see my husband with a gun to a man's head while his father, Gabriele, and two other men all stare at me.

"Leave."

"Sorry, Boss."

Benz takes my arm and pulls me from the room, and then I hear a noise that can only be a muffled gunshot a moment later. "Benz, don't ever put your hands on my wife again, or you'll be next." Damiano grabs me by the waist and flips me over his shoulder, carrying me upstairs in a rush.

"Wife, what was so urgent that you felt the need to barge into my office like that?" Panic washes over me. I can't ask for a divorce now. What if he tries to kill me next? I have no idea what he's capable of.

"Damn it, I knew it. Stella, stop the fucking tears. You're not going to put this on me. I told you to stay out of there, and I'm sure you were told not to interrupt me. Why can't you do what you're told?"

"I was told I can't go on walks," I finally confess, stomping my foot.

He fists my hair, pulling me close so that his lips are just an inch from mine. "No, you fucking can't. Soon, though, you'll be free to do whatever you want."

"What does that mean?"

"When I find your stepfather, stepsister, and that bastard Rocco who helped them escape, I'll give you a divorce. You can have a happy life with all the damn strolls your heart desires. So, for now, you behave and be a good little wife." I stared at him, stunned, confused, brows twisting.

The only word that I can form is, "Okay."

He releases me roughly, seemingly annoyed with my response. "I have to shower and then go back to work."

"Work," I scoff, taking a seat on the bed. His shoulders tense up and he stops walking, turning to look at me. I expect a cold glare, but the look of disappointment is worse.

He turns back around and enters the bathroom, closing the door without a word. My head and heart are confused, even after this short time.

As much as I need space from him, I also need answers. There's nothing for me to do outside the room anyway, so I sit on the bed and wait. He doesn't keep me in suspense for long.

With a dark sneer, he says, "I'm surprised you're still there."

"Why? You act as though I have anything else to do."

"Yes, my home is so boring, Angel." He rolls his eyes.

"Listen, Mr. Valentino. Why don't we just get this over with now? You can file for divorce already. It's not like it matters to you anyway. I appreciate you stopping that horrible marriage and introducing me to the world of hot sex, but since those are both over, I can go on my merry way and find a real life and husband somewhere else."

He's on me in a second, eyes darkened, hand on my throat with enough force to hold me in place but not completely cutting off my air. "You're my wife until I say so, and you will not dare mention another man in my bed ever again."

How dare he? It's like a slap in the face to be left in limbo. "Why? You don't touch me. You don't want me after you find them, so what does it matter?"

"You want me to touch you, Wife? You want me to fuck you?" I bite down on my lip, damn near drawing blood. He tugs my lip free from my teeth's grip.

"Don't bite what's mine, Amore." His mouth crashes down on mine, roughly taking my breath away.

I rip my lips away and hiss, "I'm not yours."

Damiano's hand on my throat tightens while the other grips my wrist, lifting my hand up to my face. "This says otherwise." The shiny diamond ring is nothing but a mockery to me.

Staring into his stormy gray eyes, I remind him of his words. "It's temporary."

"Keep pushing me, Angel." He pins me to the bed with his firm body holding me down.

"What are you going to do? Show me how much you're just like the animals you saved me from?"

"No, I'm going to give you just what you want," he groans, dropping his lips to mine again and brutally kissing my lips, and I can't fight the longing. My thighs easily part, wanting and craving his touch. I give in so easily and he takes what he wants, making me come apart as he buries his massive cock in me until we're both crying out in pleasure.

The second we're both sated, he climbs off me, forgets all the tender passion, and dresses, leaving me naked and alone.