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Falynn
PLAYLIST: ? ALONE - DOJA CAT ?
I makeit three footsteps inside the women’s casino bathroom before I realize I’m not alone. Giancarlo shoves open the door, sending it bouncing off the nearby wall. A woman applying lipgloss at the mirror shrieks and rushes out. He steps aside, lets her pass through the doorway, and then slams shut the door.
The latch slides into place. He’s locked us inside.
I draw back several steps, a rock lodged in my throat. I can’t speak. I can’t even swallow. I’m trapped inside this bathroom with the last man on earth I want to be around. Even worse, I don’t know what he wants from me.
During dinner at La Pergola, he’d put his hand on mythigh. His hand had almost crept under my dress.
With Gio gone, he seems to be under the impression he has ownership of me. I don’t belong to him. I never will.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” I say shakily.
Giancarlo’s unfazed, his face an emotionless canvas. “You think you can disobey and then dictate who belongs where? Princess, you’re more confused than I thought. How many times do I have to tell you?”
He moves from his spot by the door, swooping toward me like a large bat. In his all-black suit, malice gleaming in his dark eyes, he might as well be the real thing. Before I can put more distance between us, he’s clutching me by the elbow.
His hold is dominating for no other reason than he can. Pure flex of power and control over me. He wants me to know I’m helpless. I can’t stop him no matter how hard I try—and, terrifyingly, he’s right.
Giancarlo swings me around, backing me up against the wall of the bathroom stall. I push and shove at him. He doesn’t even flinch. My protests are that futile.
“Listen,” he says, staring me dead in the eye. “The antics you’ve pulled tonight won’t be tolerated.”
“Then don’t touch me!”
He gnashes his teeth. “What part of you have no say, do you not understand? What part of you will do what you’re told is not sinking in? Do I have to show you a live demonstration?”
I’m lost staring up into the face of my tormentor. The moment feels nightmarish and unreal. It has to be some kind of bad dream that will be over any second. Yet as I stand pressed against the bathroom stall, trapped and caged in, a knot tightens in the pit of my stomach.
It is real.
This is my new reality. Gio’s gone and Giancarlo’s staking his claim.
What I want holds no significance.
A frustrated growl vibrates in my throat. There’s nothing I can do…
“You will learn to answer me when I ask a question,” Giancarlo snaps. Shoving me up against a bathroom stall isn’t good enough—I’m wrenched into his arms and twisted around. He brings us up toward the mirror above the sink. His long fingers snake up my throat and clench shut on my chin, jerking my face forward.
My gaze forcefully meets our reflection in the mirror. His dark eyes study my face, vacant and soulless. A shudder racks down my spine as my grim fate is confirmed.
I’m screwed.
This won’t end well for me. Giancarlo will make sure I’ll suffer. He’ll destroys me in every way imaginable, and take pleasure in every second of it.
His breath skims over me as his lips brush my ear. “You need to be taught the hard way. You want me to make it hurt. Don’t worry, princess, I will conquer you yet.”
We don’t look away from the mirror as his free hand begins to wander. The reflection shows us in lurid, violating detail how his hand travels along the curves of my body. He takes his time, takes liberties. His palm slides over my breast and then the flat valley of my stomach. He dips lower along my hips before he reaches the apex of my thighs.
I jerk in his hold, but he squeezes me tighter, his eyes on mine. The mirror reflects the ugly image, making the terror pit deeper in my stomach. His fingers creep in between and I clench them together hoping to keep him out. He’s going to have to pry them apart—
“Giancarlo?” calls someone from outside the restroom. The person bangs a fist against the locked door. “Are you in there? Some witnesses said they saw you rush in here? Are you coming back to La Pergola? They’re asking about you.”
His hand disappears from the nexus of my thighs and he stands straighter. “Explain to me, Fozzi, why you think it’s your place to come bang on my bathroom door?”
Fozzi pauses a second. “But, Giancarlo, it’s the woman’s restroom—”
