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“No,” I breathed, the word slipping from my lips before I even had a chance to think. I inhaled a shuddering gasp, my hands tensing at my sides as I held myself back. This was very dangerous territory, and despite my urge to push them, I wasn’t sure I was ready.
And as if I had voiced my thoughts aloud, they both stepped away from me at once, sending a cold rush of air to the place where their bodies used to be. They both walked casually back to the couch, flopping back down like nothing had happened at all. The only sign was a wry smirk on their lips as they shared a look, otherwise I might’ve thought I imagined it all.
Fucking men.
Chapter ten
Giana
Now
Athrobbingpressurepoundedin the side of my face, drawing me from my slumber, and had my eyes flashing open as panic set in. My hand flew to my face and cold fear pressed in on me as I attempted to put the pieces together. Had he done something to me while I slept? I tenderly touched the swollen skin just below my left eye as the events from last night rushed back to me.
He hit me. He backhanded me for … walking away from him, for not wanting to argue anymore. I winced as I sat up, my back twinging at the movement. I completely forgot about the fall too. Too much happened last night, and it took a moment for the fog of sleep to lift completely. So many ups and downs happened, along with my worst fear. I didn’t want to be this person, trapped in a loveless, toxic, and abusive relationship … and if he got his way it would be marriage. I shuddered at the thought and a sharp pain sliced up my spine.Okay, note to self—don’t move.
I groaned as I laid back down, contemplating whether I wanted to venture downstairs for some ice, or just stay in bed, when the door creaked open. I hurriedly glanced around me, only then realizing Tommaso hadn’t been in the room. My hands fisted as anger boiled in my veins, my fingers itching to wrap around his throat and watch the life fade from his eyes. That would be justice, the eyes that haunted me in both life and nightmares fading before me. The beginning of my dreams flashed through my mind where I pictured Tommaso’s face in place of the singer’s, his body twitching in agony on the gravel. Oh Tommaso would hate that, the humiliation of rolling around, piss stain on display, helpless in the gravel on top of the pain would be perfection.
I let that thought strengthen me as he pushed the bedroom door open. Sucking in a breath, I pinned him with a glare and prepared myself for whatever he could throw at me. Who knew what sort of mood he would be in? I didn’t want to be his punching bag for the next couple of weeks, but I couldn’t bear cowering to him, not now. My stomach clenched at the sight of him, and I pushed down the urge to launch myself across the room at him. The glare slipped from my face when I caught sight of the tray he carried in with him as he pushed the door closed with his back. My brows creased in confusion at the turn of events. I knew he’d been drunk last night, but I hadn’t expected such a complete switch this morning.
Head hanging as he approached, he was unable to even look me in the face as he propped the tray above my lap. My eyes flicked from him to the tray, taking in the breakfast he had brought for me. Fresh fruit sat in a bowl next to a plate of various pastries, along with a plate of sausage and eggs. A glass of orange juice and a mug of coffee accompanied them, along with two ice bags. My stomach soured at the spread, suppressing the urge to toss it across the room. I really didn’t need another bruise on the other eye, not if I was going to go out searching for a job again anytime soon.
The bed dipped beside me, and I reluctantly turned my attention to him. Somehow I was able to keep my fingers from gouging the fake remorse from his face.
“I’m so sorry, mi amore,” he pleaded, his brow creasing as he gently took my hand in his, cradling it as though he actually cared. I swallowed the snort that begged to leave my throat and clamped my lips shut. “I just needed you to understand how dangerous it was to do what you did. This isn’t like New York; everyone here knows you, knows that you’re mine, and will use you just to get back at me.”
I sat completely still, schooling my face from my innermost thoughts. My brows itched to knit together at his explanation, unsure how hitting me could possibly convey all that.
“I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you, Giana.” My hand twitched in his, and he squeezed it in response, interpreting that as a gesture of understanding rather than me attempting to hold myself back from clawing his eyes out. “I know it will take time for you to forgive me, but I promise I will never hurt you again.”
I hoped he choked—choked on his lies, on his promises I knew he wouldn’t keep, on a dick—I really couldn’t care less what it was, but I wanted to see that light leave his eyes more than anything.
He didn’t wait for me to say anything, apparently assuming correctly that I had nothing to say. Instead, he reached under my arms and helped me sit up, the muscles in my back groaning in protest with each inch. He continued, gently propping me up with pillows and placing the ice pack behind me.
“Anything you need, mi amore, I’ll get it for you—you don’t have to worry about a thing,” he assured. I couldn’t do anything more than nod, because if I opened my mouth I wasn’t sure what would have come out. Who did he think he was fooling after six years? I knew this wasn’t him, I knew there was something else going on other than his feeble attempt to turn back the clock to before he struck me. “You just focus on icing that eye today. Because we do have that party tomorrow and you know how my father is.” And there it was, it was all about optics, of course. He couldn’t have me going to his parents’ house, or wherever the hell we were going now, hobbling around with a black eye. He was right though, I knew how his father was, and that wouldn’t be an excuse not to show up, especially after how many times his own mother showed up to functions with bruises peeking out from beneath her dresses and worn-down makeup.
I didn’t even bother asking about the party, last I heard it was just supposed to be a family dinner. But of course, the Barones didn’t do anything halfway. They’d welcome their son back with a huge party and announce our wedding date while they were at it. And why wouldn’t they, it’s not like I would need to know anything like that.
I just hoped it wasn’t in the next two weeks while I put my plan in place, because there was no way in hell I would ever chain myself to a man like him.
One of us would be dead by the time the church bells rang.
Hekepttruetohis word, letting me stay in bed while I rotated the ice on and off my back and cheek, and by the end of the day, I was actually able to walk somewhat normally and the swelling had gone down in my face.
Once the pain had subsided in my back, we switched to a heating pad to help relax the spasming muscles. Luckily the damage hadn’t been too bad so there weren’t really any bruises. My face, on the other hand, was another story. Despite icing it off and on throughout the day, it really only helped the swelling, and my cheek was still a purple mottled mess. Thankfully he didn’t hit too close to my eye so the impact hadn’t affected it, but there was no way I could leave the house without layers of makeup on, which I’d have to apply carefully since pain still bloomed there every time I touched it or made a facial expression … So needless to say, I still hadn’t really spoken to him since yesterday, other than one-word answers to his questions.
I pulled myself up in the bed as the door cracked open and Tommaso carried in a tray of breakfast for the second morning in a row. I had no doubt in my mind that after today his apologetic behavior would end, and he’d switch back over to attempting to suffocate and lock me away.
“Breakfast, mi amore,” he announced, a faint smile on his lips as he placed the tray above my lap with the same spread from yesterday. I knew he hadn’t made it for me, we had a chef come in to make our meals for the day, but there was no way he’d allow her to bring it up to me. No, because then she’d be a witness. “It’s looking a lot better today,” he announced, but I could tell from the crease between his brows he was just saying that to make himself feel better.
I picked up a croissant, breaking a piece off and placing it on my tongue, letting the buttery taste coat my mouth. It also helped that now that I was eating, he couldn’t expect me to talk to him. I just wondered how long I’d be able to keep him at arm’s length. Probably just long enough for the bruise to heal, for the evidence of his abuse to fade from my face, then the guilt-tripping for my “behavior” would start up again.
“I have everything ready for you. Your dress and jewelry are all laid out so all you need to worry about today is resting and icing that eye,” he announced in a chipper tone, smiling as though he had already forgotten he was the cause of the bruise adorning my cheek.
I hadn’t asked yesterday but he explained on his own that his parents had thought it was best to throw us an official engagement party tonight rather than a simple dinner, just like I expected. So rather than the Barone mansion, they rented out the massive hall in town, and unfortunately, most of the town would be in attendance tonight, including my parents. If I hadn’t wanted to go to the party before, that information alone made me want to argue I wasn’t going. But there was no way that was going to happen, especially not now that tonight was supposed to be an engagement party for the two of us. My chances of getting out of the dinner would’ve been slim to none, but the embarrassment of me not showing up with the whole town watching, wouldn’t be tolerated.
“I have to go set up for tonight, but don’t worry, I made an excuse for you so you have more time to relax.” I fisted my hands in the sheets to keep them from throttling him. “I love you,” he murmured, looking down on me tenderly. He placed a soft kiss on the top of my head and bile rose in my throat at the show of affection, souring the taste of croissant that was still in my mouth.I swear I could kill him just for ruining that for me, fuck everything else. Pastry is life.
He looked at me expectantly, and I swallowed the scream of frustration that bubbled up. The fucking nerve—he thought I would say I loved him after everything? So I just gave him a tight-lipped smile and pointed to my lips pretending to still chew the piece of croissant I’d already swallowed, along with a halfhearted wave. His brow lowered into a glower for a brief moment until his eyes locked onto the bruise he’d given me.
