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I was once again, just a piece in someone else’s sick and twisted game. My feelings, wants, and needs didn’t matter.
I didn’t matter.
My whole life my parents had beaten into me that everything they did to me was for the bettering chance to one day be important to them.
To someone else.
But I wasn’t important. I wasn’t consequential. I wasn’t loved.
Never loved.
Never wanted.
Only used.
As the hardwood of the door bit into my forehead I felt a hardness growing around my heart and through my spine.
If he thought I’d just be a good little wife and play the part he wanted me to, he was wrong.
I wasn’t going to just lie down and let him use me to serve his needs.
I may be a Capasso now, but I was still Arianna.
It was time I started acting like my own savior since I was starting to realize I was never going to have a knight in shining armor come and rescue me from this tower I was locked in.
I’d traded my parents’ cruelty for captivity and sexual exploitation.
I wasn’t sure if I’d rather go back to being drugged, starved, and beaten than be manipulated by a man who was so good at playing with my mind that I let him play with my body without even realizing how uneven the scoreboard was.
Not anymore though.
I took the cup to the toilet and angrily stripped out of the offensive red satin and gave my sample, simply because I knew there was no way around it. When I was done, I washed my hands and wrapped a fresh white towel around my body staring at myself in the large mirror and I hardly recognized the anger burning in my eyes.
I opened the drawers of the vanity until I found the dainty pair of scissors, I’d seen there the other day and held them in my hands, contemplating how effective they’d be to stab my husband with, in his sleep. However, I knew that was ridiculous because the blades were barely an inch long. Was I even the kind of woman who had it in her to harm another person, even a man so deserving of it as Nicolas Capasso.
The bladeswerelong enough to shred satin though.
I picked up the robe and body suit and sliced them both to tattered shreds with shaking hands until I was left with a pile of fabric completely unrecognizable from what they had resembled moments ago.
A feral smile pulled up one side of my lips when I looked back in the mirror. I may not be able to best my husband at his own game. But I could sure as hell make him as miserable as I was along the way.
I tore the beautiful diamond choker from my neck that he had told me to leave on and flung it against the opposite wall, reveling in the way it clattered to the marble floor in a heap.
Fuck him.
Fuck his commands.
Fuck it all.
Adrenalin and anger pulsed inside of me like a living thing, and I needed a new outlet for it, or I’d go insane. I left the bathroom, ignoring the doctor and my maid completely, and walked to the master closet. I found the thickest and most drab clothing I owned, a black hooded sweater and a pair of grey leggings, and pulled them on over my body, shielding it from anyone who dared to look at me.
Next, I turned my attention to the drawers full of expensive lingerie that my husband was so fond of instructing me to wear.
Well, like I said before, fuck him.
I pulled piece after piece out, shredding them each with the scissors and throwing them in a pile on the floor like I was preparing for a large fire. Molly cautiously walked into the closet and stood at the doorway, watching me destroy the clothing like it had personally offended me and while I felt powerful for doing it, I also felt childish.
Used.
