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He smiles, satisfied. “Good girl.” I relax slightly, knowing I did the right thing in coming straight home. “And what do you think of Nero?”
I nervously tap my fingers on my knee under the table. I don’t know how to answer him without setting him off. “He’s very professional.”
“Do you feel safe with him?” I nod. “I’ve asked him to take you more places. I’m sure you’d like to go somewhere other than the supermarket.”
Sickness bubbles in my stomach. “There’s nowhere I need to go.”
“Tessa, you’ve been by my side or locked up in that house for years. Don’t you want more freedom?”
I think over my answer carefully. “I want whatever you want.”
“And I want you to have some freedom.”
“Why?” The word is out my mouth before I can stop it, and I try to calm the panic I feel at such a stupid mistake.
But Dante just smiles, relaxing back in his chair and watching me with amusement. “Maybe I’m getting bored of you,” he muses. I stare at him, not daring to speak. “Maybe I’ve met someone else.” I don’t react. “Or maybe, my darling wife, I just want to see you smile for once. It’s not fun staring at your miserable face.” And there it is, the cruel look in his eye.
“Have you met someone?” I ask. I’m not sure how I feel about this potential new information. I’ve never really thought about what would happen if Dante met someone else. Would it mean I’d get freedom? Probably not, as he’s not the type to let me walk away. That thought sits in my mind while I wait patiently for him to answer.
“You used to smile,” he continues like I haven’t spoken. “Even in the early days when you hated me.” I don’t point out that I’ve always hated him. “There were times when you’d almost look happy.” I grit my teeth together until they ache. He’s fucking delusional. I’ve been in survival mode since the day he forced me to pack my things and live with him, and any smile I may have sent his way was purely to keep him from hurting me. “When I showed you the new house, that was a happy moment.” He’s talking like he’s lost in thought and I’m not really sitting here wanting to scream. “I want to see you smile again.” He just needs to stop torturing me with his sick games. “I think we should have a child.”
“No!” I yell, almost jumping out my seat. Dante arches a brow, and I bite my lower lip, glancing round nervously at the few people who look over at my outburst. I take a breath and lower back down. “I mean, I don’t think it’s the right time.”
“You talk like I need your permission.”
The food arrives and he takes my plate, scraping half the salad from it before placing it back in front of me. Controlling my food is one of his favourite things to do. He doesn’t care if we’re in a restaurant, entertaining friends, or alone, he always removes something from my plate. I stare down at the green leaves I’m left with, most of the olives and feta now on a napkin. My stomach growls in protest and I fight back my tears.
“If you want a child, I’d need to eat properly,” I mutter, unable to stop myself.
“You also need to be a healthy weight,” he snipes, and I bite my lip. Answering him a second time will result in a painful night. The truth is, if I lose any more weight, I’ll be bones.
“I’d also have to see medical professionals,” I add. He’d hate that. Not only because they might see the bruises he leaves on my skin, but also because they might reach out a hand to help, and fuck knows I’d take it. I haven’t seen a doctor or nurse since before I met him eight years ago.
“I’d never deny you medical treatment, Tessa. What are you trying to say?” He’s daring me to call him out. When I don’t reply, he smirks. “You’re clumsy, and you bruise far too easily, right?” I nod begrudgingly. He’s drilled it into me so many times that it would always be my word against his, and who would believe me? A messed-up kid who grew up in a care home. The police could never fully protect me, and he’d kill me, I have no doubt about that, but then he’d find Callie and end her too. My mind wanders back to Emerson and that same feeling of sickness and pain swills around in my stomach.
I push the plate of leaves away. “I’m tired. Can we go home?”
He smiles. “When I’ve finished eating.”
NERO
“You’re very quiet today,” I say, watching Tessa as she scrubs the spotlessly clean kitchen cupboards. “Have you eaten breakfast?” She shakes her head but continues scrubbing. “Didn’t you clean those just the other day?”
“I don’t need to go out today. Feel free to go and keep busy,” she mutters.
“Dante insisted I take you out today.”
She stops, and her hands fall to her knees. I hear her silently sobbing and rush over. “Tessa, what’s wrong?” I gently touch her arm, and when she jumps in fright, I hold my hands up. “Sorry, I was just checking you were okay.” She jumps down off the kitchen worktop and sways, grabbing hold of the side to steady herself. I catch her, and she has no choice but to lean on me as I guide her over to a stool. “You haven’t eaten properly in days, have you?” I ask, and she shakes her head. “Let me get you something.”
“I’m fine.”
I ignore her and open the kitchen cupboard. It’s empty. I frown and go to the next, then the next, but they’re all bare. She watches with terror in her eyes. I go to the fridge, but again, it’s empty apart from a small amount of milk and butter. “Where’s the food?”
“I . . . I, erm . . .” She puts her head in her hands, and I go back to her, crouching down and tugging her hands away.
“Tessa, what’s going on?” Her tears fall silently with a look of hopelessness on her face. “Why isn’t there any food in the house?”
“I need to go shopping.”
