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"Like I care about your stupid points!" I spit, continuing to thrash in his hold.
"Fine," he grumbles, "I'll take away the point, then. You'll learn your lesson soon enough."
My fury only grows as we enter the elevator, and I keep kicking and screaming, pushing him to his limits. His brow furrows, and he scolds me, but I refuse to stop. Something stubborn inside me wants to see just how far I can push him. And then, without any further warning, he spanks me. The sharp sting of his hand on my behind silences me instantly.
The elevator ride after that is painfully quiet, with only our breathing to fill the silence. As Giovanni carries me through the mansion and back to my room, I find myself struggling to process what just happened. No one has ever treated me like this before, and I'm left with a confusing mix of anger, humiliation, and – to my own surprise – a strange sense of exhilaration.
When we reach my room, Giovanni sets me down and turns me around, scrutinizing the damage to my once-pristine dress. "You got it dirty," he says, his tone a mixture of disappointment and irritation. "Now I'll have to get it dry cleaned... if I can even get the dirt and oil out of it."
"Good," I snap, glaring up at him. "Serves you right."
He steps closer, his tall frame towering over me as I instinctively back up until I'm pressed against the wall. He leans in, his eyes narrowing as he speaks. "Let's get something straight. I don't have to bring you to the office with me. I don't even need to give you such nice accommodations. This mansion used to be the headquarters of a revered mafia family. If you think there aren't cold, dark cells with nothing but straw in the basement, then you're sorely mistaken."
The threat in his voice sends a shiver down my spine, and I swallow hard, unable to form any words in response. Internally, though, my anger boils, and I silently vow to find a way out of this gilded prison.
Giovanni's expression hardens as he turns to leave. "Change out of that dress," he commands, his voice cold. "Someone will collect it for dry cleaning. And since you can't behave yourself, you'll go without dinner tonight."
"Like hell you can put me in timeout!" I shout, my anger flaring. He stops and fixes me with a steely gaze.
"Trust me, when you act like a child, I absolutely can." With that, he slams the door shut, cutting off any further retorts.
"Asshole!" I scream, running after him, fully intending to throw the door open and continue yelling at him. But when I grab the handle, it refuses to budge. Panic rises in my chest as I pound on the door, but his footsteps recede down the hallway, leaving me alone.
Finally, my strength gives out and I collapse onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. My frustration and helplessness are overwhelming, and I feel as if I'm drowning in my own emotions.
When I finally manage to pick myself up, I wipe away the last of my tears and take a deep breath. Maybe I shouldn't have picked a fight with him. But how could I not? His apathy is infuriating, and all I want is some semblance of control over my own life.
I slip out of my ruined dress, looking at it sadly. It was beautiful and now it's marred by grease and grime. I hope that it can be salvaged. With a heavy heart, I make my way to the bathroom and run myself a large bath. As I sink into the warm water, my thoughts drift to Giovanni.
He had been so nice this afternoon at the office. He had shown a side of himself that I hadn't seen before, and I was beginning to respect him just a little bit. The people who work for him clearly do. But tonight's fight has solidified my resolve – I can't stay here. I need to use the opportunity at the office to find out whatever I can about him and escape this gilded prison.
As I soak in the tub, my mind races with plans and schemes. I have to be smart, cunning, and resourceful if I want to outmaneuver Giovanni Maldonado.
I step out of the tub, water dripping off my body as I reach for a towel. My stomach grumbles loudly, reminding me that I haven't eaten dinner. The anger resurfaces, but I force it down, knowing I need to focus on finding an opportunity tomorrow. Wrapping the towel around myself, I head to my bedroom and slip into a pair of cozy pajamas. Exhausted, I crawl into bed and fall into a fitful sleep.
In the middle of the night, I awaken with my stomach growling louder than ever. With desperation clawing at my insides, I get up and try the door again. To my surprise, it unlocks with a soft click. I tiptoe outside, half-expecting one of Giovanni's goons to be standing guard, maybe Totò, but the hallway is empty. A bag labeled "dry cleaning" hangs on the door handle – a clear sign that Giovanni anticipated my eventual escape from the room. Retrieving my dress and placing it inside the bag, I make my way to the kitchen, still feeling nervous about being out of my room since the door had been locked earlier. But I need food.
As I enter the kitchen, I find Giovanni's younger brother Teddy there. He looks utterly exhausted, his blonde hair sticking to his forehead and his blue eyes glazed over as he listens to music on an old Walkman. I'm nervous to be seen in just my casual clothes, but something about Teddy's presence makes me feel at ease.
"Hey," he says, removing his headphones and offering me a warm smile. "How are you doing?"
"Terrible," I reply honestly, watching his concern grow genuine. "I'm tired of being locked up in this mansion and your older brother is an asshole."
"Primo can be, yeah," Teddy admits with a small chuckle.
"No, not Primo. Giovanni." His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he thinks about it for a moment and nods.
"Ah, yeah. I guess they all sort of are," he laughs, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. As we chat, the conversation flows with surprising ease – Teddy feels like the best friend I never had when I was younger.
"Look, I'll tell you how I've always managed to deal with my brothers," he says.
"Yeah? How's that?"
"I ignore them. Everything they say. In one ear, out the other."
I laugh. "They must get pretty irritated with you, then."
He shrugs. "Actually, you'd be surprised. They often vent to me about stuff. Maybe they know it's because I'm not really listening, so I'm a safe person."
