He shoves me back down on the sofa and I land with a heavy oomph.
The maid picks back up where she started, as if nothing even happened.
“This changes nothing. Be at dinner and in the galería afterwards.” He storms away without another word.
I watch him go, and then my gaze travels down to the maid. She merely shakes her head, picking up a cotton swab and swiping my upper lip with it. She’s probably thinking I’m the dumbest bitch alive right now, and she’s probably right.
But at least I tried to get out of this hellhole.
I could have gotten away with it too if that fat ass slob hadn’t shown up. Why the hell was he here anyway?
But furthermore, why hasn’t Draco punished me firsthand for this? What the hell is he waiting for? And why do I care?
None of Draco’s men show up for dinner. It’s only his mother, Francesca, him, and me. Francesca has gotten her spot back beside him, and I couldn’t give a shit less. She’s way too happy about it.
She eats with her head held high, smiling at Draco whenever he says something in Spanish to his mother.
He hasn’t spoken a lick of English since we started eating. He’s doing it on purpose. He’s trying to make me feel excluded. I honestly don’t care. If he’s caught on to me by now, he knows I understand everything they’re saying. He’s just trying to make Francesca feel special tonight—make me look like a discarded toy for now.
His mom has been glancing at me every so often. She’s worried. I guess I can understand why. After having to get my upper lip stitched without anything to numb it (and trust me, it hurt like a bitch), I went up to take a shower. Before I got into the shower, I stared at my reflection.
The stitches are right beneath my shattered nose. Draco put it back into place perfectly. I can barely tell there’s been damage. It took nearly thirty minutes for it to stop bleeding though.
I don’t look completely hideous—I still look like me—minus the stitches and the huge bruise on my forehead. I’ve covered that bruise with my hair, though.
After dinner is wrapped up, Draco commands me to follow him. Francesca watches us go, sulking in her seat. I don’t understand her. Shouldn’t she know by now that I’m not enjoying any of this?
“I don’t want to go,” I call after him, trailing behind.
He glances over his shoulder. When he sees that I’ve stopped, he comes back with measured steps, walks behind me, and presses his fingertips into my upper back, lightly booting me forward.
“Shut up and keep walking,” he demands from behind me.
I scuffle ahead, giving him a sideways glance. It’s quiet between us again. Unease sweeps through me when we meet up to the door. I know what this galería means.
This is his inside dungeon.
This is where he destroys his toys.
His pets, rather.
He casually strolls in and steps aside, allowing me to walk ahead of him. When I’ve stepped in enough, he shuts the door and then walks around me, focused on one of the paintings on the wall.
“I have to say, Gianna,” he sighs, unbuttoning his blue shirt. I swallow thickly as he slides out of it. “I’m very disappointed in your behavior today.” When the shirt hits the floor, his hard muscles ripple smoothly from the dim lights.
And when he turns around to face me, I finally get the chance to see what’s beneath the layers.
His body is toned and cut. His skin looks smooth to the touch, hard in all the right places. It seems he works out to keep in such great shape, but when the hell does he have the time?
He comes to me, his actions fluid beneath the dim lighting. When he’s up close, he grips the front of my button-up red blouse and yanks it apart roughly. The buttons fly across the floor, and when my shirt flies open I throw my hands up to cover myself.
He yanks my arms down just as quickly as I brought them up.
“I gave you flowers and a day at the beach. I let you sit alone, hoping I could trust you not to do anything stupid. Because I know you are not a stupid girl, Gianna.”
I avoid his eyes as he walks around me, studying my cleavage when he’s in front of me again. Reaching around, he unlatches the bra, and I feel his breath run down the bend of my neck.
I can smell his cologne again. It smells expensive…and good. Ugh.
When the nude bra falls down, something inside me also collapses. Not this again. God, what will he do now?
“You’re wondering what’s in store…” His lips skim the shell of my ear. “How I will punish you for being so goddamn disobedient.” His hand wraps around my wrist and he hauls me into him.