Sold to Mr. Giordano

Arielle

Loud bangs came from downstairs. I check the clock on my bedside; three-forty in the morning. It doesn’t sound like gunshots, more like furniture being thrown around. I grab my robe and sneak my way downstairs to see what the commotion is about.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

I spot Antonio in a fit of rage growling and smashing things with what looks like a broken broomstick. His veins are bulging out of his muscles and his chest is rising in fast shallow breaths.

“Antonio!” I trudge down the steps and toward him.

He’s so blinded by fury he doesn’t even hear me.

“Antonio! Stop! You’re destroying the place!” I reach out to tap on his shoulder.

Before I can process what happened, he has me pinned to the ground. His chest is heaving and his eyes are dark and dilated. He drops his head to my shoulder and inhales. His hands have my wrists pinned over my head leaving me completely helpless, he lowers his body and I can feel his erection rub against my thigh. Soft lips touch my neck and I begin to squirm under his weight.

“Stop,” I say forcefully. My body tenses as a result of being terrified.

He doesn’t stop, in fact it only seems to provoke him more. His tongue runs up the column of the throat causing me to shiver. He uses one hand to pin both of mine and his now free hand snakes between our body and to my thigh. From there his big, calloused hand goes up my thigh, under my robe and towards my cotton underwear.

“Stop!” I shout louder. It’s like he doesn’t even hear me. His eyes are glazed over and he appears to be a lust filled fog. I wish I could smack him out of him. His finger crooks against my underwear and he begins to rub. I inhale a sharp breath and begin to panic.

Suddenly, he becomes rough no longer touching me, but now trying to free himself of his suit pants. I hear the zipper and begin to fight with all my might. He’s far too strong to remove him, no matter how hard I try it’s no good.

He relents for just a moment and I see it as my opportunity to knee him in the balls. He rolls off me and doubles to the floor to coughs. He cups himself and groans. “What the fuck,” he says breathlessly.

“That’s what I should be saying! What the… what the heck, Antonio!” My father forbids me to swear back when I lived under his household. I guess old habits never really die.

“Fuck, Arielle. What happened?” His eyes are once again hazel, and his blank fear is now masked with pain.

“You tried to rape me that’s what happened!” It could’ve been so easy to kick him while he’s down.

“Just get away from me, go in your room and lock the door.”

“No, I want an—”

“Jesus Christ, go to your fucking room, Arielle!” He shouts and Carmelo comes down the stairs. “Take her to her room and make sure she doesn’t leave it until morning.”

Carmelo picks me up and puts me over his shoulder—like he has done before—and carries me upstairs.

“I can walk you know,” I growl and punch at his back. “What is going on, why was he acting like that?”

“Capo has seen some dark stuff, that’ll do something to a man.”

“It’ll leave you heartless,” I murmur under my breath and Carmelo says nothing in response on the way back to my bedroom.

That night is sleepless, I can’t get the look of his dark eyes out of my head. The way his body moved against and how I actually felt heat between my eyes and the evidence of my arousal made my panties stick to me. I wanted him—I actually wanted him, but he scared the crap out of me. He was rough, where I want gentle and I fear it’ll always be like that. Antonio will dominate me every night, no sweet kisses, no words of love whispered in my ears, no happily ever after like you read in the fairy-tales. Just a marriage where I’ll only see him at night, where he will force sex, and the only reason for our union is political and for the conception of heirs I will be forced to bare for him.

I weep into my pillow and wonder if Arabella cried herself to sleep earlier. I also start to wonder who will be worse husband, Luca or Antonio?