(Emily's POV)I was woken up by a tap on my arm, I yawned and shielded my eyes cause of the light coming in through the windows. The tap on my arm continued, and I could hear Leila's voice calling my name as I slowly regained consciousness."Good morning, Miss," Leila said, smiling at me.I did my normal yawning and moaning waking-up routine until finally, I was fully awake, I rubs my eyes to fully see Leila beside the bed wearing a satisfying look. She has a vacuum in her left hand. She must be cleaning now. "Hey, Leila." I greeted sitting up on the bed.She smile and continue what she was doing. I can't go back to sleep with the noise created by the vacuum. So I remain to stare at Leila, cleaning the whole room while being sore down there.I felt a sting in my ankle. When I raise my blanket, I'm not shocked to see my ankle tied with tape. He let go of my hand but he still tied my ankle. That mean jerk!It's morning but I feel wasted already. Who would not get tired from the last ni
(Emily's POV)The sound of the door creek woke me up. I was quick to rub my eyes and sit up. Fears run through my skin. However, he came inside with a normal aura."Good morning." he said while holding a plate "I made you some breakfast, hopefully, you're feeling better," he said, casually.He has the guts to make breakfast while here I am, putting me into prison. It was so hard reading his face, his wearing a hat as the light was not on, and made it impossible to understand him. I never know if he's smiling or frowning.I did not respond. He would not listen to my side though. He's even said I would feel better, how can I with this tape, the locked door, being a prisoner at his place? Will he feel better if he were me? No one wanted this kind of life. I bet he will lock me in here for the rest of my life, waiting for my Shrek to save this princess Fiona from this dungeon full of dragons and demons.He grabbed the stool in the corner and sat down, still with the plate in his hands. M
(Emily's POV)I hate to say this but I really need to pee. I can't hold it in much longer. Swallowing my pride, I stood up and walked to the bucket. It was a dark blue plastic bucket, the one you use to clean the floors with.I pulled down my panties and bent my knees, careful not to touch the bucket. I did my business and then pulled my panties back up. He still hadn't gotten me toilet paper as he promised.I came back to the bed and stare at the food on the bedside table. As I was starving to death, I reached out the tray of food and eat the breakfast that Dimitri prepared. The breakfast was good though. As I finished, I grabbed a water bottle and took a few sips.The claustrophobia was quick to get me, as I scanned the whole room, and it made me realize how gorgeous this room is. The pinkish-beige walls of the classic-style bedroom are decorated with great grace, and luxurious wallpaper with silk-screen printing with light furniture and textiles create a muted home atmosphere. A co
(Emily's POV)Tap. Tap. Tap.It is snowing.I sat on the window seat, tapping my finger on the cold glass while trying to get the one lone rabbit in the wasteland of snow's attention. He'd become my friend in the past four days. The four days I'd spent locked in this room. The day I arrived here in Italy.A middle-aged woman, owner of a tight bun, permanent scowl, and, apparently, one medieval black dress, delivered my meals three times daily. "You can call me Alya. I am the housekeeper here. I do not like messes," was how she introduced herself.Where's Leila?I didn't respond, preoccupied with the perpetually locked door that finally lay open. I'd stepped toward it but froze when I saw a man standing in the hall, with an assault rifle held across his chest. I imagined if I ran, a spray of bullets would follow behind me. Which is more terrifying?From what I saw from the fixed bay window, I was on the second story of a remote mansion. Large and built of stone, with nothing but trees
(Dimitri's POV)Sweat and animosity cloaked the dining room, though it remained silent enough to hear a pin drop or just the scrape of my fork.This wasn't a usual dinner for me, and it wasn't due to the presence of two men, whose bruised bodies and egos were bound to their chairs, but because I preferred to eat supper at eight.Marina swept in to grab my finished plate, dressed in her nightgown, a frilly sleep cap placed on her head. Curiosity pulled her out of bed no doubt, rather than a desire to serve me herself, gossiping and cooking were two of her finest talents. It was the latter that made her become the only woman I considered marrying, regardless if she was twenty years my senior and probably weighed more than me. My parents taught me to enjoy a meal more than most. They taught me Deeply sighing as I took a glance at the woman beside me when Marina continued to stand there and stare at my guests, I told her in Italian, "Questo è tutto.”(That will be all)She practically ju
(Dimitri's POV)"Don't get too excited, wife," I drawled. "Want me to kill him in front of you?"Her lips parted, the grip on my hand eased, and she took in Tan and the scene more thoroughly now, from his bound wrists to the man beside him, to the revolver that sat on the table. I caressed her soft thigh with my thumb. "No better time for a second thought, don't you think?" She swallowed, and, in unveiled aversion toward my dinner party, she said, "A funeral would be a better time than this." A smile touched my lips. "As you can see, we're still working on my wife's manners."Emily either didn't like the degrading nickname or her manners being criticized because her nails pressed into my hand, leaving little crescent moons behind, if not blood. Her hair was in my face, curly, untamed, and exuding a faint summery scent. While I would usually be annoyed with a resentful woman on my lap who smelled like innocence and sunshine, I wasn't there yet."Do you remember what I said to you du
(Emily's POV)I came to my sense when an awful smoke trespassed on my nostrils, causing me to frown at the odd smell.W-What the hell happened?The first thing I saw when I woke up was Dimitri with his beloved cigarette, biting on his perfectly clean white teeth, then to the man on the floor, bath in his own blood and as soon as I saw the hole in his forehead where the blood was getting through, I cover my mouth in disgust and closed my eyes as I was nearly puked by the sightings."Vuoi un po' di torta, mogliettina?"(You want some cake, wifey?)My attention was switched to Dimitri. I don't know what that f*king means but as soon as I saw the cake with toppings of splattered blood, joining the sliced strawberry peacefully sitting on the top of the cake, I immediately rushed to one of his potted plants and released the contents of my stomach.H-How can he shoot him in front of me, again!!!I heard him chuckle while I was busy releasing everything I ate this day."This is the third time
(Emily's POV)Head resting against the window. I stared past the spider webs willingly on the glass. Moonlight cast a blanket of silver over the snow, and the frozen wasteland glittered like diamonds.From my vantage point, it felt like I was a princess locked in a tower. Held captive by a monster who shot men in the head at a dining table set with crystal glasses and cake.I'd tried making tallies on the bathroom mirror with an old tube of lipstick I found, which had probably been left by Dimitri's last prisoner, and I was now at seven days.A full week in hell.The door opened, and a chill coasted through me as Dimitri's shadow spread wings across the floor. He pulled the stool beside the mattress and stare at me for quite a while. I just avoided his gaze and forget that he was not around.He just came here to piss me off again.After minutes, I heard him clear his throat and deep sigh as the chair created a sound from the floor, his footsteps resonated in my ear, and he is walking