Chapter 5

Anna’s eyes widened—a wave of shock and fear hit her. Then he chuckled. Right, he was messing with her.

“We have quality fertilizers back in my hometown in Russia. They do drop shipments,” Anna glared at him.

“They do?” He feigned ignorance. “In my opinion, the human body is the best source of manure. The flesh and bones secrete enzymes during decay that facilitate growth two times faster.”

Now that she looked deep into his eyes, she saw an insane amount of madness in them. Crazy how he fluctuated from calm and collected to a psychopathic lunatic.

“I won’t tell anyone about what I saw,” Anna gulped, staring at him.

“You think I don’t know that?” He scoffed. “But I can’t count on the fact our little runaway bride here wouldn’t tattletale once she falls in love with my brother or gets too… comfortable,” he drawled.

Anna never harbored the thought of actually poisoning anyone. This man standing in front of her made her rethink. Not to mention, he had seen her slipping off with a bag, ready to go, and dressed in rags.

“Keep my little secret and I’ll keep yours. It’s a sane deal.”

He was about to say something more when they began hearing voices from outside.

“Merda,” he cursed in Italian. That was right, she had forgotten that she wasn’t supposed to be alone in a room with him—she was going to get married to his brother. Her body tensed.

Leone walked toward a door that led to the balcony. The wind tousled his jet-black hair. “For your own safety, I hope you keep to your words, little girl.” And just like that, in plain broad daylight, he jumped down the railing.

Her heart caught in her throat. Hopefully he died. Anna shut the doors.

………

Days flew by like the wind. She sat at the dining hall with the Don and Domenico.

“The maids tell me you often refuse their assistance, Anna. Is there a problem?” Enzo subtly asked.

Anna tightened her grip on her fork. She hadn’t seen any problem with refusing their help. The Don’s shrewd eyes stared at hers, reading every flicker of emotion that passed through her face.

“There’s no problem at all. I just feel—”

“Very well then,” he abruptly cut her off. “I feel the maids should be allowed to do their work.”

His words held finality—no room for refusal. She ate the rest of her meal in silence.

She began heading to her room when she felt someone pull her to a corner—Domenico. It was the first time he bothered to converse with her since she came.

The look in his eyes held impatience, as though being with her was a complete waste of his time. “I’ll be traveling to New York on a business trip,” his voice was cold and detached.

Good riddance, Anna inwardly sighed in relief.

“This means I’ll have to bed you before I leave—tomorrow night, precisely.” No emotion flickered in his eyes as he said it, like it was a task for him, like stacking books on a rack.

She had never even kissed Rocco—just hugs, and that was it. And now… this was going to happen with someone without even a shred of empathy for her.

………

That night, Anna paced nervously in her room. Even the mere thought of what was going to happen the following night repulsed her.

She couldn’t see herself in the act with him. She couldn’t do this. The thought made her skin crawl, and a tear slipped out of her eyes. What was she going to do now? Taken by a man with severe anger issues? One who could hit her if she didn’t oblige him?

Sleep felt like an impossible task for her. Then she left her room, took a walk down the hallway, only to stumble upon the butler.

“Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Anna?” he asked.

Yes. A gun to blow her brains out, or better yet, a rope to hang herself.

“A bottle of bourbon, please,” she said instead.

“As you wish,” he bowed politely and turned to leave when she stopped him.

“I would like to go with you.”

The butler’s face was marred with confusion, but he could only nod. Then she followed him to the cellar.

He picked the glass of bourbon she had requested. “Thank you,” Anna smiled—one that didn’t reach her eyes. “You can leave.”

The butler left her there alone. Having served her father’s guests all her life, she easily opened the bottle and poured herself a drink.

She drank the first glass. And the next. An hour later, she found herself staggering in the hallway—her head spun, and she felt extremely hot.

She turned the door handle and dragged herself to a room she believed was hers. Then she shut the door with a loud bang.

Her eyes took in the room: gray walls, gray and red furniture—like she had stumbled upon the devil’s bedroom.

Anna couldn’t figure out why her room suddenly looked different, but she was too drunk to care. She felt extremely hot, like she was being engulfed in flames.

She discarded every piece of clothing she had on, one after the other, leaving them on the floor. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back, reaching her waist.

She slowly made her way to the bathroom and stepped into the tub. At this point, she was ready to drown herself if that was all it took to subside the heat she felt.

She turned the faucet on, sighing once the cold water came in contact with her skin. She detached it and held it right in front of her face, smiling at the coolness that followed.

And then the doors suddenly slammed open. Anna turned in shock. The alcohol instantly cleared from her system. The faucet slipped from her hands with a loud clatter as her eyes took in the figure standing in front of her.