LOGINViola gasped, a sharp jolt of pain shooting up her leg. Tears instantly sprang to her eyes. She bit her lower lip so hard she tasted copper, fighting the urge to cry out. "I wasn't asking," Giovanni whispered against her ear, his grip tightening. Terrified, Viola snatched the heavy glass from his other hand. Her fingers shook so violently the liquid splashed over the rim. She brought it to her lips and swallowed a huge mouthful of the alcohol. The liquor burned like actual fire, scorching her throat and settling into her empty stomach with a heavy, sickening heat. She coughed, gasping for air as the cheap burn brought fresh tears to her eyes. The entire table erupted into mocking laughter again. Giovanni finally let go of her thigh, looking incredibly pleased with himself. "Good girl." The alcohol hit her bloodstream fast. Viola hadn't eaten since the morning. Within ten minutes, the flashing strobe lights of the club began to blur, and a heavy, dizzying fog started to pull at th
The deafening bass of the club vibrated straight through Viola’s thin heels and into her bones.She stood paralyzed at the edge of the VVIP booth. Giovanni Belladonna stared at her through the haze of cigar smoke, his creeping green eyes slowly taking in the short, tight black dress her mother had forced her to wear.A slow, terrifying smile spread across his face. He patted the empty space on the leather sofa directly beside him."Come sit," he ordered smoothly.Viola’s legs felt like heavy lead. Every instinct in her body screamed to run back down the glass stairs, but she forced herself forward, taking a stiff seat beside him. She kept as much distance as she could, her knees pressed tightly together, her hands gripping her own thighs to stop them from shaking.Giovanni leaned in closer. The strong smell of alcohol and smoke rolled off him."You look beautiful tonight," he murmured, his voice dropping low enough that only she could hear it over the music. His eyes slowly dragged do
Viola stood frozen in the archway of the living room.A maid hurried past and took the heavy garment bag from her stiff fingers, but Viola barely noticed. Her attention was locked on the velvet sofa.Giovanni Belladonna took a slow sip of his wine. His dead, creeping green eyes dragged over her messy hair, her pale face, and the faded gray dress hanging off her shoulders.Her mother was sitting across from him. Octavia had a bright, sickeningly sweet smile on her face—a smile Viola rarely ever saw."Viola," her mother said, her tone dripping with fake warmth. "Come here. Your fiancé was just asking for you."Viola’s legs felt like lead. She forced her feet to move, taking slow, stiff steps into the room until she was standing near her mother’s chair. She kept her eyes on the floor.Giovanni set his wine glass on the table and stood up. He walked toward her, stopping just a fraction too close. Viola had to fight the overwhelming urge to take a step back."My father is speaking with Raf
The afternoon sun beat down on her as she navigated the busy city sidewalks. The dress bag was heavy and awkward, bumping against her legs with every step. But as she walked, the physical exhaustion faded into a quiet, heavy loneliness.She passed by a group of college students—girls laughing loudly with their friends, boys carrying heavy backpacks. Viola watched them, her violet eyes filled with quiet longing. She had been homeschooled her entire life, kept locked away in the estate while Vanessa got to go to school, make friends, and live normally. What did it feel like to just laugh on the sidewalk with a friend?She shook her head, forcing her eyes back to the pavement. It didn't matter. She was getting married to Giovanni Belladonna. She was already living in a quiet kind of hell in her stepfather's house, but she knew deep down that after marrying that man... she was not going to survive. She wouldn't survive him.Her mind drifted to the morning before. Sebastian’s words echoed
The next day passed in a strange, quiet blur.After breakfast, Sebastian left the estate and did not return. Viola had expected to spend the day terrified in his private suite, but without him there, she had nothing to do. The silence of his massive rooms eventually drove her back downstairs to the familiar chaos of the kitchen.She spent the afternoon helping Rosita bake bread. The warm smell of yeast and flour was the only thing in the house that actually calmed her nerves."Viola."A young maid tapped her on the shoulder. "Miss Vanessa has called for you. She is in her room."Viola wiped the flour from her hands, a knot immediately forming in her stomach. Vanessa never called for her unless she wanted something unpleasant.She walked up to her sister's room and raised her hand, knocking softly before pushing the heavy door open.Vanessa was lounging on a plush velvet chair, watching a maid carefully paint her toenails a bright, glossy red. The second Vanessa saw Viola walk in, she
Sebastian studied her. He took in her trembling hands and the way the cheap dress hung off her thin frame. "You look like you are going to faint," he said. "Sit." Viola quickly shook her head. "No, I'm okay. Please, have your breakfast. I am sorry again." She gave a small, nervous bow, preparing to step back and leave. Sebastian closed his eyes. He took a slow, deep breath. He was a man who never repeated his words for anyone. People listened the first time. Yet, he opened his amber eyes, looking at her stubborn fear, and forced the irritation down. "Sit," he commanded, his voice dropping lower. She didn't have a choice. Her legs were shaking too badly to argue. She slowly lowered herself onto the edge of the armchair across from him, perching nervously on the cushion. Sebastian picked up his coffee. The silence stretched between them as he took a sip. Viola sat there, her heart hammering against her ribs. Every instinct told her to keep quiet, but the memory of sitting in that
Giovanni.A sickening jolt of terror hit Viola’s chest. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her face harder into Sebastian’s bare chest, her grip on his shirt turning entirely frantic."Please," she whispered weakly, her body trembling against his. "Don't let him—"She couldn't even finish the s
The cold air in the west wing corridor hit Viola’s flushed skin like ice. She slumped against the marble wall, her chest pulling in shallow, uneven breaths. The gold lights from the distant ballroom blurred at the edges of her vision, but the man blocking her path remained entirely in focus.Sebast
Viola looked up. A tall, handsome man in his early thirties was standing in her path. He wore a tailored navy suit, and his deep green eyes studied her with a calculating curiosity that instantly made her skin crawl."I—I'm..." Viola stuttered, her mind entirely blank as a fresh wave of
The fever had settled deep into her bones long before the sun went down. Viola sat shivering on the edge of her mattress, her entire body burning with a dry, suffocating heat from the freezing rain the day before. Her head throbbed with a dull, heavy ache, and every breath she drew felt like swall







