The Price of Disobedience

"Leon...ardo," she whispered, desperation tightening her voice. She clawed at his hands, nails digging into his skin.

"You are mine, Anna. Mine to crush. Mine to ruin. Mine only!" he snarled, his grip on her neck tightening with every word.

"Please..." she gasped, tears streaking down her cheeks.

Something in her voice cracked him. His eyes softened just slightly as her tears met his gaze. Then, as if yanked back to reality, he released her. He stumbled back and collapsed to the floor, his chest heaving, tears slipping from his eyes

Her breath hitched. Tears spilled over.

“Please—”

He growled and yanked her closer, his forehead pressing against hers, their mouths barely apart.

“You let him kiss you while I was on the phone.”

“He—he forced me—”

“You moaned for him.”

She shook her head violently. “No. No, I didn’t want it—he just—he took control, Leo, I swear—”

“You didn’t hang up.”

“I was scared!”

He let go. Just like that. Released her neck, and she collapsed forward into his chest, coughing, gasping for air.

He didn’t touch her.

Just stood.

Still.

Empty.

"I'm scared, Anna... I'm scared you'll leave me for him," he choked out, voice raw, broken. She sat up slowly, her hand massaging her reddened neck.

"Who is he?" he asked, quieter now, fragile. She hiccupped and inched away from him.

"I... I..." she stammered, unable to meet his eyes.

"Fucking answer me!" he roared, his voice cracking like a whip.

"Aless...andro," she whispered.

He froze.

"Alessandro, which one?" His tone turned razor-sharp.

"Alessandro Esposito," she said.

Silence.

Leo’s eyes widened. He stood slowly, laughing—dry, bitter. He dragged a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Alessandro Esposito? You married him? You're sleeping under the same roof with that bastard?" His glare cut through her as he grabbed her roughly by the arm, dragging her upright.

Why did the mention of Alessandro flare such rage in him? Her mind spun.

"Tell me—what did he do to you? Did he kiss you? Did he touch you? Did he fuck you?" His hand clamped around her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his.

"Nothing... he did nothing," she cried, voice barely a whisper.

Leo let go, turning his face away.

"Leave," he snapped, wiping the tears from his cheek.

But she didn’t move.

She stood, trembling, eyes locked on him. He looked so hollow, like the light inside him had died. Leo had never been like this. She couldn’t leave him like this—broken, angry, alone.

"I said leave. Get out!" he barked.

Instead, she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. She tilted her face up and pressed her lips to his. He stiffened, ready to push her away—but she clung tighter, sucking gently on his lower lip.

His restraint shattered.

He slammed her back against the wall, lips crashing into hers. Their tongues tangled, breath stolen, bodies flushed with heat and rage. He lifted her, and her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. He carried her to the couch and dropped her roughly onto it.

His hands were rough, his touch fueled by fury, not tenderness. He wasn’t making love—he was unraveling.

"Leo... stop," Anna groaned as he bit down hard on her lip. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.

She struggled to push him off, but he pinned her arms above her head with a brutal grip. His hands roamed under her top, squeezing her roughly.

"Leonardo!" she screamed—but he didn’t hear her.

Regret slammed into her. She should have left when she had the chance. Now she was trapped beneath a man driven by jealousy and fear.

"Please stop!" she cried, tears spilling as he bit her again, harder. The pain ripped through her, and she shoved him with all her strength.

He fell to the floor with a grunt.

Anna didn’t wait. She grabbed her bag and ran, ignoring his calls. She slammed the door behind her and fled into the night.

---

10:00 p.m.

The taxi's interior wrapped her in silence. Her sobs echoed faintly against the windows. Rain pelted the glass, blurring the city lights into a watery haze.

The driver glanced back but didn’t speak. He gave her space to fall apart.

When the cab stopped, he looked at her in the mirror and smiled gently.

"It’s raining heavy. Need an umbrella?"

"Thank you, sir. I’m fine," she whispered and stepped out into the storm.

Water soaked her instantly, but she didn’t care. Her soul was already drowning.

She dragged herself through the estate gates, shivering. Then she froze.

In the courtyard, her guards were on the ground—doing push-ups in the pouring rain. Soaked, silent, relentless.

"One hundred sixty-two... one hundred sixty-three..."

Her eyes locked with Marco's. He gave her a smile that said, Don’t worry about us.

But her stomach twisted. They were being punished. For her.

"Stop! Stop doing it!" she yelled. But the rain swallowed her voice.

She ran to Marco, tried pulling him up—but he didn’t move.

"I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!" she cried, and ran toward Alessandro’s wing.

---

"Sandro!"

She burst through the door, soaked to the bone, trembling.

He was in his armchair, calmly smoking a cigar. His face was unreadable. Cold. Detached.

"Please," her voice cracked. "They’re being punished for me—please let them go!"

His eyes slowly shifted to her. He took another drag from the cigar and rose, taking measured steps toward her.

"Should I punish you instead?" he asked, voice smooth as silk.

She nodded, trembling.

"If I punish you, kitten, you might not walk for three weeks... should I?" His eyes trailed to the bruises on her neck.

She backed away.

"Please... let them go."

He turned to the window, watching the guards still doing push-ups. His eyes sparkled with dark amusement.

"You’ll catch a cold. Retire to your room."

"It’s my fault! Don’t punish them!" she snapped.

He turned slowly, his gaze burning through her. She stood frozen as he approached.

"It’s their job to keep you in check. They failed," he said simply. "Go. You might want ointment for that neck—it’s far too red."

He turned back to the window.

Anna knew then: no amount of pleading would move him.

She ran back outside. The guards were still counting.

Without hesitation, she knelt beside them. Rain drenched her again, cold biting her skin. But she didn’t care. The guards were surprised, but they kept going.

From his window, Alessandro watched. He pulled the curtain closed with a smirk and lay on his bed.

"Stubborn kitten," he muttered, placing headphones over his ears.

"Two hundred eleven... two hundred twelve..."

Their voices blurred. Anna’s limbs went numb. Her heart ached. Her vision dimmed. The cold became unbearable.

She didn’t notice the man until strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her gently. She caught a glimpse of his neck, warm against her cheek.

"Leave," a voice commanded, just before the door closed behind them.