Chapter Twelve

Adriana’s POV

Now I understand why people in psychiatrist hospitals found it sickening to be cooped up in a room for a long period of time. The fact that it only made them crazier related to my present situation so much that I could almost imagine myself clad in their shabby garments.

I could almost think that I was fast turning into a psycho because these days, my routine was basically the same. I'd wake up, sit and stare, and then begin to think of the different ways I could give Massimo a painful but slow death.

I only get food if he's in a good mood, and if he's in the best of moods, I get to eat twice.

Right now, he was in my room and it seemed like he was in a good mood today. In fact, he had been in a good mood for most of the week as he hadn't even made me dance for him since the week began; moreover his look was different.

It was less scornful and it was lighter.

He simply sat and watched me from the couch, with a wine glass in his hands and a very heavy look in his eyes.