Chapter 4 - The Heated Breakfast

Elena

“So, tell me, Elena. What do you feel like? Now that you are a part of the Moretti family.”

Lucia Moretti’s voice broke the silence of the dining hall like a perfectly sharpened blade. I looked up from my barely touched toast to find her sitting gracefully without any flaw, sipping her tea with a gaze that could cut diamonds. The table between us was too big and the silence was too dangerous.

What do I feel like?

Angry. Frustrated. Irritated. And incredibly horny, I wanted to scream but I didn’t.

I straightened my back, feeling conscious and corrected my expression, forcing a pleasant smile to my lips.

“Everything is very new to me,” I said with a very careful tone, “but I will adapt quickly. The sooner I learn, the better it will be. It’s definitely overwhelming but I don’t mind challenges.”

Lucia’s expression barely changed but I saw a glimpse of approval in her eyes. She was sharp, elegant and terrifyingly unreadable just like Dominic. Now, I know where he got his features from!

She hadn’t smiled even once at me since the wedding. No warm hugs. No motherly welcome. Just silent observation.

She was beautiful but merciless.

“It’s good that you are aware of what to do.” She said, “The Moretti name comes with expectations. I hope you’re prepared.”

“I will not disappoint you, mother.” I answered softly.

Lucia nodded at me with her lips curled up into a tiny smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Before I could start breathing normally again, the door to the dining hall opened and someone filled with elegance and ego walked in with confidence, not like a nervous wreck like me.

“Darling Elena,” Chiara walked in like a runway model. She was dressed in a white jumpsuit with gold detailings and heels that clicked hard against the marble. She was a vision of rich privilege and subtle venom.

Wife of Luca Moretti—Dominic’s younger brother—and the unofficial queen bee of the Moretti wives.

“I didn’t expect you to be up this early,” she added with a warm and syrupy sweet tone. “I assumed you would be recovering.”

Recovering?

I blinked, my mind stumbling just before catching the innuendo. Of course. Of course she went there.

“Why would I need to recover from sleeping in a comfortable bed?” I replied, offering her a smile so sweet it might’ve caused cavities.

Chiara’s lashes fluttered with fake innocence. “Oh, no reason. It’s just... from what I have heard, Dominic isn’t exactly gentle.”

She said it like it was a compliment but the hidden motive behind that was sharp and deliberate.

Lucia didn’t comment, she simply sipped her tea and observed like a queen watching an interesting soccer match. This was a test. Everything in this house was a test.

“Gentlemen don’t need to be,” I said smoothly, slicing into my toast with enough grace to draw blood.

Chiara’s jaw twitched. Barely. But I saw it. That one second of lost control. She sat beside Lucia and reached for her tea like she hadn’t just tried to humiliate me in front of her mother-in-law.

“You’re bold and refreshing, I suppose,” Chiara said, voice light, eyes hard.

“So I’ve been told. Though it’s only bold if the woman speaking isn’t expected to have a voice,” I said, arching one brow.

Lucia chuckled quietly. Victory. Small, but I’d take it.

“You’re a quick learner,” Lucia remarked.

“Thank you. I’ve had good teachers.”

Chiara rolled her eyes so hard I almost heard them creak. But she kept smiling. So did I.

“Lunch tomorrow is with the Deluccis,” Lucia said, setting down her cup. “It’s business. Dominic and Luca will handle most of it, but you should attend. First impressions matter.”

“I will be there.”

“If you don’t have anything appropriate to wear,” Chiara said, flipping her hair over her shoulder, “we can go shopping later. I know you come from... a very small family.”

Bitch.

“She’s right,” Lucia added. “Wear something red. Something that’ll turn heads. Dominic should never be disappointed.”

They stood up and left without giving me another glance, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a burning desire to set something on fire.

I stabbed my eggs harder than necessary.

Disappointed? I wanted to scream at the door. Your son left me writhing and wet, craving a release he deliberately denied me! Maybe he should be worried about disappointing me!

But I didn’t scream.

I just fumed silently—until a warm breath whispered against my ear.

“Good morning, wife.”

I gasped, nearly flinging my fork, only to hear a deep, satisfied chuckle.

Dominic.

The devil himself.

He moved around the table and sat in the seat directly across from me, sitting like he owned the entire damn world. His white shirt was clinging to him in all the right places, sleeves were rolled up, hair was tousled like he had just rolled out of bed and left destruction behind.

Which he probably had.

“Good morning.” I wished with a calm voice.

He didn’t answer, instead just leaned back in his chair and started watching me like a predator. He started dragging his thumb across his lower lip while his eyes moved all over me slowly, from my freshly brushed hair to the deep neckline of my yellow sundress.

I felt the heat of his stare going down from my cheeks, to my neck then to my spine and finally resting between my thighs.

He smirked barely.

“You are glowing,” he said finally with a low and amused voice.

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Did you cum after I left last night?”

I choked—literally. Coffee shot from my mouth as I coughed uncontrollably, my face flaming red while he just sipped his espresso like he hadn’t just set fire to the room.

“I—what?”

He set his cup down calmly. “It’s a fair question. You looked… hungry last night.”

“You are insane,” I muttered, wiping my lips.

“Did I say anything wrong?” He asked with mischief.

He moved his head back and started studying me like I was a science experiment. “You moan like a woman who needs to cum. Desperately. I figured you might take matters into your own hands after I left you trembling.”

I stared at him completely speechless.

“If you are going to play games, Elena,” he continued, voice dropping lower, “you should know, I don’t play fair. And I always win.”

He suddenly got up and started walking around the table, coming towards me, making my body tense as he stopped behind me and his hand grazed the back of my neck, making me tremble.

“Red tomorrow,” he whispered. “You will wear it for me.”

Then he leaned down with his lips brushing my ear.

“And tonight, I will make you cum so hard that you will forget your own name.” His words made my toe curl.

Then he simply walked away without uttering another word, leaving me breathless and soaking wet, making me grip the table for balance.

God, help me. I am damned to be ruined.

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