7. Following his rules? not really!

I woke up to the harsh sunlight disturbing my sleep. I yawned and stretched my body, expecting my husband to be sleeping beside me, but all I felt was coldness.

Slowly, I opened my eyes to find the other side of my bed empty. My gaze flicked to the clock.

8:00 AM

After he left, I drifted into a deep sleep. I wasn't sure if he even returned last night.

Maybe he was hanging upside down like a bat, plotting his next move against me; who knows?

I yawned again and kicked off the sheets from my body. I was definitely not here only to sleep.

"Fuck"

A low groan passed my lips as soon as I sat up, reminding me of last night's little artistic session with my husband. My hands tried to reach out where it stung, but I couldn't.

Arrogant bastard.

I glanced down at myself and realised that I was still wearing that ruined, half-unzipped black velvet dress from last night, which was torn in places. And now I have nothing to wear.

Thanks to Mr. Husband.

Sigh.

Suddenly my eyes caught the sight of his walk-in closet.

As I pushed the glass door open, I was greeted by an absurdly neat and massive space that smelled entirely like him. His belongings were so well organised that I was tempted to make a mess of it.

But I was no longer a teenager. Was I?

I ran my fingers along the racks, searching for something comfortable to wear. I froze when I caught the sight of a dark grey vintage cotton T-shirt.

Does he still have this T-shirt?

I remember how obsessed he used to be with this T-shirt, seven years back.

A wicked smirk curled on my lips as I yanked it off the wooden hanger.

That's going to be my outfit for the day.

I headed straight into the bathroom and did my business quickly.

When I stepped out and dried off, I picked up his grey shirt and pulled it over my head. The shirt hung off one of my shoulders and stopped just above my mid-thigh.

Undergarments?

Non-existent.

My bra was lying somewhere on the floor in the bathroom.

I ran my fingers through my untangled hair because I remembered Dante liked it this way and gave myself one last wicked smile before stepping out of the master suite where I was being carried on my shoulder.

As I walked out, I found Dante sitting at the head of the table, dressed in a crisp black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, looking infuriatingly handsome and lethal. A tablet was resting in one hand while he was sipping his black coffee with the other.

How could he look so calm after what happened last night?

Nevertheless!

Just when he took a slow sip of his coffee, I deliberately let my hip graze the edge of a chair as I walked past him, which caught his and his guard's attention.

His eyes moved down my frame slowly, from his beloved grey T-shirt slanting off my bare shoulder to my braless breast. He coughed on his coffee when he saw my almost bare leg on full display.

Choke on it, Mafia King.

I smiled to myself.

"OUT!" Dante roared, and both the guards ran for their lives.

He slammed his coffee cup onto the saucer with a loud clink and snapped at me, "What the hell are you wearing?"

"T-shirt"

I smiled, walked around him, and sat on the chair with my legs folded. The hem of the T-shirt rolled dangerously high, but I didn't care. His eyes flicked down between my thighs, and in that particular second I could see his orbs darkening.

"Oops! Just a t-shirt"

I winked at him as he looked up.

"It's mine!" He said through clenched teeth.

"So am I!" I gave him my sweetest smile. "Didn't you make it loud and clear to the world last night?"

His fists clenched, and his jaw tightened while I just shrugged and made myself more comfortable.

The heated moment was interrupted by an elderly maid who entered in a black-and-white uniform, carrying a silver tray. She bowed her head before placing it in front of Dante.

I glanced at his breakfast. It was a plain piece of unbuttered whole-wheat toast, two poached eggs with zero seasoning, and a side of black coffee.

Bland. Just like him.

"Excuse me," I said, grabbing the maid's attention. "Could you bring me a toasted BLT sandwich and two eggs sunny-side up, please?" I smiled at her, and this time it was a genuine smile.

She glanced at Dante timidly, who just tilted his head. I was expecting her to take time in preparing my breakfast, but she returned within a minute. As soon as she set the tray on the table, my smile vanished.

Sitting on the plain tin plate was a single piece of cold, stale white bread, and a lukewarm scoop of watery oatmeal.

"This is not what I asked for." I looked up at her.

But she glanced at Dante one last time and left.

Wh-what?

"You aren't on vacation, Clara," Dante said coldly while cutting his eggs. "This isn't a five-star hotel, and you aren't a guest."

My jaw clenched, and my nose flared.

I am literally starving!

I haven't had anything for more than twenty-four hours now.

All thanks to him!

He ate the piece of egg and placed the fork down.

"From now on, you will eat what I tell you to eat, wear what I tell you to wear, and do whatever I say," he stated with absolute authority. "You wanted to claim your title as my wife? Welcome to your reality."

Hot blood rushed to my cheeks. He thought he could starve me into submission and treat me like a captive?

Fuck him!

"I am not eating this garbage," I spat, and picked up a fresh Apple from the fruit basket.

I took a big bite while he stared at me.

"I haven't killed anyone to be fed prison slop, Dante," I said while chewing.

"Oh?"

One of his eyebrows rose in accusation.

"So, do I need to remind you how brutally you took an innocent life, Clara?"

And suddenly I lost my appetite. It became hard for me to swallow the morsel in my mouth.

I didn't realise when Dante came to stand in front of me. I looked up at him through my lashes. He looked down at my body, scanning every inch with his dark, intense gaze. His finger reached out to my chin to lift my face.

"I know what you are trying to do," he spat, "and I will never let you be successful in your plans."

The harshness in his voice made me swallow down the half-chewed apple.

"Be ready to reap what you sow"