Chapter 5: I Don't Care About You and I Never Will

Renzo’s words—I don’t care about you, and I never will—are still spinning in my head sometime later. It’s clear that this family guards what happens within its core fiercely. I must admit, it's interesting and, at the same time, it sparks my curiosity.

I walk along the property's path, taking deep breaths, distancing myself from everything inside that house. I need a little time to myself. So, I left the stable and am now walking across the lawn, feeling the grass under my feet, sandals in hand.

A part of me screams to run, that I’m still in time to send family duty to hell, but that’s not what’s expected of me.

I breathe in deeply before releasing it, just as I hear a growl behind my back. Cautiously, I turn around to find two Cane Corsos snarling. I swallow and take a step back.

“Nice little dogs,” I whisper, looking around for anyone, but it’s clear they are alone.

I don’t have much time to think, so when they take a step forward, it’s my moment to run. I do, letting out a scream as I hear their barks. However, I don’t get far before their paws knock me down.

Damn it!

I stay perfectly still while both animals loom over me, their drool wetting my neck. I hold my breath, and a whimper of terror escapes my lips.

Perfect. I just came to this damn house to die.

“Hades! Perseus! Get away!” Salvatore’s voice reaches me, and I dare to open one eye to watch him approach with long strides, followed by Aldo.

Tattletale.

Both animals retreat at Salvatore’s command but remain attentive, awaiting an order.

“What the hell were you thinking?” I scoff at his tone.

Who ever said delicacy was his forte?

“I went for a walk,” I retort through clenched teeth as I stand up, ignoring the hand he offers. “Cute animals. What do they eat? People?” I blurt out, and he twists his face.

“Perseus and Hades only eat quality meat.”

Son of a bitch.

“I see why they haven’t attacked you then,” my retort only makes the atmosphere around us more tense.

Aldo approaches both dogs and clips their leashes. They growl at me as he pulls the leashes and walks away.

I look at Salvatore.

“Are they yours?”

“Yes, why?”

I grimace before answering:

“They’re not wrong when they say things resemble their owner.”

He raises an eyebrow. It’s clear my words don’t please him, but what does it matter? He doesn’t like me anyway. I shudder when I feel my shirt is damp and smells awful. Damn dogs.

“Fine, I’ll go get ready for tonight and be the perfect little inflatable doll.”

“Wow, I see you can do something right after all.”

“Go to hell! Can’t you be polite just once in your life?”

His hands grab my shoulders in an almost painful grip.

“With you? Never,” he hisses. “You are now my wife, to do with as I please.”

“I am not your property.”

He gives me a cold smile.

“I’ve got news for you, Helena: you are mine to break.” My eyes pierce him with hatred, and I squirm, but he doesn't release me. “Learn this very well: I don’t care about you, and I never will.”

“You are detestable.” I squirm again, and this time he lets me go. “Being important to you is not my goal,” I counter, lifting my chin.

With that, I turn around and walk away, feeling the unpleasant sensation of the curs’ drool, and the disgusting touch of the man who is supposed to be my dreadful husband.

I enter the house, and without looking at anyone, I head upstairs. Halfway down the hall, I run into Martina, who gives me a mocking smile as she notices my appearance.

“Well, look how good you look,” she sneers and leans her head forward, sniffing before bursting into laughter. “I heard Perseus and Hades gave you a little love.”

Aldo is a tattletale and a gossip.

I don't feel like fighting with her, so I decide to do the most sensible thing: I walk past her without even giving her a second glance. Once in the room, I get rid of my clothes, go to the bathroom, fill the tub, and get in, sighing at the pleasure of the warm water.

I redo my hair, pulling it up into a messy bun, grab the sponge, and rub my chest, moving up to my neck, scrubbing the animal smell from my skin, and descending, lifting my soapy leg when I notice a figure standing at the entrance of the bathroom.

“What are you doing here?!” I shriek, awkwardly sinking further into the tub.

Salvatore gives me a stoic look as he raises his hand and drops my sandals.

“You left these on the lawn,” he replies, not letting me see an ounce of what he’s thinking right now.

I clear my throat and blow at the foam surrounding me before answering:

“Leave them outside. There was no need for you to bring them.”

He raises an eyebrow, and a small, almost chilling smile breaks through his lips, making my pulse race with the nerves of being alone with this man I don't know.

“I think it was the better decision,” he says, letting my sandals drop.

“Wh—what? What are you doing?” I inquire, going on high alert as he takes off his suit jacket. “Get out of here or I won’t be responsible!” I lift the sponge in a feint that he ignores.

He pulls off his white shirt, exposing his torso.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of me?” he asks in a low tone.

The audacity!

“Get your stupid chest out of here… don't come closer,” I continue when he takes a step forward with a lewd gaze.

His well-defined, sculpted torso makes it hard for me to take my eyes off the bastard, who looks too good for his own good. No one should look this good.

Idiot.

“We are married, and it wouldn’t be strange for me to consummate the marriage.”

I open my mouth before closing it, my mind refusing to believe what he just said. I shift in the tub and try to get out, but I restrain myself when I remember I’m naked.

“You won’t lay a finger on me. Besides, remember that I’m nothing but a child to you,” I remind him sarcastically.

“I still think the same, but I can work with what I have.” His cold tone sends shivers down my spine, and his dark eyes look at me chillingly. “Perhaps I can get rid of the problem once and for all,” he snaps before he grabs my hair and pulls me to one side.

“Let go of me and get out of here,” I hiss against his face. “If you’re trying to intimidate me, you won’t succeed,” I force myself to say.

His gaze sweeps over me, and I’m aware that my nipples are brushing the water’s surface before his mouth descends, stopping millimeters from mine.

“You’re like a frightened mouse trying to look like a lion,” he whispers as his breath grazes me.

“You think so?” I retort with a brave smile.

A bravery I don’t feel, to be honest.

“What do you want to make clear with this stupid power play?”

He clicks his tongue.

“I don’t know if you’re brave or stupid,” he counters. “Tell me, what does it feel like to be the bargaining chip in an agreement destined to fail?”

His words leave me mute before everything happens in slow motion. Salvatore pulls my hair back, and I gasp in surprise as water enters my mouth and nose. My nails dig into his hands, and I strike his torso with my other hand, only to be yanked out of the tub seconds later. I gasp and cough while Salvatore maintains his grip.

“You bastard! Do you want to kill me?” He gives me a cynical smile before letting me go. His pants are wet, as is his torso, and he looks down at me from his position. “I’m getting the hell out of here right now!”

He is unmoved.

“Go ahead, leave, and the truce goes to hell. You and your family will wish you’d never met us, and the Ferrettis will get their alliance.”

My eyes flash, and I curse everyone who led us to this situation, and myself for giving in.

I thought we would be a marriage that at least got along, but it’s clear that’s not the case.

And yet, my father wants me to get pregnant by this son of a bitch.

“Remember we leave at seven, and try to look the part,” he says before grabbing his things and leaving the same way he came in.

I look to the side in silence and feel my tears blurring my vision before they roll down my cheek.

I punch the water, stifling a scream of rage.

(Continuation of the scene at the dinner event):

I feel his hand settle low on my back, and I try to maintain a smile and not jump like an aroused cat. I want to hit him and send everyone to hell. He acts as if he hadn't tried to drown me earlier.

I know he wanted to scare and intimidate me, and he succeeded. But the last thing I will give him is the satisfaction of seeing me scared or running away to ruin the deal between both families.

There is a lot at stake, and we would be the ones harmed.

“You can stop touching me like I’m your damned property,” I mutter through clenched teeth, raising the glass to my lips.

I step away from his hand and face him.

“That’s the point, Helena. You are my property, and in front of everyone, it must look like we get along.”

Yeah, right.

“Everyone knows we are a damn farce, and I am not your fucking property.” My tone is harsh.

“Repeat that until you believe it.”

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction, I decide to choose my battles. Across the room, I meet the gazes of Paulette and Eva, Martina's friends.

Then I decide to do what I’ve discovered I’m good at: Tempting the beast.

“Wow, I don’t think they’re happy that you’re here with me. Look what I would have missed if you had drowned me this afternoon,” I mock deliberately in a wicked tone. “Don’t tell me you’re sleeping with them in a threesome?” I snap cheekily, and he glares at me.

“You can shut your mouth. Don’t make me regret not drowning you this afternoon.”

Bastard.

“Make up your mind. Should I talk and look like a proper wife, or should I be a statue that looks down on everyone?”

“You’re a harpy, but what can I expect from you and the trash that raised you.”

I take a step forward, and he lowers his face, stopping inches from mine.

“Is that supposed to make me feel bad?”

“I don’t expect that much from you; in fact, I don't expect anything.”

“Who knew we’d have something in common?”

I finish my glass and set it on the table next to us before stepping away. I look for the vanity, and when I finally find it, I relax, taking the lipstick out of my handbag to retouch it.

I give myself a critical look, seeing the black dress—deep V-neckline, long sleeves, with sheer fabric and lace—that I decided to wear tonight. My hair is loose, slicked back, and my eyes stand out dramatically.

I recall Martina and Evelina’s look when they saw me leave with Salvatore. It’s clear they don’t like me.

What happened this afternoon was a shock, but I can’t run. I won’t run. My family is counting on me, and I’m not a damsel in distress. He wants to play, so I’m going to teach my little husband that I’m not just another one of his usual conquests.

He doesn’t know I can be a good opponent.