Chapter Four.

Chapter Four

Mirabelle's POV

The sting on my neck hadn’t faded. His fingers had wrapped around it so tightly, like he wanted to squeeze the life out of me. I’d never felt such fear before not from the men who stared at me like meat, not even when I was sold like a thing. But him? Luca? He didn’t just hurt me. He silenced me. Reminded me of who I was now.

Property.

The moment we got back to the mansion, I stayed silent. I didn’t even cry. I sat curled up in the corner of the massive room he’d left me in, knees to my chest, replaying everything over and over. 

The cold in my chest, the burn in my throat. The way he looked at me like I was nothing.

The way which he called me a whore and reminded me of who I was. At least, he should treat me like a human instead of him treating me this way.

He hadn’t even said a word after he did it. Just walked away like choking me was normal. Like I was just an object that needed to be put in place.

Later that night, the door opened again interrupting my thoughts. I sprang up from the bed immediately. Different thoughts clouded my mind, unsure about what he was here for. 

He stepped in, dressed in all black, eyes unreadable.

"Since we'll be living under the same roof," he started, his voice low and sharp, "you need to know the rules."

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My voice felt stuck somewhere deep.

"Rule one. You do not leave this house. Not without my permission. Not ever. You hear me?"

I nodded slightly, head still down.

"Rule two. Keep your mouth shut. You see something, hear something you pretend you didn’t. You don’t talk to anyone about anything."

My heart thudded harder. I know he never wanted me here at first, and he was doing all of this so he could satisfy his father wh

"Rule three. If there’s a fight, you stay out of it. No screaming. No crying. You stay quiet."

I swallowed.

"Rule four. My friends are off-limits. You don’t talk to them. Don’t look at them. Don’t even breathe around them unless I say so."

I felt my fingers dig into my skin. There was no point living anymore then? 

"And rule five. My room is not your space. You don’t walk in, even if the door is open. You only come in if I tell you to. Otherwise, stay away."

"What if someone tells your father about it? What if he discovers that you were just deceiving him?" He was about leaving, but I decided to bring up the topic again.

Fuck! He had told me not to question me the other time and I kept on doing it. I swear, it wasn't intentional.

He stepped towards him, he hands slowly leaving the door knob.

"I'm sorry, I was just curious." I pleaded, while I stepped backwards slowly. My back hit the wall again. He was finally close to me, we were so close and u found her he could see how my chest heaved as I breathe. 

"That is none of your business. This is between me and my father and you have to act just like I have instructed you to do." His eyes slowly traced my neck which has still red due to his grip.

There was no sort of guilt or pity in his eyes. 

"I don't know how long this is going to last, but not very long. Just act your part and followed the rules which I had just listed."

I stood here, numb. He hadn't come to apologize. He came to make sure I knew I was trapped. His hands slowly reached for my skirt.

"Or should I just assume this was what you wanted this night?"

"No. I just wanted to know what'd happen." His touch had an effect on me that I just couldn't explain. I could feel that warm sensation in me.

Are you sure you don't want any of this? 

His hand brushed the hem of my skirt.

I flinched.

"You're trembling," he muttered, his voice low, a mix of mockery and something else. His fingers ghosted over my thigh, slow and deliberate, sending a shiver through me. “And yet…”

He leaned in, his breath hot against my cheek. “You’re warm.”

I felt it the shift. The silence between us now hung heavy, charged with something I didn’t have the words for.

His fingers slid higher, so close it made my breath hitch. He stopped just before touching where I dreaded and craved most. His knuckles grazed my skin.

Then, his eyes met mine. Dark. Dangerous.

“You say no…” he murmured, “but your body tells me a different story.”

My throat went dry. I hated how he was right. I hated how my body betrayed me.

“You want me to believe this was just curiosity?” He tilted his head, a cruel smirk forming on his lips. “That you asked about my father because you care?”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I knew I asked genuinely, but he was really mistaken at this point, but I couldn't deny.

His hand pressed flat against my stomach, warm and commanding. I sucked in a breath as he slowly moved it downward, until he was cupping me through the thin lace of my panties.

He paused.

His expression shifted, just for a second.

“Well, well…” His voice dropped even lower, more dangerous than before. “Looks like my little doll is soaking.”

He figured out eventually.

My knees buckled slightly. He caught my chin in his fingers, tilting my face up to his. “You should be ashamed,” he said, dragging each word like a whip. “But you’re not, are you?”

I wanted to scream. Or cry. Or beg him to stop teasing me. But all I could do was stand there, frozen under the heat of his palm.

He didn’t move. Just held me there, like a predator watching prey squirm. His thumb pressed gently, just once, through the damp fabric.

I gasped, raising my heels a little bit. 

And he smiled. Not kindly. Not sweetly.

“That’s enough for tonight,” he said, wiping his hand on a handkerchief before tossing it to the floor like it was nothing. “Maybe next time, you'll remember your place before speaking out of turn.”

What the hell was that?

He turned and walked towards the door. As he was about to twist the door knob.

Something went off!

Bang! 

"Lay down." He instructed as I did immediately. I wasn't a kid and I knew what was happening. 

Another shot went off again. It was an attack. They were here for him. 

"Don't leave this fucking room or else you ar

e going to regret it." He rushed out right after the instructions.

This was just the beginning of my daily struggles.