Chapter 8 Fear Me

~Vincent~

A few seconds after Aunt Shirley left, a soft knock came from the door.

“Master Luciano, Master Vincent. Your breakfast is ready.”

I wasn't in the mood to spend one more second with him.

I immediately followed the maid.

We walked toward the dining hall together, the silence between us almost ridiculous.

The moment we reached the table, I pulled out a chair and served myself.

I wasn't interested in making small talk, not after what he'd said minutes ago in the sitting room.

I picked up my plate and stood.

“Where are you going?”

“My room.”

I didn't turn back.

I could feel his eyes following me as I walked away.

Whatever.

I hope he chokes on his food.

Once I reached my room, I shut the door and locked it.

I placed my breakfast on the small table beside the bed before grabbing my phone.

There was only one person I wanted to talk to.

My best friend.

Hugh.

I pressed his name and waited.

He answered on the second ring.

“Hey, youu. Forgive me for not calling. I didn't know the perfect time to call.”

“Hey. I understand.”

“You okay? You sound weird. Are they giving you trouble?”

“I always sound weird, Hugh.”

“Well, this isn't your normal weird.”

I rolled my eyes and smiled.

“Stop analyzing my voice.”

“Only when you tell me what's wrong.”

I sighed, leaning back against the headboard.

“I just miss having someone normal to talk to.”

“Normal? Since when am I normal?”

I smiled.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah. So, how's married life?”

I groaned.

“Don't remind me.”

Hugh laughed.

“That bad?”

“Worse.”

I picked at my food with my fork.

“Luciano is inconsiderate, annoying, arrogant, and somehow manages to be irritating without even trying.”

“That sounds like a lot of adjectives for someone you've only known for three days.”

“Trust me. He earned every single one.”

Hugh chuckled.

“I wish I could see this. You dealing with someone who annoys you this much.”

“You'd enjoy it way too much.”

“Obviously.”

I shook my head, a small smile appearing despite myself.

For a moment, things felt normal again.

Then a knock sounded on my door.

I frowned.

“What now?”

“Someone there?” Hugh asked.

I glanced at the door.

“I'll call you later.”

“Wait—”

I ended the call and walked toward the door.

A guard stood outside.

“Master Vincent.”

His expression was unreadable.

“You've been summoned by the boss.”

Great.

Just what I needed.

The guard led me through a part of the mansion I hadn't explored before.

I'd explored most of the accessible areas since arriving, but almost every other door I'd come across had been locked.

Which only made me more suspicious of this particular hallway.

The farther we walked, the quieter it became.

The hallway was dim, the walls casting long shadows beneath the weak lights.

It was creepy enough to make me wonder if Luciano was secretly a grim reaper with a mansion-sized coffin somewhere beneath the house.

Eventually, we stopped in front of a set of tall double doors.

The guard reached for one of the handles.

The door creaked open slowly.

He stepped aside, giving me room to enter.

I tightened my grip around my phone and stepped through.

My eyes immediately swept across the room.

A study.

Luciano's study.

So this was the place.

I took in everything I could without making it obvious.

The documents stacked neatly across one side of the desk.

If I was going to investigate this family, I needed to know what was around me.

Even the tiniest thing could hold something useful.

“Vincent.”

My body jolted.

I hadn't even looked at the man who had summoned me.

Luciano sat behind the desk, a pair of reading glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.

His attention was fixed on me.

I swallowed.

“Come here.”

I hesitated.

“Why?”

His eyebrow lifted.

“Must you question everything I say?”

“Usually.”

His lips twitched.

“Come sit.”

I reluctantly walked toward the chairs opposite his desk and sat down.

I kept my phone in my hand, more out of habit than anything else.

“Why did you call me here?”

Luciano leaned back in his chair.

“I see you're still throwing tantrums.”

I frowned.

“I don't throw tantrums.”

“Then what would you call your behavior this morning?”

“You know what you did.”

I folded my arms.

“So let's just move on.”

He stared at me for a moment.

“That's no way to speak to your husband.”

I opened my mouth.

“Thank goodness you're not my hus—”

I stopped.

Luciano was suddenly standing directly in front of me.

I hadn't even seen him leave his chair.

The amusement had disappeared from his face.

His eyes were cold.

For one terrifying second, he looked like the kind of man who could decide someone's fate without feeling a trace of remorse.

Except, he was exactly that kind of man.

He leaned closer.

“I dare you to finish that sentence.”

My throat went dry.

Oh God.

“Nothing.”

His stare didn't soften.

“That's what I thought.”

He remained there for another moment, close enough that I could feel the tension rolling off him.

Then, as if the entire exchange had never happened, he smiled.

“I called you here so we could have dinner together.”

I blinked.

“What?”

Luciano straightened and turned toward the guard.

“Tell the chef to bring the food.”

“Yes, Boss.”

The guard left.

I stared at Luciano.

“You summoned me all the way here for dinner?”

“Precisely.”

“That was unnecessary.”

“I disagree.”

A few minutes later, several maids entered carrying trays of food.

They arranged everything across the table before quietly retreating.

I looked at the spread.

Then at Luciano.

“So you called me here just to keep you company while you eat?”

“No.”

He picked up his fork.

“I called you here because I intend to fatten my husband up.”

I nearly choked.

“You what?”

“You barely ate this morning.”

“Why do you care?”

His gaze settled on me.

“Because you're my possession.”

My fingers tightened around the fork.

“I'm not a possession.”

He gave me a faint smile.

“You're mine.”

I looked away and pushed the food around my plate.

I wasn't hungry anymore.

Luciano watched me for several seconds.

“Are you going to eat?”

“I am.”

“You're rearranging your food.”

“I like it organized.”

“Do you want me to feed you?”

I looked up sharply.

“No. I can feed myself.”

“Then why aren't you eating?”

“None of your business.”

His expression changed.

“Call the chef.”

I frowned.

“What?”

One of the maids hurried to obey.

A few moments later, the chef appeared.

“Master Luciano. I hope everything is all right.”

Luciano gestured toward me.

“My husband doesn't seem to be enjoying his meal.”

The chef's face paled.

“I'm sorry, Master. I—”

“Perhaps the food isn't good enough.”

“No, Master. I assure you—”

Luciano picked up his fork and examined it casually.

Then he looked at the chef.

“Put your hand on the table.”

The chef froze.

“M-master?”

“You heard me.”

The man's eyes widened.

He slowly placed his hand on the table.

I stared at Luciano.

Then at the chef.

Oh, hell no.

“Stop.”

Luciano looked at me.

“I'll eat.”

The chef immediately pulled his hand back.

Luciano's lips curved.

“Good.”

I glared at him before stabbing my fork into the food.

“You're insane.”

“So I've heard.”

I took a bite.

Then another.

The chef quietly disappeared into the background.

Luciano seemed satisfied.

“There. Was that so difficult?”

“Yes.”

He chuckled.

I continued eating, mostly because I didn't want anyone losing a hand over my appetite.

After a few minutes, Luciano spoke again.

“We're attending a soirée tonight.”

I stopped chewing.

“Do I have to go?”

“Of course.”

“Those events are for people like you.”

“And you're married to someone like me.”

I sighed.

“I don't have anything to wear.”

“Already handled.”

I looked at him.

“I have your outfit prepared.”

“You planned this without asking me?”

“Yes.”

“Of course you did.”

He ignored my complaint.

I hesitated before asking the question that had been bothering me.

“Will my parents be there?”

His expression hardened.

“I don't want you to fear your parents.”

I frowned.

“What?”

“I want you to fear me.”

My fork stopped halfway to my mouth.

“That doesn't even make sense.”

“It does to me.”

“Why would you want me to fear you?”

Luciano leaned back.

“Because fear keeps people from becoming careless.”

I stared at him.

“That's a terrible reason.”

“Maybe.”

His gaze held mine.

“But I don't want you to break easily.”

I frowned.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I don't want you to become comfortable enough to forget who you're dealing with.”

His voice was calm, almost disturbingly so.

“You're stronger when you're cautious.”

I didn't know what to say to that.

Luciano picked up his glass.

“And besides…”

He smiled.

“I like seeing that fire in your eyes. Makes everything fun about you, I doubt I'll ever get bored.”

My stomach tightened.

I hated the way he said things like that.

As though he already knew exactly which buttons to press.

I looked away.

The evening suddenly felt much closer than it had a moment ago.

And if Luciano had his way, tonight's soirée wasn't going to be just another gathering.

It was going to be my first public appearance as Luciano Volkov's husband.

Somewhere in my gut, I had a feeling things weren't going to be as smooth as any normal person would expect.