All Chapters of Trapped in a Millionaire’s Revenge: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

I walk towards him, observing his elegant demeanor while he waits for his glass of champagne. I don't understand why he is not in one of those giant Calvin Klein advertisements that you find in the shopping centers."May I join you?" I ask him when I get to his side, trying not to show how attractive he seems to me.Sienna, you must not fall for him, My inner self tells me, but I think it's a little late.He looks at me from head to toe with those big blue eyes and then fixes them on my gray eyes. " Of course you can," he says, smiling at me, "young man, a glass of champagne for the miss per favore," tells the bartender, and I melt with his accent."Thank you," I say with a smile on my face, and then I grab the glass, "Come, let's go over there," I propose pointing to one of the tall cocktail tables that are free in a corner."I never would have imagined that Mauricio had a daughter so bella'." He says, and I love how the word

Ten days after:I am staying in a luxurious hotel room as requested by the person that will be my husband in a few hours. Once again, I observe the large white box wrapped with a bow of the same color on the bed. I open it and find a fancy and exquisite wedding dress that I will wear in just one hour. It is still difficult for me to assimilate that I have agreed to this, but everything Lucas has told me is true. I have given myself the task of investigating the finances of the vessel company and even my father's. He is on the verge of bankruptcy, and I can't allow that to happen, knowing it's my fault.I take out the dress, put it on my hands, and when I remove it from the box, I am speechless; it is the same model as the one I had chosen to marry Ramiro. How does Lucas know about this? I wonder again and remove the little card inside."Since you haven't worn it with him, I thought you could wear it with me. I'll wait for you. Lucas"Idiot, I don

 I go back to the same room where I dressed for my wedding, the one that now witnesses the tears that run down my cheeks, as I put on the short white dress that Lucas has left on the bed with a note that says, "Put this on." The dress is practically a copy of the same one that I wear in Capri. I no longer understand what he expects from me. Is he trying to torture me with memories?Now I understand the reason for bringing the suitcase with clothes; it was to travel to Italy. I dread traveling to that place with him. What if he hurts me?While I can't stop thinking about how my life has turned into a nightmare in a matter of days, I walk the corridors of this hotel until I reach the reception. I see him waiting for me at the hotel entrance, and when he sees me, he approaches and takes my suitcase."It would be nice if you hurry. The pilot is waiting for us," he asks me as I follow him to leave the hotel and get into the limousine."Pilot?" I ask, conf

Venice, what a beautiful city! Its landscapes make me forget this nightmare that I am living. Her beauty is the reason that brings a smile to my face as a limousine takes us to Lucas's house. "Can you imagine living here?" he asks me, and I must turn to see him.I look at his face and try to figure out what that question means, but I can't understand him."The place is beautiful, but no. I love my city; I love its warmth, the sea, and being close to my father," I say firmly and turn my gaze to the window.I can't allow him to take me away from the only thing left of my life. That is not an option."What a shame," he says, and I don't even want to look at him. I'm afraid he might convince me of something else.I don't understand what he meant by that, but I prefer to avoid asking him. I have already understood that he will never answer any of my doubts.[...]The limo enters what appears to be a mansion. I am speechless by the

Painted in light gray tones and with some minimal details of purple, the room where I will be staying is ridiculously huge. It has a living room, bathroom, and huge walk-in closet that makes my room in Miami just a sizeable one."Does it please you?" he asks while he stares at me."I guess that doesn't matter," I express coldly. Then I go where the staff left my bags.I bend down to open them and start to unpack my clothes when I see him standing in front of me "we will have to go shopping. You have to change your style," he tells me, and I look up to meet his eyes."Don't even dream about it. I won't stop being who I am because of you. Also, you should know that I always appeared on the list of the best dressed in any social event I went to," I reply firmly. The desire to erase that stupid smile comes back again."It seems very good to me, but the clothes you wear in Miami are very different from those used by women here in Italy. In my family, im