Fated To The Cursed Alpha Don

7. Kill Me Please

My whole body is f*****g shaking. What the hell does he mean, bend over? Does he actually plan to beat me? His stare is dark…he looks like he is seconds away from snapping.

I do not get the chance to react before he grabs my arm and yanks me forward, dragging me toward the bed.

"You are so f*****g stubborn, wife." His voice is so calm, like we're casually conversing instead of whatever the hell this is.

“Let me go!”

"You should have listened when I gave you an order." He says, pressing my hands together behind my back.

"What the hell are you doing right now? Are you trying to beat me or what?" I spit the words out, thrashing against his grip, but he’s just so f*****g strong. Unnaturally strong.

He lets out a low chuckle. "No. On the contrary, I am going to spank you."

I freeze. He cannot be serious. "Are you out of your f*****g mind?"

"I did warn you."

"You are insane—"

The first smack comes down hard, sharp, stealing my breath. A stinging heat spreads across my ass, and my entire body jerks forward from the impact.

"Stop it! Let me go, you bastard!"

"I will let you go when you strip and get in the f*****g shower," he says, landing another punishing strike.

"f**k you!"

His hand comes down again. And again. He does not hold back, spanking me across my ass and thighs, each hit burning hotter than the last. I bite my lip hard, refusing to make a sound. I will not give this bastard the satisfaction of hearing me scream.

"Still resisting?" His voice is cold, detached. "I will use my belt on your bare ass if I have to, wife."

My breath shudders. My skin is on fire, the pain deep and pulsing. If I keep fighting, he will actually do it. He is not bluffing. The thought alone sends a fresh wave of humiliation crashing over me.

But there is something else.

Something worse.

With every smack, a sharp, traitorous heat coils deep in my belly. I hate him—I despise him…but my body? My body does not seem to f*****g care. Each strike sends an aching tingle through my thighs, pooling low and shameful.

I squeeze my eyes shut. No. No, no, no.

"You are one stubborn-ass witch," he murmurs. "But I know how to deal with you."

My breath hitches as his fingers curl into the waistband of my pants. f**k.

I thrash wildly, f*****g desperate. "Stop…please stop!"

"Why? Afraid I will see your pretty little ass?"

"Let me go!"

"Or maybe…" His fingers flex, dragging slowly over the fabric. "Maybe you are afraid I will see how f*****g wet you are from this."

My face literally burns."You are lying!"

But he is not.

I feel it. The slick heat pressing against my panties, undeniable and mortifying.

"I can smell it, sweetheart. I can feel it." A dark chuckle rumbles from his chest. "Aren’t you a dirty little slut? Getting wet from being spanked like a brat. The way your naughty ass lifts for me every time I hit it…"

A shudder rolls through me, and I feel so humiliated beyond words. I shake my head, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. "I will do it," I whisper, barely able to get the words out. "I will strip."

"Good girl."

The moment he lets go of me, I stumble back, wiping at my eyes. My ass is on fire, pain radiating with every movement I take.

"Do it," he says sharply.

Tears blur my vision. "Why? Why are you doing this to me, you monster?"

"Monster?" He scoffs. "I’m not the one who abandoned my own daughter and used her as bait to escape."

The words hit me, cruel and mocking. And my stomach drops. No. No, that cannot be true. "You’re lying. You and Gavi—"

Dante tilts his head, watching me like I’m pathetic. "He actually did. Your brother explained it himself. The moment your father sent you off with that Cole guy, he took the emergency exit with his driver and left his men to die. He sent a decoy convoy with you in it, just to make it seem like he was inside."

A loud sob rips out of me as the first tear slips free. "No." My heart's pounding so hard it feels like it is going to crack open. "Papa... no."

Dante shrugs, completely unmoved. "It’s human nature. Betrayal. And in the end, your father is just a despicable f*****g human."

Something inside me breaks. The sobs come hard and fast, racking my body as I sink to the floor. How could he do this to me?

Dante exhales like he’s bored. "I’ll give you five minutes to calm down. Then, get inside that bathroom." He turns for the door.

"Just do it!" I say. “Kill me, Dante. f*****g do it already! I don’t want to live anymore! What’s the point?"

He stops at the door, then turns back, eyes dark and empty. "I can’t do that. You have to be alive."

"Why?" My voice is husky, face soaked with tears. "You f*****g hate me, don’t you? Just let me die!"

His expression doesn’t change. "I already told you… I’m going to break you. And I’m going to make you pay for everything your father did."

A bitter laugh rips out of me. "Does it even f*****g matter anymore? He doesn’t care about me, you f*****g bastard! You already killed everyone in the mansion except Gavi. So just—please. End this."

He studies me for a second, then turns away again. "I’ll have the maid bring you a dress." With that, he walks out, locking the door behind him.

I crumble completely, pressing my fists to my chest as if that will keep my heart from splitting open. "Papa..." The betrayal crushes me, feeling like a knife in my f*****g chest . I loved him more than anything. I believed him when he said he would always protect me. That I would always be his little girl. But he…he threw me away. Left me to die.

And my brother? He just stood there and watched it all happen.

I let out a sharp, shaky breath. I was tortured because of them. And even now, after all of it, I still cannot bring myself to give Dante the location of the New York hideout. Some sick part of me still cares about Papa.

What the f**k am I supposed to do now? Why should I suffer for whatever my father did to Dante?

I clench my fists, fresh hatred burning in my veins. I hate Papa. I hate Gavi. And I f*****g hate Dante.

I wipe my eyes, forcing myself to my feet. No. I am not going to do this. I am not going to become that man’s slave. Never.

I scan the room, my chest heaving. There has to be something. Anything sharp.

My eyes land on the dresser. I rush over, yanking open a drawer, my breath hitching when I spot a pair of scissors. Without hesitation, I grab them, gripping them tight in my trembling hands.

I lift the blade to my wrist, my fingers tightening around the handle. I’d rather die than be that brute’s wife.

I do not hesitate. The moment the blade slices into my skin, warm blood rushes out, spilling down my arm.

My vision tilts, and a sudden dizziness wash over me. I feel my knees going weak, and I sway on my feet before my body gives out, collapsing onto the cold floor.

My limbs feel heavy now, the pain numbing into nothingness. This is it. This is for the best. Nobody cares about me anyway.

Just as I start to slip away, the door slams open.

Heavy footsteps pound against the floor. Then, a sharp voice screams. "Gabriella! What the f**k did you do?"

Strong hand grips my face. My blurred vision makes out Dante’s form crouching over me, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes…

Why the f**k does he look worried?

Does he hate me so much that the thought of me dying pisses him off? Is he afraid he won’t get the chance to torture me anymore?

Too bad for him.

"No, no, no..." His hands press against my wrist, trying to stop the bleeding. "Stay with me."

His voice is the last thing I hear before everything fades to black.

Finally... death.