Chapter 9: Three Months Trial
507 Words
Present
As Valentina sat bound in the back seat of Don Romano’s Porsche 911 Turbo S — sleek, black, and suffocatingly silent — she couldn’t believe that minutes ago she had thought everything was going well. How did it all go wrong? How had he found her so fast?
She glared at the face of the man she’d called handsome just hours earlier at the café, and how she wished she could scratch him to death.
“Have you seen enough?” His deep voice cut through the thick air as he finally looked up from his tablet.
Valentina glared daggers at him.
“I wish I could kill you!” she spat bitterly, but he only chuckled.
“How funny. Just today you wished to marry me. How did you change your mind so quickly?” He narrowed his eyes, leaning closer to study her features as if they were his property.
“Only if I knew. I’d have rather shot myself to death!” Romano’s face darkened instantly, and he clasped her jaw in a firm, possessive grip.
“Do not utter such words ever again,” his voice wrapped around her like an icy chain.
Forcing her face out of his grasp, she shifted as far away as the tight back seat allowed.
“Don Romano, don’t you know my family deceived you?”
“I do,” he responded nonchalantly.
“Then why did you go ahead? Why didn’t you do something?” She was genuinely confused. At the hotel, when she revealed everything, she expected an explosion of anger — but clearly, he already knew.
“There’s nothing I do not know. As long as I want to, I can find out. I only decided to go with their plan after meeting you today. So let’s say your family’s survival is all thanks to you.” Valentina’s vision spun. She wished she could jump out of the moving car and end her life, but she couldn’t even move her limbs much. She swallowed the rising bile.
“Don Romano—”
“Lucian.”
“What?” Valentina blinked, confused.
Lucian’s grey eyes locked on hers. “Call me Lucian. To the rest of the world, I am Don Romano — but you’re my wife. Didn’t you want to know my name earlier?”
Valentina scoffed. “What a wonderful way to bind your wife and whisk her home.” Her tone dripped with sarcasm.
Lucian didn’t bother replying.
“Look, Lucian, I don’t even know what you stand to gain from this marriage, but please — I promise we aren’t compatible.”
Lucian looked coldly at the flustered girl trying desperately to negotiate with him. His lips stretched into a thin, unmoved line. Without even glancing at her, he said,
“You want your freedom? Earn it. Three months as my wife.”
As those words left his lips, the car turned through iron security gates, revealing an enormous stone mansion sprawled across manicured grounds — towering, intimidating, and impossibly grand.
- Writer
