Becoming the Cruel Mafia's Wife

Chapter 6: A Way Out

I avoided looking at him, maintaining a confident smile as Grandma Deborah complimented me on my appearance. I played the part of the social butterfly, even though I just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep.

"Abigail, how are your studies going?" Mr. Lombardi inquired.

"Very well, Mr. Lombardi. I'm almost ready to graduate," I replied proudly.

He reminded me to call him by his first name, showing a softer side that not everyone gets to see. Despite his tough exterior, he was kind to me. It seemed like he and Grandpa Lombardi were the ones in charge, even over Damon.

"I hate to be blunt, but if you get pregnant, you'll have to pause your studies, Abigail," my brother-in-law warned.

I met his gaze. "I am determined to continue with my plans regardless of the outcome. Damon would support me, I was sure of it."

"I'm glad you understand, Abigail," Grandma Deborah chimed in.

"Always," I replied with a wink, feeling a rush of boldness that surprised me. My cheeks flushed, and I realized it was the most daring move I had made since my breakup.

It felt really weird.

I shifted the conversation by focusing my attention on the stranger. “I remember seeing you at the wedding, but I don't recall us being properly introduced.”

All eyes turned towards each other, but I maintained a smile, oblivious to the reason for their exchanged glances. The girl delicately brushed the corners of her lips and offered me a radiant smile.

She's undeniably beautiful.

"I'm Veronica Lacrox, a family friend," she stated with a flawless English accent. “I apologize for not approaching you earlier; I didn't want to impose.”

"I completely understand," I replied, nodding thoughtfully. “I'm looking forward to getting to know you better.”

I hadn't anticipated wanting to get to know her better. There's something about her that doesn't sit right with me, or perhaps it's because she hasn't stopped staring at me since I arrived.

Do I have something on my face?

I decided to cease smiling, just in case. I didn't want to be caught off guard in front of everyone.

Despite having no appetite, I managed to take a few bites of the food on my plate; all the while, the man beside me observed me intently.

His intense gaze made me slightly uneasy, and I hoped I wasn't the target of his displeasure. I knew I was taking a risk by holding his hand, by using terms of endearment like “honey” when I had less flattering names in mind. I just hoped my actions went unnoticed and that he would leave me until tomorrow.

Once I finished my meal, I mustered up the courage to inch closer to him, concealing my nervousness.

"Can I retire to my room, or do you need me to stay?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

I despised having to ask for permission to leave the table; it felt like surrendering my independence. However, I had a hunch that this act somehow made him feel powerful, and if I could maintain that illusion, then so be it.

Underneath the table, I placed my hand on his leg, unsure if he had any sensitivity to touch. I knew very little about his health and progress, but I took the risk once again, gently caressing him with my fingers.

He tilted his head, his black and enigmatic eyes staring at me, sending shivers down my spine. The rest of the dinner party continued their lively conversation, oblivious to my internal turmoil. His gaze shifted to my hand, raising an eyebrow and hardening his expression, before turning his piercing gaze directly on me.

"Go," he uttered, his voice commanding and final.

That was all he said. As a final move to leave him deep in thought, I leaned in slightly and planted a kiss on his cheek, cupping his face with my hand. The action was so swift that even he didn't anticipate it.

I rose from my seat, bidding farewell to everyone as if the evening had captivated and enchanted me. It wasn't that I didn't care for them; I had grown to appreciate and respect them. However, the affection I felt for my in-laws and grandmother surpassed that of the others.

His grandmother insisted on me staying, but I promptly declined. After what I had done, I couldn't bear to sit in the same spot as him, at least not today.

I walked purposefully towards my room, ascending the stairs with haste. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, my heart racing from crossing that delicate boundary he had set since the day he woke up and acknowledged my presence. I knew there was a formidable wall to overcome, but the mere act of invading his personal space while he was conscious both frightened and exhilarated me.

I unlocked the door to my room and immediately made my way to the dressing room to change out of my clothes and hop into the tub. After spending the whole day outside, I can't just jump into bed without pampering myself a little first. I guess I'm a bit of a germaphobe.

Wrapped in a cozy bathrobe, I walked past my bed and into the bathroom, ready to unwind and relax. I started filling up the tub and spritting on my favorite coconut-scented perfume. My mom always wonders why I like such sweet scents, but I can't help it - it's my signature scent from Paris that I fell in love with years ago.

Once the water was just right, I eased into the tub and let the warmth soothe my tired muscles. As I closed my eyes, I couldn't help but think about Damon's reaction when I kissed his cheek earlier. The look on his face was priceless, and I couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking.

For a brief moment, I feared it would detonate, but fortunately, it didn't.

My thoughts drifted back to Evan and all the memories we shared. How had his time in Europe been? Could he have possibly fallen in love? Does he miss me?

At times, I feel guilty for pondering about him being married already, but then I remind myself that there's nothing between Damon and me except remorse. The feeling of guilt fades away, replaced by longing.

If only Damon possessed even a fraction of Evan's qualities, perhaps we could find some common ground.

I searched through my closet for my underwear, prepared to get dressed and headed to bed. Earlier, I applied a scented cream with the same fragrance as my perfume all over my body. I massaged it into every inch of my skin, waiting for it to be fully absorbed. Then, I selected a set of old, delicate pink lingerie and began to dress for sleep. I choose a silk robe in a matching shade and place it gently on my bed. With my hair cascading down, I left my dressing room, humming my favorite tune.

"Oh my...! Damon!" I exclaimed, startled as I saw him.

Instinctively, I covered myself with my hands, allowing the robe to slip off and fall to the floor. He stood in the center of my room, hands clasped, back straight, and a piercing gaze fixed upon me. Two of his men stood with their backs to us, forming a protective barrier.

"What are you doing in my room?" I asked, trying to regain composure.

"Are you suggesting that I can't freely roam wherever I please in my own house?" he retorted.

"I didn't mean that! It's just..." I stumbled over my words, feeling a mix of reflexes and embarrassment.

"What game are you playing?" he interrupted, his question direct and piercing. "What game are you playing, Abigaíl?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." I feigned ignorance. "I'm simply trying to find some common ground with you."

I could feel the intensity in his grip as he pulled me closer, our faces mere inches apart. His eyes bore into mine, filled with a mix of anger and something else I couldn't quite decipher.

"You think you can play games with me, Abigail? You think you can just walk away after everything you've done?" His voice was low and dangerous, sending shivers down my spine.

I tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened. "Let go of me, Damon," I demanded, my voice trembling slightly.

He smirked, a cruel twist of his lips. "Not so fast, my dear. You're not getting off that easily. You will stay by my side until we find out the truth about this child. And if it's mine, you will never leave me."

I struggled against his hold, my heart pounding in my chest. "You can't force me to stay, Damon. I won't be trapped in this toxic relationship any longer."

His grip loosened slightly, and I took the opportunity to break free. I stepped back, putting some distance between us. "I deserve better than this, Damon. I deserve someone who loves and respects me."

He watched me, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and regret. "Maybe you're right, Abigail. Maybe we're just not meant to be."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "No, we're not. And I won't let you control my life any longer."

With that, I turned and walked away, leaving him behind. It's time for me to find my own happiness, away from the toxicity of our relationship.

I decided to straighten up, but he held me by my arm tightly and pulled me towards him, so I stood face to face with him once more.

Reflexively, I tilted my face a little, while he only brushed his nose on my jaw and part of my neck. With calm and tortuous slowness, he did so. I felt his rough, broad hand take my chin, exerting some pressure and forcing me to look at his face once more.

By reflex, I tilted my face a little, while he only brushed his nose against my jaw and part of my neck. Calmly and tortuously, he did it. I felt his rough, wide hand take my chin, applying some pressure and forcing me to look at his face once again.

"Be careful what you do, Abigail. I am a grown man, much older than you and quite astute indeed. You are my wife, a small and innocent one. I may act like a spoiled child just to get something from you, and you won't be able to deny me. Play your cards right if you don't want to end up crying under the pink sheets in your room, darling," he stated with a cunning grin.

He released me roughly, leaving me stunned by his words.

He turned around in his wheelchair and was ready to leave my room, leaving me with a bad feeling settled in my chest. His men noticed their boss, and one of them was the one who now began to roll the chair away while the other closed both doors without even looking at me.

I began to tremble at being alone, and asked if all these were necessary. I don't think Damon would dare do that much. I don't think he would be able to touch me without my consent.

My heart told me that he wouldn't do it, that he was nothing more than a cruel, wounded man with a lot of secrets within him. But my rational side, the one that didn't get carried away by silly feelings, told me that it was capable of doing it. Just as he assured me that he would give me an abortion, he is capable of coming to my room one night and demanding that I have s*x with him.

I need to end this agony, I need to not get pregnant and get out of this hell. I will continue with my plans, but with an ace up my sleeve.