Chapter 10: The mall
1310 Words
Nadia’s POV
My trembling hands grip my nightwear, squeezing the fabric tightly. He threatened to kill Clara just because I overslept a bit? How could anyone be so cruel?
“Sit down, Nadia. Or do you want me to help you with that?” His voice breaks the silence, startling me.
I quickly slid into one of the seats at the table. I hadn’t even brushed my teeth yet. How am I supposed to eat without brushing?
“Why aren’t you eating?” he asks suddenly.
I gulp down the lump in my throat. “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.” I murmur.
“And you stay in bed until I had to send a maid to wake you up?”
“Um… I… I was feeling a bit tired, so I overslept,” I murmur”
He leans back against his chair, his eyes boring holes into my skin. “What do you think you are here for, piccola?”
My heart skips a beat. I look up at him, my hand gripping the hard edge of the table. I bite down on my lower lip and decide to ask him a question that has been haunting me for the past two days.
“Why did you marry me? Why do I feel like there’s so much more to this than just the debt my uncle owes?”
The moment the words leave my mouth, his expression darkens instantly. He drops his fork, causing it to click loudly against the surface.
“And what if there is?” His voice hardens, dropping into a deep, predatory tone.
“Um… I… I have never offended you before, so I don’t understand why this is happening.”
He chuckles, relaxing back into his chair, his eyes burning with hatred as they met mine. “You do not need to know anything, Nadia. All you need to know is that you owe me, and you will surely pay.”
Shock instantly cracks my composure, what does he mean by that?
“But—“
“Just shut up and eat, Nadia,” he commands, cutting me off.
I clamp my mouth shut, forcing my trembling hands to pick up the fork and pick at the food.
Lorenzo leaves the dining hall shortly afterwards without uttering any more word, a group of bodyguards following closely behind him.
Shifting my gaze back to the table, I find my appetite had vanished completely.
I hate him. I really do.
“Mrs Romano?”
I look toward the door to see Clara. She looks relieved and relaxed.
“Mr Romano says we should go to the mall so you can get the necessary things you need.” She explains.
“I’m to buy them on credit? I have no money to buy anything,” I blurt out. He seized my stuff from the plane — my phone, everything. He’s doing all of this just to frustrate me.
“He left you a black card, ma’am.”
My brows knit in confusion. “A black card? Why would he give me a black card?” I was stunned. I am clearly a prisoner here. Who gives their prisoner a black card?
“I… I… he just—“ she stutters.
I look up at her, and from her expression, I know he threatened her again.
“Did he threaten you again?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she whispers.
I sigh in frustration and slowly slid out of the chair. “Let’s go.”
We arrive at the mall after an hour’s drive. I step out of the car, and six hefty bodyguards immediately surround me. I knew I am a prisoner, but six bodyguards is just way too much!
“Mrs Romano, I was informed you’d be coming today. Please, follow me to the VVIP lounge,” a middle-aged man rushes toward us the moment we enter the mall.
According to Clara, the mall had been booked. No one is allowed to enter until I am done shopping — Lorenzo’s orders.
We shop for over two hours, picking out clothes, shoes, bags, jewelry, underwear and other essentials. It is a lot of things that I don’t even want, but according to the manager, Lorenzo had instructed him to give me everything.
One of the guards walks over and hands me a phone. It was still in the box.
“The Don asks that you turn it on and answer the call,” he states plainly before walking away.
I stare down at the phone for a while, then slowly unboxed it. What if I don’t turn it on? Will he kill someone? My eyes drifts to Clara in the corner, who was arranging the items we bought with the manager.
My shaky finger turns on the phone, the moment I did a call came in. My thumb hovers over the answer button. My heart beating fast. It feels like holding a ticking bomb. If I didn’t answer, who would pay for it. Clara? Or Jaxon? Maybe Max?
I swipe across the screen, bringing the phone to my ear, my voice barely a whisper. “Hello?”
“It took you exactly forty seconds to turn that device on and answer, piccola,” Lorenzo’s smooth but dangerous baritone echoes on the other side of the line. I could hear the faint sounds of papers rustling in the background. “A habit you will need to get rid of, or I would do it for you.”
“I… I had to unbox it,” I stammer, hating how easily he could make me sound so small. “Why are you doing all of these? The shopping… locking down a whole mall? And a black card? I really don’t understand you.”
A low, dark chuckle vibrates through the line, sending a chill down my spine.
“Do not mistake any of this for generosity, Nadia,” he says, his tone turning ice-cold. “You are a Romano now, whether you like it or not, I’ll not have my wife walking around looking like a charity case. It reflects poorly on my name.”
“Your wife?” I choke out, tears of frustration burning my vision. “Is that what I am to you? Because this feels like a gilded cage!”
“Then get used to the bars,” he replies, unfazed by my outburst. “Because you are never leaving it.”
I was stunned.
“Are you done shopping?” His voice echoes again.
“Yes,” I mumble, biting my lower lip.
“Good. The guards will bring you back. I expect you to be dressed in something befitting of your new status. We have guests arriving for dinner tonight.”
My heart stops. “Guests? Who?”
“People you need to impress,” Lorenzo says, his voice dropping to a low, authoritative tone. “Do not embarrass me, Nadia. You know what happens if you do.”
The line went dead before I could utter another word. I lower the phone slowly and stare at the black screen. Don. He saved his name as Don. A vivid reminder of who he was.
“Mrs Romano?” Clara’s gentle voice breaks through my thoughts. She looks at me with a mixture of pity and anxiety. “The guards are outside waiting, are you ready to leave?”
My eyes drifts to the towering racks of designer clothes and the mountain of shopping bags the mall staff were loading onto carts. All of this luxury, and none of it belongs to me. I am just a doll he wants to dress up for his own twisted games.
“Yes, Clara.” I say, putting the phone into my new handbag. I force a reassuring smile for her sake. “Let’s go back.”
- Writer
