The next morning, I woke up feeling awful, my entire body aching, even the irises of my eyes. Sitting up in bed carefully, I ended up touching my stomach, which felt like it had been beaten, and it had, and I grimaced, coughing and realizing I'd woken up worse than just having a cold.
The rain… I spent hours in the rain with that man…
I shook my head, embarrassed by my degenerate, depraved, and debauched behavior, remembering all the absurdity we committed, feeling my cheeks burn with anger for not being able to hold myself back and giving in to him, now noticing all the signs of that true madness on my body. In a cemetery… I had sex with Ângelo on a tomb in a cemetery during a terrifying storm…
I really went crazy.
With a horrible sensation of cold and discomfort in my body, I pushed the covers aside and tried to muster the strength to stand. On the first attempt, I fell back onto the bed, feeling intense pain in the inner part of my thighs when my feet hit the floor. On the second try, I was weakly strong and managed to take my first steps with my hand on my stomach until I reached the bathroom.
"That bastard literally fucked me up," I say with fury, noticing my voice getting very hoarse, and soon I wouldn't have a voice at all.
I took off my pajamas and went to take a hot shower, but I found myself shivering uncontrollably, as the water felt like it had ice cubes, and I was freezing to death.
Very weak, I pressed my hands against the wall and started coughing, shivering entirely from the cold, trembling miserably.
I need medicine and bed all day.
After taking my shower in that damn torment of pain and coughing, I brushed my teeth and left the bathroom to get dressed. That was when I thanked the heavens for arriving home soaking wet in the early hours of the morning and finding Faruk asleep in the room Ângelo gave him, because I needed to sleep alone in mine. I was burning, in pain, and it felt like a tractor had run over my body. I just didn't expect to wake up sick.
The pain between my legs is enough to make me feel an absurd rage toward that bastard in every cell of my body. It's obvious he did it on purpose. What's the point of asking him to go slow? The guy seems to forget he's got a monster between his legs…
Honestly, all the men I slept with in that brothel, none of them had a cock of that magnitude. And to think that crazy Aurora only liked the "horses" horrifies me.
I end up smiling at my state of calamity. Man, a simple fuck with Ângelo almost sent me to a grave.
I knew something so delicious with that bastard would give me a headache. I just didn't imagine it would be weakness, a cold, the flu, and internal pain.
What the hell!
As soon as I finished putting on new pajamas, the mansion's housekeeper entered the room.
"Sorry. I didn't know the lady was still in the room," the uniformed blonde woman panicked for entering the room. "I just wanted to tidy up the room."
"It's okay," I say with a sore throat, brushing my hair. "I'm not leaving the room today."
"Your voice sounds a bit hoarse. Are you sick?"
"Unfortunately. I got caught in the rain last night."
"I'll have them prepare a tea for you. You'll see, you'll be good as new in no time."
I smile, very grateful. I'd appreciate any care and help; I wanted to get better soon. I hate being sick; it drains all my energy for everything.
"Do you know if my brother Faruk is up?" I ask, placing the hairbrush on the dresser and starting to braid my wet hair.
"He had breakfast and is playing soccer with the guys in the backyard."
Suddenly, I jolt and remember that it's not just cold medicine I need.
I stare at the housekeeper.
"I need to go to the pharmacy," I say nervously.
"What do you need? I can go get it for you," she offered kindly.
I swallow hard, shy and a bit embarrassed about what I was about to ask her, imagining what she'd inevitably think of me. The truth is, I should have gone to the hospital for my contraceptive injection two weeks ago, and with so much crap happening in my life, I completely forgot. And now Ângelo fucked me and didn't even bother to use protection.
Turning to her, I open my mouth and immediately close it, noticing the devil Ângelo at the door with a neutral expression, his hair impeccable, almost shining from how perfectly gelled it was. He looked so elegant in a burgundy dress shirt that hugged his strong chest, the sleeves rolled up to the middle of his arms, and two buttons undone, making him more sensual than charming—or both, and then some.
My curious gaze admired how marvelous that combination of the dark burgundy shirt with the black dress pants and a glossy leather belt in the same color looked. Even though I closed my mouth, which had dropped in damn reverence for that beautiful bastard with tanned skin, I blamed myself for showing any admiration for the soul-devouring, predatory male standing there. But it was impossible not to admire him, because his final move was that pose with his hands in his pants pockets, leaning against the doorframe, looking at me with some unknown darkness in a permanent and lasting way.
The son of a bitch was too gorgeous… that was a fact.
"Leave us alone," was one of his many demands to the housekeeper.
Without hesitation, she nodded and, with her head down, left the room immediately, as if any delay could upset him.
Then I saw him close the door and come toward me, stopping right in front of me and observing my entire face, sizing me up.
"What do you want?" I ask with little patience.
"You got sick," he noticed, and his hand touched my neck, checking if I had a fever.
"Let go of me," I pushed him before the bastard noticed I'd get goosebumps from his touch.
I walk to the bed, making a great effort not to let the sound of the pain I feel in my lower body slip out, pain that this bastard caused.
"What were you going to ask the housekeeper?"
I sit down.
"I don't think it's something the invaluable Ângelo Fontana would care about," I retort.
"I saw on the cameras that you woke up feeling terrible and walking slowly. You look completely fucked up."
With that, I glared at him furiously.
"Of course, you fuck like the world's about to end."
"In a cemetery, everything's already over, don't you think?" he mocked. "I thought you wouldn't be able to walk, but I see I was even gentle with you."
"Wow. I'm touched by so much gentleness on your part," I touch my chest, mocking him.
"I've already ordered a doctor to come take care of you," he revealed. I stay silent. "I can buy whatever it is you need so badly."
I look at him.
"You came…"
He laughed and approached, crouching down and touching my knees.
"Don't worry about that. I don't have kids… I can't have kids anymore," he confided, and I furrowed my brow, confused but with no interest in knowing about his personal life. "And I'm clean."
"Hard to believe when you were frequenting a brothel," I roll my eyes.
"Relax, I saved all 25 centimeters of my cock just for you," the sarcasm of this man got on my nerves. He was acidic, ironic, and mocking to a degree that made me want to kill him. His gaze lingered on mine for a long time; he always looked into my eyes like that, lingering. He said my eyes were like an owl's… he's completely nuts.
The door opening startled me, and looking to see who was coming in, I was confused to see one of the hitmen living in the mansion. Hitman 27.
"Lavínia…" he stopped himself upon seeing Ângelo in my room.
I quickly stand up.
"Is my brother okay?" I worry, rushing toward him.
"Yes. I just came to invite you to have breakfast with me," he said, his gaze fixed on Ângelo, who was walking with powerful strides behind me. "I thought you'd already be on the jet," the hitman said to him.
Jet… Ângelo's leaving?
I'm shocked when Ângelo grabbed his friend by the neck and choked him against the wall with such force that the man's body lifted off the ground.
"You're forbidden from entering her room," Ângelo's voice was like thunder. He seemed possessed. Then he pushed his friend out the door and slammed it in his face, looking at me and smirking with so much scorn that it infuriated me.
My eyes burn, and I blink, definitely in disarray.
"What's your problem?" I shout, euphoric.
"Just because you lived in a brothel doesn't mean my house will turn into a mess. I want respect in this damn place. No men coming in here," he practically roared.
"And what are you doing here? Get out," I exploded, ignoring my sore throat and aching body. I storm over and open the door.
"Don't forget there are cameras everywhere, and I'll know if you're trying to flirt with one of my hitmen."
What?
The bastard proved to be absolutely worthless, because the moment I thought he'd walk through the door, the wretch grabbed my neck in a swift move and pushed me against the wall, pinning me there without caring about how much pain I was already in.
"You're a delight when you're quiet," he whispered behind my ear.
I try to break free, but it's a foolish affront to the size of this jerk. The guy is broad, strong, and tall.
"You're hurting me, you sicko," I shouted, banging on the wall, wanting this asshole to let me go.
Suddenly, I was scandalized when his large hands fastened something around my neck. He releases me, and I immediately turn around, touching my neck and running to the mirror.
"What the hell is this?" I'm screaming, my eyes flooded with tears of rage and my trembling hands touching a leather choker around my neck.
He made his presence known and stood behind me; I could see his impenetrable face in the mirror. His tall, immensely strong body pressed against mine, and his chin rested on my head because the bastard was taller.
"A collar for a beautiful bitch," he kissed my hair.
I pull, tug, and do everything to rip off that damn accessory.
"Ângelo… Why?" I close my eyes and cry, bewildered.
"Because you're mine, and I'm your only master."
"Take it off… for God's sake, take it off…" I panic, turning to him and looking at him in anguish. He shook his head, unsettling me by denying my request. "What the hell is this? What does it mean?"
"Save your tears, Lavínia," he touched my cheek, and I flinch. "This won't interfere with your life at all. It's just a tracking device. I'm going to travel, and I don't know how long I'll be gone, and as I said, I'll do everything to keep you safe."
I hope you die… you bastard.
"You have no idea how much I hate you for being such a son of a bitch," I practically tear at my neck, struggling to rip off the collar this bastard fastened around it. Without me expecting it, a damn shock gripped my throat, delivering a painful sting. My eyes widen, and I cry. "Ouch…"
"Don't try to get rid of it; you'll only hurt yourself more," Ângelo kissed my forehead. "It'll be an honor to control my little pet."
Before I could kick him in the balls, he turned his back on me, leaving the damn woody, intriguing scent of his cologne lingering in my nose and the room.
I'm indignant and trembling with rage. What does he think I am?
Furious, I run to the door and slam it hard, nearly breaking it down.
"Son of a bitch!" I caress my neck, feeling the collar and realizing I can't cut it because the damn thing is made of iron inside.