Chapter Three
The bloody sheets had already been presented, and fortunately, Giovanni had said her presence wasn’t required. It was only in rare circumstances that the bride had to be present.
Valentina had been to a few of those occasions and had always felt for the woman who had to deal with the men’s constant leering.
The sheets were hung up in her father’s living room over the fireplace. She had seen them as she passed the room. It was … gross. She didn’t even want to think of the men who enjoyed seeing the evidence of their coupling last night. There wasn’t just blood. There was also his cum, as he’d wanted to make sure their combined releases smeared the blanket.
Her cheeks heated as she thought about how he’d asked her to sit up, to allow his cum to spill out of her.
What embarrassed her even more was the fact she’d been aroused by his request. What was wrong with her? What woman got turned on at knowing a man wanted their release to be visible?
“I want the men to know who you belong to. Whose spunk is deep inside your cunt, baby.” Those were his words from last night.
After he’d been satisfied, he had taken the time to clean her. They had stripped the bed of the bloody sheets and made the bed together. The bedroom had been prepared for their wedding night, and a padded sheet had been placed underneath to protect the mattress.
She had to give the maids credit for preparing everything.
Sipping at her orange juice, Valentina stared out across the garden of her family home. She had never treated it as a place to have fun. Whenever she had tried to play with her brother, her father had been there, spanking her ass for even daring to make much noise.
As a young girl, she’d been trained to not be seen and to certainly not be heard. Even now, while the men congratulated Giovanni on his conquest, she was alone in the gardens, enjoying the fresh air and peace and quiet. The women had already looked at her, wondering how she had survived the night.
Most new brides came down with more bruises, having to wear long t-shirts to hide the fact they’d been pushed down and forced.
Valentina hadn’t been forced. She had welcomed Giovanni. The first time had hurt, of course it had. She had expected it to, and it didn’t come as any surprise to her.
Taking a deep breath, she sipped at her drink.
After they had done their duty, Giovanni had taken her in his arms and held her throughout the night. They had woken this morning, and still, she’d been in the comfort of his arms.
With her drink finished, she placed it on a passing waiter’s tray, offering him a tentative smile as he went by. He kept his head down, not acknowledging her presence. Probably a good thing. Death came to men who showed married women or betrothed girls too much attention. Even the merest hint of a smile could mean death.
Folding her arms across her chest, she stared out at the view, wishing more than anything that she could cause a scene, embarrass her father, or do something to piss him off. He couldn’t hit her anymore.
She was no longer his responsibility but Giovanni’s.
It was irrational of her to even have these thoughts.
“How are you?”
She turned to see Leonardo Rossi approaching her.
There had been a rumor throughout breakfast that he had demanded to see Giovanni’s arms and legs as proof that he had taken her virginity and not cheated them all with the bloody sheets.
“Fine. How are you?”
They had been betrothed for months before it came to an abrupt end, but they rarely spoke a word to one another. Their engagement had been nothing more than a business contract. Her kidnapping had been a blessing to her.
Leonardo was a grade-A asshole.
All her years of training to be ignored and to stay quiet meant she was able to go places where no one seemed to even detect she was there. She had watched Leonardo for years. Not because of any crush, but simply down to the fact she’d been in the wrong places at the wrong times. She’d seen the way he treated women. Heard the tales and gossip from women who talked of his … disgusting desires. How he liked to hit women.
Valentina had seen it herself.
After using the bathroom on the night of their engagement party, she’d been heading downstairs when she saw him with one of the maids, trying to force her. He’d backhanded the maid and said if she didn’t want to get kicked out on the street, she should visit his room that night.
She’d told her mother of what she witnessed. Nothing happened. The following day, Valentina saw the girl with a swollen eye and bruises covering her arms.
People had thought she was upset at losing him as a husband. No, she had been relieved. She was only angry that she had no power. No way to stop him from hurting more women.