"It's good to finally meet you, little one," he says in his dark voice. The sound of it raises goosebumps over my flesh and I shiver, making him smirk at me. "You're excited, aren't you?"
I don't dare respond to his question. Instead of waiting for my answer, the man turns to Sophia who is still kneeling next to us. "That'll be all."
Sophia doesn't walk – she crawls out of the room, making me even more fearful of what's about to happen.
"Now, usually," Angelo goes on. "I would have a girl kneel by my feet while I explain the rules. But since you haven't been ah… broken in properly like the rest of them, I'll give you the courtesy of sitting down."
He leaves no room for argument and firmly pushes me down on a plush velvet chair in front of his desk while he sits on the other side, folding his hands together. Everything about him screams power and exudes confidence. But not in the way Ryder does, no. Angelo seems... crueler. Devoid of any emotion, with lifeless eyes that could kill. But I don't think his eyes are the ones doing the torture... As my gaze glides over his tattooed knuckles and inked skin, I have a feeling Angelo isn't one for mindfucks – I think he prefers to take it out on a woman with his hands.
His knuckles whiten as if he's caught me looking, and I guiltily turn my attention back to his face.
"Don't get distracted, little one," he reminds me coolly. "I don't want to have to punish you already."
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Excuse me?"
He sighs, rubbing his temples. "You call me Signore, Aurora. Try it out now. Sorry, what?"
"Sorry, Signore," I mutter, hating every syllable that leaves my reluctant lips. This guy is fucking crazy. My heart yearns for Ryder. Does he even know where I am? Is he going to save me?
"That's better. Now, the rules. You will address me as Signore for the duration of your stay here. If you behave, that stay will be filled with certain pleasures you may enjoy. If you don't... you won't be staying here long. I don't tolerate disrespect from my girls. But be careful, because my friends are worse than me, and you'd be better off staying here. Understood?"
I nod, feeling paralyzed. I was right. This man is emotionless, a psychopath.
"The other rule is the schedule. You will receive the details from Sophia soon. Meals happen in the cafeteria, you have designated time to work out, be outside and read or write, perhaps draw. You will also need to be always available to me. If I send for you, you will drop whatever you are doing and come to me. No exceptions. Understood?"
Once again, I nod numbly. "What is this place?"
"You don't need to concern yourself with that," he smiles broadly. "Let's just say I love beautiful women, and I love to break them even more. I think you'll enjoy it here."
"What about..." I swallow thickly, glancing around the empty room. "What about me? Are you going to marry me?"
Angelo laughs jovially as if I've just told him a hilarious joke. "Don't be silly, little one. You're not here to be married. You're here to be fucked."
My blood chills at the thought as he picks himself up from behind the desk and crosses to my side. He leans against the desk and undresses me with his eyes, asking, "Well?"
"Sorry, Signore?"
"The dress." He snaps his fingers. "Take it off. Now."
I want to object but my mind won't let me. Self-preservation instincts kick in and I pick myself up, undoing the straps of my dress and allowing it to pool on the floor at my feet. Signore watches me impassively, making a hand gesture for me to stand before him and spin. I do as I'm told, flushing from the shame of it all.
I want Ryder. I've never wanted him more. This man scares me, and I want Ryder to come here and save me before something terrible happens. I already know this won't end well.
"How long have you been pregnant?"
In shock, I raise my eyes to the man before me who's watching and inspecting my body with clinical precision.
"H-How did you know?" I manage to get out. I should lie. I should hide it better. But I can't, I can already tell this dangerous man will be able to see straight through me.
He doesn't answer, but his expression turns stormier by the second. "How long, Aurora?"
"I-I don't know." Self-consciously, I smooth a hand over my stomach. "I haven't seen a doctor yet. My period is late."
"Merda," he curses softly. "You didn't tell anyone about this?"
"No," I shake my head, my bottom lip trembling. "I didn't know what to do... who to trust..."
He smashes a glass off his desk and I scream out loud, the amber liquid of his drink seeping into the expensive rug the desk sits on. My heart hammers in my chest.