Betrothed to the Mafia boss

Chapter 14

Camila

I hate the way I feel around Antonio. The way he makes me cower. The way my body shivers at the intensity of his dark eyes burning into my soul. Most of all, I hate that he's in control. The fear that enveloped me when he aimed the gun at my forehead was immeasurable. All this time, I had told myself he might just be bluffing. After all, he couldn't do anything to me the other night. But seeing the gun in his hand and the seriousness in his eyes when he threatened to shoot me, I realized that Antonio is far more dangerous than I had ever thought.

How did my life ended up taking such a difficult drastic turn? From being a carefree business analyst, to being caged into a dangerous mafia world. And a wife to a monster. Yes. I see Antonio as a monster without a heart.

My eyes remained glued to the window as we drove to wherever Antonio was taking me. He kept making calls, shouting and swearing in Italian. I might not understand the language, but the clenching of his jaw and the darkness in his eyes told me that whoever was on the other end, they wouldn't like what he had in store for them.

The car finally came to a halt after what felt like hours. We had passed through trees before the city came into view. With my heart pounding in my chest, I didn't focus on the surroundings. What was there to explore when I was forced into this against my will? I hadn't even been able to inform my parents about my departure, and I was sure Antonio wouldn't bother to tell them. He had that power, the power to control things, whether willingly or unwillingly. It was something that now haunted my thoughts. Antonio was relentless.

"Get out of the car!" I practically flinched at his sharp tone piercing my eardrums. He was still furious, and I was afraid that if I didn't behave, whatever I'd get in return wouldn't be good. It didn't matter whether we were in public or not.

I pulled open the car door and stepped out. The night breeze was anything but comforting against my skin, especially in my sleeveless, knee-length dress. It wasn't like I'd worn it deliberately to provoke Antonio; I simply liked wearing what made me feel comfortable.

However, I didn't expect that to trigger Antonio's anger. Why did he care when that's what he wanted – a perfect wife? I might as well give him an example of one. Like he said, I was stubborn. No matter how much he tried to instill fear in my heart, I could still do as I pleased. He couldn't change that about me.

I hadn't realized where we were until Antonio pushed open the glass doors. A boutique? "What are we doing here?" I asked, turning to give him a puzzled look.

"You're not going around in this outfit," he stated, his eyes appraising my attire with disapproval.

"This is comfortable for me. I don't need a new outfit," I declared defiantly. Antonio didn't respond; instead, he walked away. I bit my bottom lip, wondering what he was up to now.

"Good day, Sir. How may I—" The sales associate began but got cut off by Antonio.

"Bring me all the dresses you have, full-length dresses," he ordered. I was sure she understood what he wanted by the way he shot her a stern look.

"Please follow me." She gestured toward the clothing racks and proceeded to show us around. Antonio did the work of selecting the outfits, and it seemed like he had chosen at least fifteen to twenty dresses.

"Go and try them on," he instructed, gesturing toward the fitting rooms. I hesitated; our eyes were locked in a silent battle. He was giving me the unmistakable look that said, 'Don't you dare defy my orders.'

I could feel the gaze of the sales associate on us, and I knew that defying Antonio's orders wouldn't change his plans. I dropped my gaze and followed the lady toward the changing rooms. I began by trying on the first batch of dresses, all of which were black and devoid of any revealing features. They weren't too tight nor too loose, covering my body adequately.

"Don't you think these are too conservative?" I asked the sales associate as I tried on the seventh or maybe the ninth dress. I had lost count of the number of outfits I had tried on, and Antonio had personally inspected each one.

She was about to reply when her gaze shifted to Antonio, and she quickly nodded, offering a polite smile. "Leave this one on, and we'll pack the rest. Let's move!" He stood up, adjusting his suit and glancing at his wristwatch.

"Right away, sir." I watched as the woman hurried off. Then, I bit my lower lip and approached Antonio.

"Why are you doing this?" I questioned, walking up to him.

"Because I have the right to. And don't you dare look at me with those eyes, thinking it will work on me. I won't pity you," he retorted sternly. I gasped at his response, realizing that expecting pity from a man who had already shown his ruthlessness was a futile hope.

Silence hung in the air as we waited for the sales associate to return with the bags. When she did, Antonio further surprised me by instructing her to hand the bags to me. "Give her the bags."

The woman cast a sympathetic look my way. Anger surged within me, but I had to swallow it. Causing a scene here would not be in my best interest, and I was certain that Antonio could easily handle any objection.

I collected the bags, which were surprisingly heavy, and managed to offer her a smile. Antonio had already left the boutique by the time I turned around to follow suit. I reached the entrance, where the changing rooms connected to the clothing section when my legs abruptly halted. I can't let Antonio get away with his controlling behavior.

Turning back, I called out to the sales associate, "Can you do me a favor?" I asked.

As I stepped inside the car, I knew that whatever Antonio decided to do to me, I had brought it upon myself. The way his eyes met mine was far from good. "What the hell are you wearing!" He seethed, sending shivers down my spine. I braced myself, knowing I was in for trouble.

"A dress, of course. The perfect outfit to seal your business deal," I replied, instantly regretting my words. Antonio yanked me forward, his nails digging into my face.

"You must be stupid! Didn't I give you something to wear? What is this nonsense!" The pain from his nails and the pressure of his body against me were excruciating, but I refused to give him the satisfaction.

I managed to offer a defiant smile. "The nonsense you wanted," I retorted. The next thing that came from him was a stinging slap across my face.

Before I could react, he yanked me by the arm once more, this time exposing the arms that were now adorned in a much more revealing dress. I knew there would be consequences when I changed out of the dress Antonio had selected for me, but I hadn't expected this. The new dress clung to every curve of my body.

"I will deal with you later. Move the car!" His eyes bore into me again, the danger in them far more intense than usual. He meant what he said. Would he actually go through with his threats? Would he shoot me as he had threatened earlier or subject me to torture?

What had I gotten myself into, Camila?

My body felt weak as I contemplated the possible horrors Antonio might unleash upon me. The man was clearly unhinged. As the car arrived at our destination, a secluded place radiating an aura of danger, I realized we had reached a casino. I began to open the car door, but Antonio beat me to it. When had he left his side of the car?

He jerked me out by the wrist and started dragging me inside. "Can you be gentle, please," I whispered, struggling to keep up with his fast pace.

In a matter of what I could only describe as two seconds, he pinned my hand behind my back, and his furious eyes bore into my head. "You want me to be gentle, right?" He seethed.

"By the time I'm done with this pretty face of yours, you'll know I'm not a man to be messed with. You want to act like a whore here, go ahead and do so. But remember, if you create a scene here, I won't just torture you. I'll ensure your father's company never sees the light of day again." I bit my lower lip as his words sank in. Antonio meant every word he said. What more danger had I ventured into?