Bound to the Don

Chapter 41

"Third person POV"

Armando didn't say a word.  He just stood there, staring at her with that same cold, unreadable gaze.

It made her feel small. Like she didn't belong in that garden. Like she didn't even belong in her own skin.

Her breath caught, and without thinking, she stood up quickly, abandoning the rose where it fell from her fingers to the grass below.

And then, just like that, he turned.

No gesture. No command.

He simply walked away, leaving her there with confusion coiling like a snake in her chest.

But of course, she followed.

She always did.

Her footsteps were hesitant, careful, as if distance alone could shield her from what lay ahead. She didn't walk beside him, she walked behind him, like a shadow trying not to be noticed. Every part of her braced, heart pounding in her chest, because with Armando... nothing was ever certain.

The last time he led her somewhere unfamiliar, it was to that room.

The one with the mirror.

A room that tore something open inside her without ever laying a hand on her.

He'd made her look at herself ... openly, vulnerably and say out loud the things she hated most. Things she buried deep enough to pretend they didn't exist. And somehow, through his quiet, cruel manipulation, he'd made her feel seen.

Not hurt. Not humiliated.

And she hated him for it.

Because it made her vulnerable. It peeled away the walls she worked so hard to build in this place. That mirror stripped her more than any blade could.

And now... here she was again, walking behind the devil who could shatter her without touching her. Going somewhere she didn't recognize. Somewhere she didn't choose.

And the worst part of it was that, a part of her wasn't just scared.

A part of her was curious.

And that terrified her even more.

As they walked deeper into the mansion, past halls she didn't recognize, corners she never dared to explore. Salma's nerves pulled tighter with every step.

She thought maybe he was taking her back.

Back to that room. The one with the mirror. The one that cracked something inside her she was still trying to piece back together.

To another one of his sick games.

But they passed it.

And kept walking.

Now she was confused... and more afraid. Because with Armando, silence was never just silence, it was the calm before a storm you never saw coming. His unpredictability scared her more than his anger ever could.

And then they stopped.

In front of a set of tall glass doors.