Page 41 of Beneath the Shadows

“Don’t get fucking smart with me,” he growls, his voice rising. “You know what I expect,” he says, his voice raising with each word. “Take off your clothes. Now.”

My hands shake as I fumble with the buttons on my blouse. Valentino watches, his eyes gleaming with a predatory intensity. My fingers move to the zipper of my skirt, but my hands are trembling so badly that I can’t get a grip on it.

“Move faster,” Valentino snaps, stepping closer.

I’m finally able to unzip my skirt and let it drop to the floor.

“All of it,” he commands.

I swallow hard, my mouth dry as I reach behind to unclasp my bra. It falls to the floor quickly, followed by my panties. I stand there, naked and vulnerable, forcing myself to keep my chin held high. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break.

Valentino’s eyes rake over me with a twisted satisfaction. “Bend over the bench.”

I hesitate for just a second before moving across the room. The spanking bench stands like an ominous figure, always there, a reminder of his control. I fold my body over the center, gripping the handles on the other side, my legs splayed on the rests. My heart races in my chest as I wait for him to unleash whatever cruelty he has in mind.

The first strike of the paddle takes my breath away, the sting sharp and searing. Tears well in my eyes, but I blink them back. He wants to see me cry, but I won’t give him that satisfaction. Another strike follows, then another, each blow harder than the last, each strike punctuated by his harsh breathing.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he stops. My body shakes uncontrollably, and my skin burns. Slowly, I push myself up from the bench, turning to face him. His eyes are cold, but there’s a glint of satisfaction in them—like he’s accomplished something.

“Remember this,” he says, voice low and threatening. “Next time you think about defying me.”

I don’t respond. I simply stare back at him, my silence a small act of defiance.

“I’m going out,” Valentino declares and turns, leaving the room. The door slamming shut behind him.

For a long moment, I stand there, my body throbbing with pain. Slowly, I gather my clothes, my mind racing. I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep letting him control me, hurt me.

Somehow, I have to find a way to escape this hell I’m living.

Antonio

The blonde I brought from the club pushes up on her elbow, watching as I remove the condom and toss it into the wastebasket beside the bed. I never bring anyone to my apartment. That space is mine, untouched by the women I entertain for a night. Using our hotel helps keep them away from my real life—no strings attached.

“I’ll have my driver take you home,” I say, picking up her discarded clothes from the floor and handing them to her.

“I don’t have anywhere else to be,” she purrs, biting her bottom lip as her eyes rake over my naked body. “Wouldn’t you rather I stay for a while?”

I shake my head, giving her a tight smile. "I prefer to be alone."

She sits up, the look in her eyes shifting from sultry to slightly wounded. “Is it something I did?” she asks, frowning as she pulls her top over her head.

“No,” I say, keeping my tone neutral as I step into my boxers. “It’s not you.”

Her frown deepens, clearly not used to this kind of rejection. “You’re really not going to let me stay?”

I suppress a sigh. This part is always tedious. “I’m not. But my driver will make sure you get home safely.”

She narrows her eyes, her irritation flaring. “You know, most guys would kill to have someone like me in their bed.”

“I’m not most guys.”

She huffs but doesn’t argue further, slipping on her clothes with sharp, irritated movements. Fully dressed, she grabs her purse and turns to me. “I had a good time last night,” she says, her voice softer now, almost pleading.

“So did I,” I offer, not wanting to be a complete asshole.

When I don’t say anything more, she gets the hint and heads toward the door. I follow, making sure she has everything before she steps into the hallway. My driver’s already waiting outside, as per my text. As soon as she’s out the door, I gather my things to head home.

An email notification pops up on my phone. Hoping it’s the message I’ve been waiting for, I click the icon, my heart racing as I read the subject line. I quickly open the email, my eyes scanning the text.

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