Page 33 of Brutal Vows

He’s right. I’m still mummified in the blanket.

My face heats with a blush. I wriggle my arms free and clear my throat.

“Stress affects sleeping habits and I was exhausted. Sorry,” I say.

I freeze when he reaches toward my face, torn between swatting his hand away and leaning into his touch. Starting the day with violence doesn’t bode well for my first full day in captivity, but with my defenses down from the best night of sleep I’ve had in over eight months, I’m scared I won’t be able to resist him.

He cups the side of my face and brushes his thumb along my cheek.

“I’m glad you slept well,gattina. You’re going to need it for what I’m going to do to you tonight.”

My heart pounds against my sternum and heat arrows to my core. I squeeze my fists in the blankets and hold his stare despite my insides trembling.

When I neither argue nor relent, he smirks and moves away.

“Get dressed. We’re leaving,” he says before walking into the hall and locking the door behind him.

I stare at the space I last saw him for a moment. His ass looks way too good in sweats. I bet it looks impossibly better in a suit.

I clear my throat and struggle my way into a seated position.

While I slept like a swaddled baby in the middle of the bed, he pushed the dresser back against the wall, placed a change of clothes for me on the corner of the bed, and left a steaming mug of coffee on the bedside table.

I blink and scowl as my heart melts. He kidnapped me. I shouldn’t trust him. Taking his gestures as acts of kindness is just wrong. He’s obligated to provide food and drink for me since I have no way of getting it myself.

Except what other brutal mafia man would also braid my hair, sleep on the floor, and allow me as much privacy as he has?

I swallow the sudden lump in my throat and push the tendril of hair that escaped from my braid behind my ear and glance at the camera.

He could be watching right now, but I don’t think he is. If he was that much of a creep, he would’ve made me shower with the curtain open and gawked at me the entire time.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, realize my shoes sit on the floor, and grab the stack of clothes. At first confusion then anger spears through me as I realize he gave me a pair of my boxer briefs, jeans, and socks, but no shirt or bra. Which means he wants me to wear his oversized shirt all day. Braless.

I glance down and silently curse my stiff nipples. Even through the black fabric, they’re obvious.

Whatever. This is not a battle I’m willing to fight. It’s not worth earning his ire or jeopardizing my sister’s safety, so I pull on my socks, thread my legs into my panties and jeans, slip my feet into my sneakers, then stand and pull them both up in onemotion, using the oversized shirt as coverage just in case he is watching through the camera.

My bladder complains. I eye the coffee. It smells amazing, but I can’t risk it yet.

I knock on the door and step back. A few seconds later, Ermanno opens the door and leans on the frame with his eyes roaming over me. My heart leaps into my throat at the hunger in his gaze.

“I need the toilet,” I say.

He stands and gestures for me to lead him down the hall. I sigh a silent breath of relief when he shuts the bathroom door between us.

“You have five minutes,mia gattina, then I’m coming in after you,” he says.

His voice carries clear through the thin material. He probably has a key nearby, but even if he doesn’t, he’d have no problem breaking the door down.

I grunt in acceptance and rush through taking care of business. Even though the five minutes aren’t up, he opens the door when I turn off the sink after washing my hands.

He crosses his arms over his chest and studies the bathroom before turning his focus to me.

Alarm spears through me when he stalks into the bathroom, overwhelming the space with his bulk, and grabs me by the shoulders. I drop one shoulder and jab my elbow toward his stomach, but he expects my strike and blocks with his forearm while moving back.

“Mia gattinais feisty this morning, isn’t she?”

He turns on the sink and takes a can of hair mousse from the back of the counter without touching me.

---