Page 36 of Nights At Sea

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I need to reel in the turbulent emotions bombarding me or I’ll never be able to think clearly.

He has taken away my liberty, but for him it just seems to be par for the course. He truly seems to expect me to just accept this and be happy to go back to the way things were.

Unbelievable.

Who thinks like that?

Someone who’s used to getting what he wants.

I might be completely out of my element. I might not have any idea how to deal with him, but I have a choice right now.

He wants me at dinner? Well, that’s not going to happen.

Screw him!

Chapter Nine

Ella

Myrebelliondidn’tlastlong.

When Mariella came to collect me and I told her once again, I wasn’t going, I thought I had won this little round of butting heads with Gualtiero.

Five minutes later, two servers arrived in my room and set up a dinner table. And shortly thereafter Gualtiero arrived with a triumphant smile on his face.

Argh! That man!

He’s so infuriating!

Gualtiero pours me a glass of wine. A selection of food is spread out on a side table, the delicious aroma drifting through the air, making my stomach rumble.

Ah well, I might as well eat something. Plus, I have a few things to say. And I don’t bother with niceties. He doesn’t deserve them.

“I want my luggage back.” Why not get right to it?

Gualtiero looks surprised. I guess he didn’t expect this topic of conversation. I’m sure in his mind I should be thrilled with the designer wardrobe.

“Why? Do you not like your new things? If that’s the case, I’m happy to take you shopping to buy whatever you desire.”

“For the record, I hate shopping,” I state without fuss. “And I desire my own clothes. And some of my toiletries are missing. I want them back.”

Namely, my birth control pills. I haven’t been able to take them since my abduction, and this makes me nervous on many fronts. If he was to force himself on me, the last thing I want is for a child to be the by-product of this insanity.

I wish I’d listened to Rhia when she tried to convince me to get a shot instead. It would have protected me for a few months without having to worry about forgetting to take that little pill every day or its effectiveness if I got sick. But aren’t you always wiser in hindsight?

“I’d like my workout gear, yoga pants, and my shorts,” I say, trying to stay calm as I speak.

“I will get Mariella to pick you up some new exercise clothes.”

“Argh! Gualtiero, I want my own clothes. What’s wrong with you?” I cry out, exasperated.

He looks at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable as usual.

“They’re part of your old life. That life no longer exists,” he explains, as if I was a little child. “You’re my queen, Ella. And you only wear the finest.”

Under normal circumstances, a declaration like this would melt my heart and make me swoon. Right now, it only serves to infuriate me further.

---