Mia’s POV
After that night a lot of things changed, the most noticeable one being that my kidnapper finally allowed me to leave my room and explore other parts of the mansion.
Of course, he restricted some places and told me to never go there unless I was tired of breathing and wanted to retire.
Then I was able to confirm that his name was Lorenzo from when his people spoke of him. Honestly, I preferred it when I was locked up in my room because everyone was looking at me as if I was some kind of circus animal, some with curiosity and some with disgust and hate.
Meanwhile, I was literally the victim here.
I was the one who had been kidnapped on her wedding night.
And I had the feeling that somebody was always watching me, as if they were taking turns in observing my every movement.
My kidnapper, Lorenzo, also insisted that I should be eating with him whenever he found it suitable for him, meaning that sometimes I would be allowed to eat in my room but most of the time I would have to come down to the dining room to eat with him.
I knew that the only reason why he did this was probably to make me uncomfortable and to also relish in my extreme discomfort and fear.
He was sick in the head like that.
A few days after that awful night that I had desperately hoped was nothing but a dream, the maid that usually brought food to my bedroom came to announce that I was going to dine with that monster again that morning, and of course, I shouldn’t waste his time and hurry down.
So, even though my body was trembling and my only wish was to stay as far away from that man as possible, I washed up and dressed in a couple of minutes and almost had to run down so that I wouldn’t arrive at the dining table late, but I had already sat down for more than quarter of an hour before he finally strolls into the dining room looking like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Well, except for the stain of blood that was on his cheek that he was casually dabbing with a piece of tissue then he threw it into the nearest dustbin and I felt like throwing up the food that I had not even eaten yet.
I don’t feel hungry any longer.
“You look very pale this morning…” he wasn’t saying it out of concern. I knew he was just saying it so that I would be very much aware that I looked like a fish out of water.
As the cook served the food for breakfast, I found myself staring at the delicacies that were placed in front of me but I did not have the slightest urge to even pinch it, talk less of actually putting it in my mouth and swallowing it.
“I don’t waste food in my house,” Lorenzo said to me as he was already feasting on his, and I knew that that was a warning for me to begin eating but the moment I picked up the fork it immediately slept past my trembling fingers.
“Pick that up and start eating,” He said to me in a commanding tone not minding that I was shaking like someone that had been stuffed into a fridge for hours and then before I could even consider what I was doing next around my face slammed against the polished wood that served as the dining table.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I said in a voice that was more sad than furious.
“Why are you making me suffer like this? Why did you kidnap me if you hate me so much? Why didn’t you just kill me the way you killed your men that night?”
He froze for about a second and then gently dropped to the fork that was in his grip and then those fingers shot out like lightning bolts, grabbing my chin and pulling me close with almost enough force to send my neck napping.
“Are your ears open? Because I need you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to tell you. Frankly, your life depends on it.”
And then his fingers began to tighten against my cheeks and I felt like crying out but my eyes remained fixed on him as if they were holding his eyes hostage.
“I hate Gonzale, I hate him with every fiber of my being that makes me a man…”
His voice was burning with so much emotion as if he had been holding this back from the moment that he met me or maybe even longer than that.
I flinched as he spoke. He hated my father?
“The moment I took you away from that pig that you were married to, you became mine. Yes, your life became my property and I will do with it what I see fit, whether you like it or not…”
After saying that, he shoved my face away, and I felt like bursting into tears but I had a feeling that if I did so he would have something else to laugh about, so instead I kept it to myself and buried those tears at the corner of my eyes not allowing them to escape because I didn’t want to give him another avenue to make fun of me.
That’s it, I can’t do this anymore.
If he hated me as passionately as he did and life was so little to him then why didn’t he just end me?
I was scared of dying, obviously, but this wasn’t living.
Waking up in fear and constantly waiting for him to get bored and put a bullet in my brain wasn’t ‘living’.
I barely get enough sleep, due to the numbers of gunshots that I heard in the night and the screams of dying men, and the other noises that I could not decipher but they were born out of violence.
Sometimes, the fear of Lorenzo himself keeps me awake all night long.
As I later started eating my food, shoving down every morsel without tasting anything, I calmly told myself in my thoughts that I was going to leave this place.
I was going to escape this prison even if it was the last thing I did.