OLEANDER
I didn’t accept his brunch invitation.
I couldn’t bring myself to.
The thought of sitting at the same table as my enemy, sharing a meal with the man who held me captive, filled me not only with anger but with nausea.
So I stayed in the room.
Right there in the corner where he’d left me.
Crying.
Thinking about my life and how impossible it would be to escape from the monster’s den.
By evening, I had exhausted every ounce of strength from crying.
My head throbbed.
My stomach twisted violently with hunger.
My throat burned with thirst.
Yet I still didn’t move from where I lay.
When night fell, I was ready to die.
The monster holding me captive stepped into the room to end my misery.
I didn’t lift my head when the door opened.
I already knew who it was.
Dante Corsetti.
Somehow, I had memorised his scent.
The quiet ease of his footsteps.
The dark, masculine aura that pressed in on me even from a distance.
I swallowed, wincing at the dryness in my mouth.
“Do you wish to starve yourself, sweetheart?” he asked.
My stomach turned at the endearment.
I hated every one of those words when they came from him because he spoke them with cruelty, not care.
“I’d sooner eat from the devil’s plate than accept anything from you,” I replied.
I thought he hadn’t heard me until he chuckled.
“I’m just being generous, Lea,” he murmured.
The sharp click of his shoes against the marbled floor drew my attention.
I turned my head slightly and saw him shrug out of his jacket, leaving only his pristine white shirt.
He undid three buttons and rolled his sleeves to his elbows, baring strong arms.
Dante stopped in front of me.
He crouched, reaching for me.
I flinched, recoiling into the wall, but that didn’t stop him.
“Even now, face to face with death, you’re still defiant,” Dante murmured, twirling a lock of my hair around his fingers.
“You amuse me, Lea.”
“At least if you’re going to call me by my name, say it fully. I never authorised you to give me a nickname.” My voice wobbled as I spoke.
Dante said nothing.
Instead, he clasped my arm and hoisted me out of the corner.
“Let me go,” I cried, struggling in his grip as he dragged me toward the bed.
My heart kicked up, and all the memories of the night he had used me surged back at once.
I clawed at his fingers, hoping he would release me, but he didn’t.
His grip tightened.
The back of his palm drew blood from my assault, and he only let me go after flinging me onto the bed like a sack of potatoes.
I scrambled up immediately, but Dante blocked my escape, shoving me back against it.
“Please,” I begged, shivering.
I grabbed his duvet and wrapped it around myself, scooting toward the headboard.
Tears blurred my vision, sliding down my cheeks.
“Please, let me go,” I whimpered.
Dante tilted his head to the side, a frown etched on his face as he stared at me.
Then his eyes shifted, and realisation dawned on him.
He scoffed and sank onto the sofa behind him.
“I’m not going to touch you, Oleander,” he murmured.
“Women beg me to put my hands on them, and soon enough, you’ll be doing the same. However, I won’t apologise for what happened the first time. I intended to do that to teach you a lesson.”
I shuddered at his admission.
God, I hated this man.
How long was I going to endure him for?
“I believe hating me makes things easier for you,” he shrugged, “and me using you as much as I desire makes it the same for me. However, today is your lucky day.”
I didn’t understand what he meant, not even when three maids stepped into the room with a food trolley.
I frowned as I watched them set the table, placing different dishes on it one after the other.
I thought Dante had already eaten.
So why was he bringing food now?
I didn’t dwell on it for long because the moment they were done, Dante beckoned to me with a flick of his finger.
“Come here, love,” he said.
I ignored him, shaking my head.
Dante sighed softly, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Perhaps you want me to drag you out of bed myself. If you don’t obey, the consequences will be far more severe.”
I gulped, shivering in fear.
When I saw him dip his hand into his pocket, I hurriedly scooted closer, terrified he was about to pull out a gun and shoot me.
“Good girl,” he smirked, dimples, just like Celina’s, indenting his cheeks.
Beautiful and cruel.
I loathed him despite his looks.
Maybe I should start writing down all the things I hated about him.
That might comfort me in this shithole I was trapped in.
Dante opened one of the plates. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
A platter of roasted beef, a plate filled with creamy potatoes, steamed vegetables, a loaf of bread, a bottle of red wine, and water.
My mouth watered as I stared at it, and my stomach gave a low growl, reminding me how hungry I was.
I forced myself to look away, pretending not to care.
“Eat,” he ordered.
“I don’t like my woman to be skinny.”
I scoffed, rolling my eyes.
“I’m not your woman. Eat your food yourself.”
Dante chuckled.
He still didn’t get mad.
I guessed I was entertaining him well enough.
“Look at me,” he said.
I refused.
“Oleander,” he growled, his voice low with warning.
I spared him the quickest glance, then looked away again.
A short silence settled between us.
I thought he’d given up until he spoke once more.
“It’s either you start digging in, or I ask them to tie you up and shove every bit of food into your mouth until you’re full and nauseated.”
That did it.
I couldn’t ignore the threat in his tone.
And I was too hungry and weak to think straight.
I ate like I hadn’t eaten in my entire life, wolfing down every bite, barely chewing.
“Calm down, love. There’s plenty where that came from.”
I ignored him and ate every bite on the plate.
I didn’t finish it, though.
It was impossible, because the meal looked as if it had been prepared for four people.
So, despite how famished I was, my stomach still had its limit.
“Good,” Dante murmured, his eyes moving from the table to me.
“Now shower and sleep.”
Stunned, I stared at him.
That was the last thing I expected him to say.
I watched as he rose to his feet and began to walk to the door.
He paused.
“If I were you, I’d enjoy this while it lasts.”
I couldn’t understand what he meant by that, but I believed it was my luckiest day so far.
Or maybe not.