Chapter 8

I swallowed hard, my fingers fumbling as I unbuckled the belt and slid it free. His gaze bore into me, making it impossible to look away as I crouched to remove his shoes, socks, and then his pants entirely. He stepped out of them without breaking eye contact and moved to sit in the large mahogany chair.

“His presence fills the room,” I thought. Every step, every glance, seemed deliberate, as though he was constantly asserting his dominance without needing to say a word.

As I stood back, unsure of what to do next, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Follow me,” he said, rising to his feet and walking toward the bathroom.

“No,” I said firmly, shaking my head.

He stopped, turning slowly to face me with an amused look. “No?”

I nodded. “What do you want from me?”

A dark chuckle escaped his lips. “Get in,” he commanded, the weight of his voice pressing down on me.

“No,” I repeated, louder this time, standing my ground.

He smirked, the amusement in his eyes shifting to something darker, more dangerous. In an instant, he was in front of me, gripping my arm before I had time to react. I tried to pull away, panic flooding my senses, but he was too strong.

I opened my mouth to scream, but his hand covered my lips, silencing me. His other hand pinned mine behind my back with ease.

“Don’t,” he said, his tone calm but menacing. “That won’t help you. It’ll only make things worse.”

My heart raced as I struggled against him, but it was futile. He was too powerful, and my resistance only seemed to amuse him further. His lips curved into a cruel smile, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest.

“You think you’re tough?” he murmured. “I enjoy seeing weaklings like you try to scurry away.”

“I’m not weak,” I spat, the words muffled against his hand.

“Then prove it,” he challenged, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

I froze, realizing how vulnerable I was in that moment. All my efforts to free myself had been useless, my strength no match for his. He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear.

“That’s what I thought,” he said with a smirk, his voice dripping with mockery.

Then the unexpected happened. Before I could react, he grabbed a scarf from the table, tying it tightly around my mouth. My muffled protests were useless as his cold, unyielding voice filled the air.

"I’ll teach you a lesson,” he said darkly. “It seems you weren’t trained to respect and obey.”

He effortlessly hoisted me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing. My fists pounded against his back, my legs kicking, but it was as though my resistance only amused him. I was furious, humiliated, and terrified all at once.

He carried me into the bathroom,a lavish, sprawling space that screamed opulence and indulgence. The marble tiles gleamed under the golden light from an ornate chandelier, and the centerpiece was a massive clawfoot tub already filled with steaming water. The scent of expensive bath oils hung in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of fresh roses placed on a nearby counter.

Without hesitation, he dropped me into the tub, the shock of the warm water enveloping me entirely. My clothes clung to my skin as I struggled to sit up, gasping for air, but before I could regain my bearings, he stepped into the tub.

Romano's long-sleeved shirt was drenched as he settled into the water opposite me, his head and chest rising above the surface. The fabric clung to him, revealing the defined lines of his broad chest and powerful shoulders. He looked like a predator, his eyes fixed on me as though daring me to defy him again.

Grabbing my wrists, he pinned them above my head with one hand, leaning in closer. The water rippled around us as he inched toward my face.

“Don’t even think about screaming,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. “You’ll regret it.”

The look in his eyes told me he meant every word, and my heart pounded in my chest. He reached up and untied the gag from my lips, his fingers brushing my cheek briefly. My breaths came out in ragged gasps as I stared at him, too terrified to speak.

For a moment, he said nothing, just watching me with a mixture of amusement and something else I couldn’t quite place. His proximity was suffocating, and I felt weak, ashamed, and powerless under his gaze.

“Will you like to leave now?” he finally asked, his voice soft but dripping with menace.

I nodded frantically, desperate to escape this nightmare. “Yes, please,” I whispered hoarsely.

“Good,” he said with a smirk, leaning back against the edge of the tub. “Just after my massage.”

He sat there casually, as though this were the most natural thing in the world. His soaked shirt clung to every curve of his muscles, water dripping from his hair and onto his broad shoulders. I hated the way my eyes lingered on him, hated the way my body betrayed me by reacting to him.

I sat behind him, trembling and soaked, with my legs still in the water. Slowly, I reached out to massage his shoulders, my hands shaking with anger and fear. Every fiber of my being wanted to strangle him, to fight back, but I was too scared to act.

He let out a contented sigh, closing his eyes as I worked on his muscles. The silence was unbearable, broken only by the faint splash of water and the erratic beating of my heart.

This man, with his commanding presence and cruel smile, had reduced me to this pawn in his twisted game. Yet, as I sat there, I vowed silently that I would find a way to regain control.

For now, I had no choice but to endure it all.

As I stormed out of the bathroom, my wet clothes clinging to me, I refused to grab a towel or even change. I needed answers. Fury burned through my veins as I marched straight to Mrs. Parker’s office. My hair was dripping, leaving a trail of water on the polished floors, but I didn’t care.