MY CASANOVA MAFIA CHAPTER 4

Valentine put down the fork, her appetite dulled by the simmering anger and determination growing within her. The food had given her strength—not just physically, but mentally. She couldn't stay here, couldn't let Arnulfo's grip tighten any further. Her eyes darted to the door. 

The villa was silent, and the air seemed still, as if the world held its breath. She didn't know how far the sea stretched or if there was anybody out there to help, but she couldn't stay trapped. I have to try. 

Bare feet made no noise on cool tiles as she slowly got up from the table. She saw the door and went closer, her heart pounding louder with each step. The doorknob was only a foot away when a silhouette emerged behind her. Before she could even react, Arnulfo's hand clamped around her wrist like an iron shackle, spinning her around to face him. His eyes blazed with fury, his jaw tight as his grip on her wrist sent a jolt of pain shooting up her arm. "I warned you," he growled, his voice low and menacing, "not to escape." Valentine's breath caught. She tugged at his hold, trying to break free, but his strength wouldn't bend. "Let me go!" she screamed with a voice sharp with defiance. 

Arnulfo's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Let you go?" he sneered. "After you disobeyed me?" Without another word, he swooped her up as if she weighed nothing. She was kicking and struggling, punches pounding against his chest as he carried her easily out to the massive bed that fills the center of the room.  He flung her across the mattress and pinned down her wrists above her head with one hand before she could scramble away. He loomed over hers. His weight pressed her flat into the bed. 

"You're playing with fire, Valentine," he said, his voice deep and rough with authority. "I'd rather burn than be here with you!" she spat with a voice that was half-fear and half-fury. Dark thoughts invaded Arnulfo's features. He ran his free hand across her cheek almost softly before pinching her jaw open. His touch was firm, possessive. "You will regret testing me," he said in a low, cold tone. Then he came to lean forward and kiss her hard. End. Valentine's eyes went wide with shock, her body stiffening for a moment before she began to thrash beneath him. 

She turned her head to the side, breaking the kiss, and glared at him with all the fire she could muster. "Get off me!" she screamed, her voice shaking with rage. Arnulfo stared at her, his breath heavy as he pulled back slightly. His eyes searched hers, and for a fleeting second, something flickered there—conflict, hesitation. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the hardened gaze of a man used to getting what he wanted.

"You'll learn to behave," he said, his voice low and a promise fraught with danger. "One way or the other."

He stepped back abruptly, standing over her space.

"This might have been easier," he said, his voice deceptively calm in a way that made him infinitely more terrifying. "But you've chosen the difficult way, Valentine."

Val's voice cracked with rage and desperation as she snapped, "Why can't you just let me go, Arnulfo? What do you even want from me?"

His words sliced through the air, defiant yet vulnerable. Instead of a response, Arnulfo's face darkened, his jaw snapping hard as he moved toward her.

In a flash of seconds, he pulled her shoulders to the bed. She gasped and strained against him, but his force was overwhelming. His palms pinned her, and his gaze dug into her like an impending storm about to unleash itself.

"You still don't get it," he muttered low and level, though the anger kept in check was unmistakable. "I don't let go of what's mine."

"I am not yours!" Valentine spat with a fiery spirit not easily quenched.

He edged close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. His hand came across her face, calloused fingers tracing the curve of her jawline in a possessive and unnerving gesture.

"There's going to be no next time, Valentine," he warned, his voice icy. "If you try to run away again, my patience—the touch of my hand below your waist—is very, very short."

Valentine was paralyzed as his fingers moved lightly across her smooth skin. Her heart pounded inside her chest as the mix of fear and anger churned within her.

"You make me sick," she sneered, her voice trembling but strong in determination.

Arnulfo's lips curled up into a dangerous smile, but his eyes showed something more sinister. "Good," he said quietly. "Hate me all you want. Nothing will ever change that."

He lingered a moment longer with his hand, his touch a silent reminder of control as he stood and backed up.

"Understand this," he said sharply. "You can fight me, scream at me, hate me—but you'll stay. I decide when this ends, not you."

Valentine sat up slowly. Her chest heaved with quick, uneven breaths, each one a struggle to maintain her calm. She balled her fists tight at her sides, fighting to hold herself together. With a piercing glare, she fixed her eyes on him, channeling every bit of defiance she could muster into that one fierce look. 

"I will never stop trying," she said, her voice steady now, a quiet promise of resistance.

For a moment, Arnulfo's mask softened, almost as if her spirit amused him. Then it snapped back into place.

"Then I suppose we'll see how far that defiance gets you," he said coolly before turning and walking out, leaving her alone once more.

With the door closed, Valentine took a deep breath, her hands shaking slightly.

He was invincible, she thought, her resolve hardening. But so was I.

The silence that followed Arnulfo’s exit felt heavy, oppressive. The distant crash of waves against the island’s cliffs was the only sound to remind her of the vast, lonely world beyond this gilded prison. She sat up on the bed, her hands still trembling slightly from the confrontation, but her mind was already racing.

Her situation was dire—she was alone on an isolated island with a man who was equal parts magnetic and menacing. But she refused to let fear consume her. If she had survived the abandonment of her family, the orphanage, and the cruelty of life before this, she could survive him.