Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Luca’s POV

The charity event was coming to an end, with the monotone murmur of obligatory chats and fake smiles gradually receding. I lingered at the bar, sipping a glass of whiskey, lost in thought amidst the dazzling scene. These occurrences were identical: superficial, expected, and extremely dull. The individuals in this place have come to observe and get noticed, to associate themselves with my reputation, my influence. However, the significance of everything hardly entered my thoughts. 

I was not present at the party. My existence served as a warning of the authority governing this city. But this evening, a different disturbance was troubling my thoughts. Emma is a name. 

My wife walked into the hall with a calm and composed demeanor, her expression giving nothing away, moving gracefully as if nothing had happened the night before. The black dress clung to her body beautifully, highlighting her shape and drawing the eyes of all the men in the room. 

I was aware of the impact she had on individuals. From a distance, I had been observing her with a cold gaze, noting how she presented herself while pretending to be okay. 

She believed in her strength and ability to maintain this mask. However, I was aware of the truth. I had noticed how her body reacted to me, how she shivered under my touch while her lips were full of hate. She could feign as much as she liked, yet the reality was evident in how her skin warmed and how her breath caught when I possessed her. 

I couldn't help but acknowledge the satisfaction that flooded me when I considered it. Not only was it about being dominant, but also about the necessity to establish authority, which played a role in the situation. 

No, it was deeper. I liked watching her break, watching her struggle against her emotions and ultimately lose. Emma could hate me all she wanted. It wouldn’t change the fact that she was mine.

I glanced over at her, standing in a corner of the room, speaking to some politician’s wife. The woman was talking incessantly, her hands gesturing wildly, while Emma simply nodded, her polite smile never faltering. Her eyes, though, were distant. She was lost in her thoughts, possibly reliving the events of the night before on a never-ending loop. Great. 

I finished my drink and placed the glass down with a loud clinking sound. Since taking Emma, I had established my dominance, yet I found her stubbornness intriguing. She was resolute, rebellious indeed, but deep down, there was a woman who reacted to the type of authority I possessed. 

She couldn't hide her undeniable reactions behind her anger. The way she leaned towards me, the gentle sounds that slipped out of her mouth even when she tried to despise me, it awakened a feeling within me. Not love, not even lust in the conventional way, but a craving for additional. Increased submission from her, increased silent surrender. 

I had zero tolerance for love, no room in my life for any hint of gentleness. My existence was shaped by authority, domination, and anxiety. Emma was merely a pawn to be manipulated in the chess game. Tonight, as I observed her standing on the other side of the room, I sensed a strong attraction. An urge to once more assert his ownership over her. She believed she could conceal her feelings of loathing with her icy blue eyes, but I understood her more than she thought. 

With a deliberate, gradual movement, I moved away from the bar and navigated through the crowd, paying no attention to the inquisitive looks and efforts to engage in conversation. As I walked, individuals moved away from me, as the unseen force field of authority surrounding me prevented anyone from approaching too closely. 

When I reached her, Emma stiffened, but she didn’t turn to acknowledge me.

"Emma," I said, my voice low and commanding.

She turned slowly, her expression controlled, but I saw the flicker of something in her eyes. Fear? No, something else.I couldn't identify it exactly, but it evoked a primal feeling inside me. 

"Luca," she replied, maintaining her usual icy tone. "Are you having a good time at the party?" 

I could detect the contempt in her words. She attempted to irritate me, but it was unsuccessful. Tonight is not possible. 

I moved nearer, my hand enveloping her waist possessively. I whispered, leaning in close so only she could hear, don't act like you care about the party. “We are both aware that you are simply anticipating my offer to bring you back to your place.”

She became tense and I could sense her becoming defensive in response to my words. She clenched her jaw, yet remained silent, her lack of words speaking volumes more than any argument she could present. 

"I belong to no one’s orders," she whispered at last, her voice filled with barely contained fury. 

 I smirked, leaning in closer until my lips were near her ear. "Aren’t you?" I asked, my voice dangerously soft. "You may try to resist, but we both know the truth."

I noticed a small shiver pass through her body as she took a sharp breath. She despised it, despised how I could provoke her, yet she couldn't refuse it. Not completely. 

I moved back a bit, just enough to glimpse the redness of anger— or perhaps another emotion?—on her face. Despite the defiance in her eyes, her body language suggested a different narrative as her lips parted and she leaned towards me slightly. 

Suddenly, I seized her chin and turned her face towards me. Surprised, her eyes grew wider, yet she stayed in place. I lowered my lips to hers, kissing her with the identical powerful passion as earlier. It wasn't soft; it was controlling, a memory of her significance to me. She pressed her hands against my chest, not to push me away, but as if in a struggle with herself, as though her body and mind were in conflict. 

When I eventually let go, she was breathing heavily, her chest moving quickly up and down. I observed the unrest in her gaze, the disorientation and rage. She desired to dislike me, yet I was aware of the reality. "We’re leaving," I said, my voice firm.

Emma didn’t argue. She simply nodded, her expression carefully neutral as I led her toward the exit.The ride back was quiet, the tension between us was tangible. I felt her frustration and desire for control in her life, but I understood she was also confined by her body's response and her current circumstances. 

Upon reaching the mansion, I did not allow her the opportunity to back away. Immediately after shutting the car door, I took hold of her arm and led her inside, my grasp strong yet gentle. She didn't fight back, yet the rebellion in her gaze remained, like a flame that wouldn't be put out. 

Upon entering, I pushed her against the wall, my body closely against hers. I wasn't concerned even though she took a sudden breath. I desired to witness her collapse, to observe as the resistance faded from her and she accepted the fact that I dominated her. 

I kissed her once more with force and authority, and this time she did not fight back. She held onto my jacket tightly, her nails piercing into my shoulders as if she was attempting to maintain a sense of power. However, I sensed her body becoming more pliable, sensing her resistance fading as time went on. 

When I stepped away, I saw that her eyes were half-closed and her lips were swollen from the kiss. Her gaze was fixed on me, her face showing a blend of rage and another emotion she refused to acknowledge. I grinned smugly. 

I reminded Emma quietly not to forget her place as I brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You're free to dislike me as much as you please, but that doesn't alter your significance to me.”

She remained silent despite the fiery expression in her eyes. I released my hold on her and took a step back, allowing her room, but I anticipated it wouldn't be for a long time. The game we engaged in was still ongoing. Not even close. 

While I walked away, I sensed her eyes on me, her thoughts in a chaotic state. She could attempt to resist it, but fundamentally, she understood the reality. She was mine. And nothing would change that.