Page 36 of Sinful Wrath
Not once did I question my brother’s motives or refuse to get my hands dirty.
I do what’s expected of me, and I do it well.
But from the way Alexei was looking at me today, it’s asif he has forgotten everything I’ve done, everything I’vesacrificedfor this family.
I can’t deny it fucking stings to think that he doesn’t trust me, but I don’t have time to dwell on it. Instead, I need to use it as motivation to show him once and for all what an asset I am to this family.
And pray that Lucia Conti doesn’t screw things up for me in the process.
9
LUCIA
Being lockedin this room has made the nightmares worse. Sometimes, I’ve woken to find my throat raw, as if I’ve been screaming in my sleep.
If Mikhail hears, he takes no notice. Though it’s likely he’s not even here most nights. He said so himself, he’s a workaholic, and locking me in this room means he can disappear to his office guilt free, knowing that there’s nowhere I can go.
I’m trapped,again.
I might be locked away in an enormous bedroom with a bed big enough for four people and a flat screen TV on the wall and a big fluffy armchair perfect to curl up in, but it makes no difference.
A cage is a cage.
And I need to get out.
The last few nights I’ve not even bothered crawling into bed because I’m too scared to fall asleep. Instead, I’ve curled up in the armchair with the TV on and lost myself in hours of reality television until I’m so tired I eventually pass out.
It does mean I wake with terribleback ache, but I figure anything’s better than the nightmares. Plus, I’ve learned you can get used to anything with time, and it seems Mikhail’s not going to be letting up on my punishment any time soon.
When I get to day five, I even consider telling him the truth about what this is doing to me. About how being locked in this room reminds me of my past, a past that I’ve worked so fucking hard to forget but now here he is, shoving it right back in my face day after day.
The only times I actually saw Mikhail over the last few days was when he brought me trays of food, one in the morning and one in the evening.
If I wasn’t so caught up in my own dark thoughts, perhaps him bringing me food like a housemaid would cheer me up. The jokes are even on the tip of my tongue, but then I remember how he stripped away my freedom, and I’m right back to hating him.
I would refuse to eat what he brought me purely out of spite, but I’m Italian. I literally can’t survive more than a few hours without food. Plus, these curves didn’t happen on their own. Years of hard work and carbs went into this ass, and I’m not about to lose it because of Mikhail fucking Koslov.
I’m lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, when a knock sounds at my door and instantly go on the defensive.
“What?” I sit up.
“Dinner’s ready,” Mikhail states.
“Let me guess, is it a slice of bread and a glass of water this time?”
“You’re not in a fucking prison, Lucia.”
“You sure about that, Koslov?”
The door flies open and instead of finding Mikhail holding a tray of food, he’s empty-handed.
I frown, climbing to my feet, hands on my hips. “So, you’re fucking starving me now?”
Mikhail’s dark eyes flash, but despite his irritation he still can’t help but trail his eyes over me before staring me down once more.
I will say, I admire the man’s willpower. Not many would be able to look away from this little silky two piece. The shorts barely cover my ass, and the thin spaghetti straps of the top seem to have trouble staying up.
“Get dressed. We’re eating at the table,” he orders.