Chapter 16: Bound To Him By Blood
Gia’s POV
“Gia? You’ve been in there for over thirty minutes. Is everything alright?”
Grace’s voice filtered through the bathroom door, snapping me out of the thoughts swirling in my head.
I rose from the water quickly, my thighs clenching, trying to suppress the ache stirred by the vivid flashes of Dante that refused to fade.
“I’ll be out now!” I called, forcing a lightness into my voice that I didn’t feel.
I was trembling, and it wasn’t from the bathwater, it had gone cold a while ago.
It was from what my mind refused to let go.
Quickly, I washed the last of the soap from my skin and muttered under my breath, “No. I can’t have any kind of physical feelings for that monster. Never.”
When I stepped out, Grace was waiting. She helped me dry off and handed me a soft, beautiful yellow dress with a high slit.
I paused. “How did you even know my size?”
Grace offered a soft smile, her hands clasped in front of her. “It’s all thanks to Don Dante,” she said smoothly.” He was… very specific about what he wanted you to wear.”
Heat crept up my neck as I turned back to the dress. Of course he was.
I slipped into it slowly, fingers skimming the soft fabric as I pulled it up over my hips and shoulders.
The material hugged my curves like it had been sewn for me, but it wasn’t too revealing. Elegant, tasteful… far too fancy to be worn just to lounge around a house.
Grace gave an approving nod. “Perfect. Now come, Gia. We must leave.”
I sighed under my breath. “Fine,” I muttered, following her as we made our way downstairs.
I took it one step at a time. The house felt… off. Like some kind of old fortress you’d see in one of those moody, dark movies, not horror exactly, but definitely the kind where you don’t know what’s coming next.
The walls were tall and heavy–looking, like they’d been standing for centuries, keeping secrets no one was allowed to know. A few guards were stationed at different spots, just standing there like statues.
One of them looked at me, just a glance, and then looked away quickly, like I was trouble, or like he wasn’t allowed to look at me.
Before I could think too much, Grace tugged at my hand. “Let’s go,” she said, not giving me a second to breathe.
When we reached the bottom, one of the bodyguards stepped forward, opened the giant double doors, and moved aside like this was all totally normal. Like I was supposed to be here.
I walked into the same huge living area from last night. The air was warmer in here, but it didn’t help the nerves building in my gut.
Dante was already seated at the long dining table, posture relaxed, like a king who expected everyone else to serve or kneel. The table was ridiculous. A full spread. Fruits, eggs, meats, fresh bread… all steaming like they’d been
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Chapter 10 Bound To Him By Blood
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placed there just seconds ago.
I glanced around, thinking maybe someone else was coming. But nope. Just us.
His eyes landed on me.
“Welcome, Gia,” he said, voice shockingly smooth, like honey, like this was some kind of royal invite. He nodded toward a chair across from him.
I gave a dry snort. “Sorry, this whole grand breakfast setup… it’s just for us?”
He didn’t look amused. In fact, he rose to his full height, ignoring the jab like it didn’t matter. But his face was tighter now.
“Sit,” he commanded, no warmth in it.
I crossed my arms. “You can drop the gentleman act. We both know you’re not…”
He closed the distance between us immediately, then leaned just enough to let his voice drop low.
“Finish it,” he warned, his eyes fixed on mine.
My throat dried instantly. His eyes weren’t just cold, they were intimidating. The kind of look that made you forget how to breathe, let alone speak.
Of course I didn’t finish it, and sat quietly.
He pushed the chair in, then walked back like none of it fazed him. “That’s your first strike for today,” he said casually, sitting back down.
“I let the others slide. But from now on, one more, just one, and we’re done playing nice.”
My stomach twisted. He meant that.
Soon a maid came over with two plates, all calm like this wasn’t the strangest breakfast ever.
“What would you like, Miss?” she asked politely.
I shrugged. “Anything’s fine.”
Dante leaned toward her and whispered something low. Whatever it was, she nodded, and a minute later, my plate was stacked with way too much food. Toast, eggs, meat, berries. Way more than I could finish.
I just gripped the fork and stared, at the food, at Dante, at the whole stupid charade.
He was already digging in, like this was the most normal thing in the world.
The food looked and smelled good. But the fear in my chest wouldn’t let me enjoy it. I didn’t want to get used to this place, to this life. Problem was… I didn’t exactly have a choice.
Dante didn’t look up from his plate as he said, “Would you rather keep staring like a lost little doll, or actually eat?”
I raised an eyebrow. “What if I’m not hungry?”
He finally looked up then, eyes stern. “You must be. Considering you didn’t have anything decent to eat last night.” He dropped his fork. “And you’ll need the energy for what’s planned today.”
What was planned?
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My eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”
He didn’t answer. Just kept eating.
I put the fork down. “I’m not hungry. Thanks.”
The words barely left my mouth when Dante sucked in a deep breath, like he was forcing himself to stay calm.
“If you think starving yourself is going to be your rebellion, think again. I will tape you to that chair and feed you myself if I have to.”
I stared at him, stunned, and absolutely sure he meant it.
I didn’t bother responding, instead I picked up the fork and took a bite. The food melted on my tongue, soft, buttery, rich, and I hadn’t realized how ravenous I actually was. Another bite followed.
Then another. Soon, I was devouring everything like I hadn’t eaten in days, humming unconsciously at the taste.
His chair scraped back, dragging across the floor. I didn’t look up. I was too busy stuffing my mouth.
Then I felt him behind me, his voice warm against my ear. “I see the food is to your liking.”
His breath, his scent, it scrambled my senses, and my whole body tensed. Ashamed, I dropped the fork and sat straighter, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reply.
He moved beside me again, pulled back my chair, and helped me to my feet. Again, surprisingly gentle.
“Time for more urgent matters,” he said.
I blinked. “I’m… not done eating.”
“You can finish later,” he said. “Besides… you weren’t hungry, remember?”
I had no comeback. Just flushed hot with embarrassment and let him lead me out.
Wherever we were going next…
I had a feeling I wasn’t ready.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
