Chapter 19
Francesca's POV.
This had to be the eeriest ride I'd ever been on in my life, and I hated it.
After the chaos that happened at the wedding, the wedding could not continue as it was supposed to.
Every participant had found their exit to save their life, both the audience and the pastor.
Was it safe to say that I technically wasn't married to Enzo?
I looked over to him, and I didn't know whether to be surprised or feel insulted. It was barely four hours since the wedding, and there he was, his head buried in work on his laptop.
I was confused as hell, and the more I thought about everything, the more the migraine threatened to knock me out.
My mind wandered to the party spoiler, Emilio.
What worried me more than getting married to Enzo, was getting married to the brother of Emilio. I'd fought so hard to bury all the bad memories that he caused me. I'd done so well all these years forgetting my first love experience, and immediately I set my eyes on him, all that effort went to waste. Memories began to flood my head, and I still had flashes even now.
How was I going to live in this house without having a one on one confrontation with the devil himself?
"We're here", the driver's words snapped me back to reality, and I realized that we were back in the mansion.
"Stay here", Enzo said in a warning tone, and I watched as he got out and walked round the car to get my door for me.
I simply came down from the car and straightened my gown while Enzo took my bags out of the boot.
"Let me help you, boss-"
"Don't worry. She's my wife. You don't bother yourself", he dismissed the driver as he picked my things.
After the wedding, we branched the family mansion to get my things. At first, Paolo was against it, and they had an argument, but Enzo was adamant on us living separately.
He led me into the house and even though I hated him, I couldn't help but gape in awe at the magnificence of Enzo's house. I noticed the other fleet of cars outside, but his interior screamed wealth. From the Persian rug on the marble tiles, to the high whitewashed ceiling that held fancy incandescent lights. The furniture looks expensive without even using them.
I had to give it to him - Enzo was a psycho who had taste. Everything in this mansion looked beautiful.
"I know you haven't seen wealth before, but I really need to get some rest for tomorrow. When I said " follow me, obey", his harsh words interrupted my moment of admiration, and his grey look wiped away the smile on his face.
Still, I had no choice but to follow him up the gold-laced stairs.
"I know we signed a contract, but living in the same room with you will be the last thing I'd do-"
"I've never allowed a pauper into my room, and trust me I don't want to start now", he cut me off.
Shock and anger flowed through my veins, but I didn't say a single word. I simply followed him down the hallway into a room.
I looked around and I gasped. The room was double the size of the whole apartment I lived in with my mum back in Italy! The king-sized bed looked so soft, even though I hadn't laid on it yet.
I could see a walk-in closet and a huge window with a beautiful view of the city.
Then it occurred to me that there was no way he would let me have this room all to myself.
"Wait... Isn't this your room? I thought you said you don't want to have a pauper and a prostitute live with you?"
"Yes, I don't want to. But right now, it's not about what I want. We didn't just sign a contract to be a couple for nothing. My father will be watching, so we have to act like a couple until the contract is off."
I couldn't believe this.
So for the next year, I'd be waking up to his face every morning.
"Fine, but just so you know, I'm not going to have anything to do with you tonight-", I turned my back on him to remove my wedding gown. "So don't expect to have a happy ending with me tonight-"
Before I could finish my statement, a strong force served me around to face him, and he immediately pinned me to the wall.
"Enzo!", I shrieked in shock and confusion. "What the hell is wrong with you?!!"
"Who are you to tell me when to fuck you and when not to? Have you gone mad?", he growled in rage.
"But I was only telling you that because I was tired! B... Besides, you just called me a prostitute. Why would you want to sleep with a prostitute on a wedding night?"
"Because you're not just any prostitute. You are my prostitute."
I felt my heart palpitate when he made that statement. I was supposed to be offended that he still called me a prostitute, but the way he owned me made me want to be his.
It made me want to succumb to whatever he said.
I gathered the courage to look up in his eyes, and I almost saw the devil.
"I'm your prostitute?"
Instead of giving me a response, his hands went under my wedding gown and found its way past my panties.
He still had me pinned with one hand, so there was no way I could resist or fight.
"Enzo, please... I meant it when I said..."
His finger began going in circular motions over my clit, and I couldn't find the rest of the words faded from my brain.
He broke every form of resistance under ten seconds, and now he had me in his possession.
"En... Enzo..."