But he didn’t. He turned abruptly, his back rigid, his breathing heavy. “You saved me,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, “but you’ll never understand what it feels like to want someone so badly it consumes you. I’ve done everything for you, and still... it’s not enough.”
His words hit me, but I refused to let them sink in. I was too angry, too hurt. I turned away from him, staring at the window again, unwilling to cry in front of him.
“I will never love you,” I said, my voice barely audible but firm. “No matter what you do.”
There was silence for a long moment, and then I heard his footsteps storming toward the door. He stopped just before leaving, his voice hard and cold.
“You’ll come to understand one day, Raphaella. I won’t hurt you, but don’t think for a second that I’ll let you go.”
With that, he slammed the door behind him, leaving me alone in the suffocating silence.
As I sat there, my heart had a heavy weight in my chest, I felt more trapped than ever. No matter how much I resisted, no matter how much I fought, Pierre Grassi wasn’t going to let me go whether I liked it or not.