Page 42 of My Sunfall

“We’ll be on our way now, Ms. Summers. We have some packing to do.” He smiles brightly at her. “Thank you for having us.”

“Nonsense, you come back anytime you want. Cara dear, you are so lucky to have such a caring fiancé, let me congratulate you both again on your moving in together.”

I can’t reply my throat is constricted. My mind is spinning and all I’m able to do is let Lucas steer me out of Edna’s house. When we are outside, he starts to pull me toward his car, but I balk.

“Let me go, my car is over there,” I hiss, not wanting Edna to overhear.

“You won’t be driving that deathtrap ever again, cara mia,” comes Lucas’ cool reply. “From now on I’ll drive you, or Roberto will when I can’t.”

“Roberto?” I echo. Who the heck is Roberto?

As if on cue, a man steps out of the SUV and comes our way. “Good evening, Ms. Bianchi. I’m Roberto, your driver and bodyguard.”

My jaw drops to the floor. “I…don’t have a driver,” I manage to choke out.

“Now you have one, love.” Lucas spins me toward him and tilts my head up to kiss my lips tenderly. But his eyes are dark and menacing as they hold mine. A chill runs down my spine.

“Hand him your car keys,” he demands, and I slowly comply, heart fluttering like a caged bird in my chest.

“You can’t just…buy my life out from under me,” I choke out.

“I can,” he replies, low and rough. “And I did.”

“You can’t make me move in with you,” I reply weakly, more to myself than him.

He chuckles darkly, without humor. “Try me, love. Because what options have you left? If you insist on living there, I’ll make sure Edna won’t be able to enjoy all the money she got from the sale. You could also try to rent elsewhere in town.” He leans closer, his mouth brushing over my ear, sending goosebumps over my skin. “Tell me, sweetheart, where exactly will you go?”

My pulse stutters, but I keep my chin high. “Anywhere but with you.”

“Anywhere?” His smirk is calculating as his eyes glint with something dark. “You’ll find that option…limited.” He tilts his head, pinning me with his warning gaze, and at this moment, I feel like prey cornered by a predator. “See, I’ve already made a few calls. Every landlord in this sleepy little town knows your name by now, and foremost, knows not to put a roof over your head. Which means…” He pauses, savoring the moment. “…there’s no door that will open to you except mine.”

The floor starts to spin beneath me. “You…” My voice cracks. “You didn’t.”

Lucas smiles, tenderly cupping my face and brushing my lower lip with his thumb. “I told you before, cara mia, I take care of what’s mine. And you’ve run out of choices. Either you come home with me tonight…or you sleep in the street. Oh, and before you stubbornly tell me that you’ll sleep in the street, let me enlighten you—I’ll burn this whole fucking town to the ground with all the people in it. So, you see, there will be no street left to sleep in either.”

He can’t be serious. “You’re insane,” I whisper brokenly.

He smirks, leaning closer until his lips brush my cheek. “Insane for you, sì. Call it what you want. But you’ll see, cara mia… I won’t let you slip through my fingers again. Ever.”

I shove at his chest, but he remains unmoving, unyielding, like stone. My heart pounds harder, not only with fear but with the terrifying truth sinking into my mind—Lucas hasn’t simply invaded my world. He has dismantled it piece by piece, until I have no other choice left but to become the accomplice to my jailor.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chiara

After we left Edna’s house, Lucas drove me to the apartment to pack a bag with the things I might need for the next twenty-four hours.

‘Movers will come in the morning to pack the rest,’ he decreed in his assured way, not leaving any place for opposition. Numbly, I packed, or rather I threw random things haphazardly in an overnight bag until it was full, and he took it from me to carry to his waiting car. Then he drove us to the cottage where I am to be his hostage for the unforeseeable future.

Now I step over the threshold like a prisoner being marched into her cell, Lucas’ heavy hand resting at the small of my back. He can barely contain his smug smile, and I die to wipe it from his face with violence. But what good would it do? I’m stuck in this situation until he tires of rural life and returns to Boston on his own. I grit my teeth and follow him up the stairs to my room.

He stops in front of the door at the far end of the corridor and motions for me to go in. I step in and immediately spot the phone charger on one of the nightstands and the neatly arranged suits and shirts through the open door of the walk-in closet.

I spin around with the intention of marching out, but Lucas is blocking my way. I look into his impassive face. “This is your room,” I whisper in a strangled voice.

“Our room,” he corrects, casually leaning against the doorframe, watching me.

I take a step back, disbelief and fury choking me up. “You can’t—”