Italian Psycho

Part 3) The Devil

"You'll become more familiar with this room tonight." He led me into the ballroom.

"I don't think it needs any introduction. No?" His thick Italian accent echoed off the high ceilings and mirrored walls.

I shook my head refusing to speak anymore. This is how it started. He had already convinced me in to not speaking.

"Good." He replied leading us back out.

Men shuffled passed us carrying large tables and chairs into the room as we exited it. There would be a ball for the two families tonight before the wedding. This was an attempt for our fathers to sniff out anyone against the combining of the two families. Everyone would be shaken down at the door.

"This way." He dragged me back towards the end of the Hall. He escalated up a set of white stone stairs at the end of the hall. They winded up the beautiful prison and around the corner.

I slightly took advantage of his hand in mine gripping it tighter. I couldn't keep up with his long vigorous determined steps. The fact that he would be the only sense of stability and comfort I would have in this gilded bird cage wasn't settling in my stomach.

"The dinning room." He mentioned quickly dragging me by an open room I had no chance to view.

"This is our room." He pushed on a heavy black door at the end of the hall.

He dropped my hand holding the door open for me. I looked to him first making sure it was ok for me to enter. His eyes gave me no response but I knew he wasn't holding that door for no one. I stepped in glancing back at him a few cautious times.

The room had tall narrow windows on each of its outer walls. Curtains covered their glass keeping the room in a cool shade.

This room was much colder than the rest of the house. I couldn't tell if it were just me or if there was a slight breeze in here. I shivered crossing my arms.

There was little to no furniture. Only a low bed covered in grey sheets on the middle of the wooden floor, a chair in the corner, and a desk on the far side of the room. The white tall walls and empty space and darkness made it feel eerie.

"Isn't this the perfect lighting for fucking?" He smirked letting the large heavy door slam shut behind him.

His unsubtlty took me by surprise. He hadn't even known me more than ten minutes.

"I thought you didn't like me?" I asked out of fear and confusions.

I've never felt so out of place in my life. I was so good and he was so. . .awful. He would never treat me with the respect I deserved.

"Just because I don't like you doesn't mean I don't want to fuck you bloody." Suddenly I could feel his cool breath on my neck.

My lips turned down instantly. I couldn't hold back anymore. A quiet whale escaped my lips and I shook with fear. This exactly what I had been trying to escape my whole life and now I was stuck in it. The hot tears came quicker than I expected.

"Please don't cry raggazina!" He shouts through a clenched jaw trying to hold back his anger.

I fell to the floor collapsing on my own sorrows. I had held it in as long as I could. I knew it was bound to happen.

"Isn't this what all girls want to marry rich? Have babies?!" He shouted balling up his fist.

Now I knew why he was so angry. He couldn't impress me. Much less phase me at all. Even though I was scared and frightened I'm sure it was harder for him to read as I had the same extensive emotional control training.

"Not with you!" I wheeled. "I don't  want to give birth to the devil." I shouted unable to hold back any more.

His anger grew quietly within him. I could see the skull and crossbones come forward in his coal colored eyes. He watched me cry for a moment indifferent to sympathy.

"You are a sinner now Cecilia. And you only sin for me."  The hard snack of his palm stung on my cheek.

My tears stopped. I froze under his hard stare.

"Be a good girl for me." He grabbed the bottom of my jaw leaving me with a gentle kiss.

The door slammed behind him with a slight click.