Chapter 11
PROMISED TO THE MAFIA PRINCE
(She is his to ruin)
Chapter 11
Maria’s POV
Rico smirked. "You think I care what you want?"
His words hit like a punch. I braced myself for whatever was coming. But to my surprise, Rico didn’t touch me. Instead, he stepped back, a cold smile playing on his lips.
"You don’t have to worry tonight, princess," he said, turning toward the door. "I have better things to do."
My eyes widened in shock as he walked out of the room without another word, leaving me standing there, shaking.
The door clicked shut behind him, and I was alone.
I waited, frozen in place, for several moments, unsure if this was some kind of trick. But the house remained silent, and Rico didn’t return.
My legs finally gave way, and I sank onto the edge of the bed, my heart still racing from the fear that had gripped me so tightly.
I stared at the door, half expecting him to come back any moment and drag me into the nightmare I had feared. But the minutes ticked by, and the room remained empty.
What had just happened? Why had he left?
I had been so certain that tonight would be my breaking point, the moment he would claim his victory by force. But instead, he walked away.
Was this just another form of control? Leaving me to wonder, to dread the moment when he might actually return and do what I feared? Or had something else drawn him away?
I climbed into the bed, unable to trust the reprieve I had been given. The sheets felt cold against my skin, just like the rest of the house.
Sleep evaded me as I lay in the darkness, my mind spinning with thoughts of what might come next.
It was only when the first light of dawn crept through the curtains that I finally drifted off.
The sound of the front door opening stirred me awake. My eyes fluttered open, and I sat up, the events of the previous night flooding back to me.
The clock on the bedside table read early morning, and I could hear footsteps echoing through the hall.
Rico was back.
I listened to the sounds of his movement, my heart rate spiking again. My eyes locked on the door. Moments later, it swung open, and Rico stepped inside.
He looked exactly the same as he had the night before. He didn’t acknowledge my presence as he made his way over to the wardrobe, removing his jacket and tossing it onto a chair.
“Where were you?” I finally asked, unable to contain my curiosity.
Rico paused, his back still turned to me. “Out,” he said simply, his voice cold.
"Why did you leave?" I pressed, needing to know if he had spared me out of some twisted sense of mercy or if there was more to his absence.
He turned slowly, his eyes locking onto mine. "What does it matter, Maria?" he asked. "I told you, I have better things to do than deal with you right now."
His words stung, but there was also relief buried deep within the pain. He hadn’t come back to finish what I had feared.
For now, at least, I was safe.
But something told me this was only temporary.
Rico left the room finally and I had a moment to gather myself.
I climbed out of bed, feeling tired as I made my way to the adjoining bathroom. The cold tiles under my feet sent a chill up my spine as I turned on the faucet, letting the water run while I splashed my face.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked pale and tired.
“I have to be determined. Tough.” I whispered to myself.
This marriage wasn’t one born of love, and I had to remind myself of that. Rico wasn’t going to show me kindness, and I couldn’t afford to expect any.
I had to survive this in whatever way I could, even if it meant keeping my head down and doing what was necessary to avoid his wrath.
I washed up quickly, pulling my hair into a loose ponytail, and changed into a simple dress. I made my way downstairs to the kitchen.
It was large, like everything else in this house, but it looked as if it was rarely used. What was I expecting in a bachelor's home?
I opened the fridge, scanning the contents before deciding on something simple. I started preparing breakfast, cracking eggs into a bowl and mixing them absentmindedly, my mind still circling around Rico’s sudden departure the previous night.
He could have stayed. He could have taken what he wanted, but he didn’t. Why?
The smell of the food filled the kitchen, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself to enjoy it. I needed this, something simple, something I could control.
I set the table, placing the food in the middle. My stomach churned nervously, knowing that I would have to face Rico again. But I had to act as if nothing had happened.
As if on cue, I heard the sound of footsteps approaching. I stiffened, my hands gripping the back of the chair as Rico entered the kitchen. He looked just as composed as always, though there was a tired look in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
He glanced at the food I had prepared. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if he would even sit down. But then, without a word, he pulled out a chair and sat at the head of the table.
I followed suit, sitting across from him.
We ate in silence. My appetite was gone, but I forced myself to take small bites, if only to avoid drawing his attention.
Finally, he spoke.
“You’re not what I expected,” he said. His words caught me off guard, and I looked up, unsure of how to respond.
I swallowed, my throat feeling dry. “What do you mean?”
Rico set his fork down, leaning back in his chair as he studied me, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight. I expected resistance.”
I blinked, unsure how to react. Was he disappointed that I hadn’t fought back? Was that why he’d left last night? Because I hadn’t given him the reaction he wanted?
“I don’t see the point in fighting,” I replied. “It won’t change anything.”
Rico tilted his head, a tired smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Smart. You’re learning.”
Rico’s gaze lingered on me for a few more moments causing blood to pump through me faster, before he pushed his chair back and stood up.
“I have business to attend to today,” he said, straightening his jacket. “Don’t leave the house.”