Chapter 2
"Giancarlo, let me go..." I struggled against him.
I tried to push him away, but somehow my hands ended up clinging to his neck without me even realizing it.
Giancarlo's breathing grew heavy as he stared at my flushed cheeks, his voice hoarse and raspy.
"Did you drug me?" he demanded.
He finally realized what was happening, his tone laced with open fury.
I let out a self-deprecating laugh, tears welling up in my eyes.
"Yeah, I drugged you because I wanted to get you into bed. Happy now?" I said. "But I regret it now, Giancarlo. Go to Annabell. She's right next door, waiting for you."
Giancarlo froze.
He fixed me with a dark, piercing gaze. "Who's Annabell? Rosalie, what nonsense are you saying?"
The comments were going wild.
[What? Giancarlo hasn't even met Annabell yet, and Rosalie just exposed the truth.]
[Giancarlo's craving is about to hit. Look at his eyes!]
I felt Giancarlo's hand clamp down on my waist, so hard it was like he could break me in half.
"Rosalie, do you even know you're playing with fire?" Giancarlo growled.
His voice was so low and tense that it sounded like it was forced out between his clenched teeth.
Instead of pushing me away in disgust like I expected, he scooped me up in his arms and carried me straight to the bed—the bed we hadn't slept in together for three years.
I struggled, panic rising in my chest. "Giancarlo, what are you doing? I thought you said you'd never touch me."
He threw me onto the soft covers and then loomed over me.
He ripped his tie off in a frenzy, two buttons popping off his shirt and revealing his chiseled chest.
"You were the one who tempted me first," Giancarlo growled.
He leaned down, his scorching kiss pressed against my neck with a fierce, almost possessive intensity.
He said, "I've endured three years, Rosalie. You brought this on yourself."
The comments were going absolutely wild.
[Giancarlo's finally going wild. He can't hold back anymore.]
[Forget the abstinent vibe. This is pure beast mode.]
His kiss left me gasping for air, my mind wiped clean, lost in nothing but raw, uncontrollable desire.
That night, I finally got what everyone in the chat meant by Giancarlo's "addiction."
Giancarlo had become someone else entirely.
The elegance and the cold restraint he always showed vanished without a trace.
He devoured every inch of me like a man starved in the desert, greedily taking everything as if he'd been deprived for years.
I sobbed and pleaded for mercy, but he smothered my cries with his lips, refusing to let me utter a single word.
Only when the first light crept through the window did he finally release me, leaving me utterly spent and exhausted.
Just before I drifted off, I saw the last comment.
[The plot's totally derailed. Annabell waited all night next door, and in the end, the Wooten family's security mistook her for some obsessed fan and dragged her off.]
[Rosalie totally shot herself in the foot with this move. Is she even gonna be able to get out of bed tomorrow?]
I closed my eyes, a faint, weary smile tugging at my lips.
Tonight, at least, he was mine.
*****
The next day, I woke up at noon, every muscle in my body aching.
Giancarlo was already gone from the bed, but I could hear the water running in the bathroom.
I forced myself to sit up despite the soreness, and when I glanced in the mirror, the marks he left on me were impossible to miss. My face flushed red.
The comments started popping up again, just a few here and there, chatting about what went down last night.
[Giancarlo is a beast. How is Rosalie supposed to survive him?]
[Hold up, Annabell hasn't left the story yet. She's heading to the Wooten Group today for a secretary interview. That's their original first meeting point.]
Just hearing Annabell's name made my heart sink again.
The bathroom door opened, and Giancarlo walked out with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.
Water traced down his broad shoulders, sliding over those abs that could make anyone's heart skip a beat—mine definitely did.
He glanced at me, his eyes full of mixed emotions. Gone was the icy arrogance I'd grown used to.
"You're awake?" Giancarlo said.
He came over and, almost instinctively, reached out to feel my forehead.
I instinctively pulled back.
Giancarlo's hand hung awkwardly in the air, his gaze suddenly going cold.
"Regretting it?" Giancarlo said.
I bit my lip and spoke quietly, "Mr. Wooten, last night must've been rough for you. I was the one who drugged you, so whatever happens, it's on me. If you feel violated, we can get a divorce."
The comments said he'd divorce me out of responsibility anyway, so better I say it first than wait for him to do it. At least I'd have a bit of dignity left.
Giancarlo scoffed, suddenly leaning in and seizing my chin in a tight grip.
"Divorce?" Giancarlo sneered.