Sold to Moretti Mafia

Elena

Leaning forward, he gives me a half-smile. “Like you want me to fuck you. It’s not happening… at least not right now.” Those full lips of his brush against my forehead, and I shiver as he moves behind me, taking control of the wheelchair.NôvelDrama.Org holds this content.

The warmth slowly seeps from my body as he wheels me out of the room and into the hall. His pace is leisurely like he has nowhere else to be. The silence in the hall is deafening, and I notice a few of his men trailing us. I try and ignore them, but that’s hard when I already know they’re there.

We pass a few rooms, but it doesn’t seem like there is anyone in them, I haven’t seen a single nurse or doctor pass by us. I haven’t spent much time in hospitals, but from what I remember, there are usually people milling about. I can already imagine him demanding that I’m put in my own private wing, away from everyone else.

“Did you scare the nurses and doctors into giving us our own wing?”

“Of course, I did. I picked the best doctor available to care for you, and two nurses are working eighteen-hour shifts to be there for any and every need you might have.”

“Why did you do that?” I croak, squeezing the arms of the wheelchair.

“Because you’re a Moretti and should be cared for by the best.” The deep growl he emits tells me there will be no arguments about this.

“I’m not your wife yet,” I whisper.

“You will be soon, and marriage or not, you’re mine. What happened changes nothing.”

What happened?

It occurs to me then that he never answered me. He never told me how I fell down the stairs. What was I doing that caused me to fall? Did he push me? Did someone else push me? Panic starts to bubble up, and the pressure on my chest mounts.

No. Julian wouldn’t hurt me, but someone else might have.

I recall the time someone tried to poison me. Did the same person come to finish the job? Different scenarios start to breed in my mind like cancer. I force myself to calm and take small shallow breaths, even though my lungs are burning, and my heart is racing out of my chest.

Staring straight ahead, I see we’re entering the atrium of the hospital. Huge trees canopy the air, and the sound of trickling water fills my ears. Sun shines in through the glass ceiling, making the space bright and airy.

Julian continues to push me into the massive area, and I calm a little when we reach a small seating area near a giant waterfall that drains into a shallow but large pond. Putting the brakes on the wheelchair, he moves slowly, sitting on the bench beside me.

I stare at the waterfall, watching as the water cascades over the edge, rushing into nothingness without realizing it.

Dragging my gaze from the waterfall, I turn, and my eyes collide with Julian’s wild one. His icy blue eyes are mesmerizing, like deep pits that lead to the ocean floor.

“What happened? How did I fall?” I ask, desperately wanting to know what got me here.

Julian’s jaw tightens, the angles becoming harsh, his features darkening.

“We will talk about what happened when you’re better, and definitely not here.” The tight-lipped smile he gives me doesn’t reach his eyes, and the sharp edge to his voice is a warning.

This conversation is done for now… but not forever.

“Okay,” I whisper, and just then, the throbbing in my head intensifies, and I know he’s right. Right now, isn’t the time to dive into what happened.

* * *

The doctor releases me from the hospital the next day. I get the feeling the nurses are all glad we are gone, which is the way Julian is. They must have been pretty freaked out.

Julian treats me like I’m made of glass. He practically carries me to the car, and then from the car and into the house when we get back to the mansion-our home.

Home. It’s still weird to think about this place as my home, but the truth is, it feels more and more like that. When I was living with my father, it never felt like a home, more like a jail cell, and though things with Julian weren’t easy at first, things are better here than they ever were with my father.

Julian carries me all the way up the stairs, and I hold onto him, laying my head on his shoulder. When we make it to the top of the staircase, I almost expect to have a flashback, maybe a few memories resurfacing, but nothing happens. The staircase looks as it always has, and I still remember nothing.

We make it to the bedroom, and I’m surprised to find Marie standing inside the room. She greets us with a warm smile, and I’m even more surprised when I take in the rest of the room.

One of the dressers has been moved and replaced with a bookshelf, which is filled with all my favorite books. The bed is set up with cushions and a backrest to sit comfortably with my foot raised. The nightstand has been replaced with a table that looks close to the hospital side table. It’s retractable and pulls out and over the bed like a tv tray.

“You’ll be more comfortable like this,” Julian explains as I take everything in. “Marie will stay with you when I’m busy. You can’t be alone right now with the concussion.”

“Oh… okay.” I can’t help but smile.

I don’t have to be alone anymore.

Julian lowers me gently onto the mattress, and I sink into the soft cushion with a sigh. There is nothing like being in your own bed. My head is still hurting, and my ribs are killing me, but I try to focus on the good.

“I also got you this,” Julian’s voice softens, and he pulls something out from under the table and hands it to me. I stare down at the silver iPad in my hands. “It’s not connected to the internet, but I preloaded it with movies, music, books, and apps I thought you might like. This should keep you busy while you recover.”

“Thank you,” I whisper without taking my eyes off the iPad. I’m more than thankful that Julian set all of this up. That he got me this gift and is having Marie stay with me.

But I can’t help but shake the feeling I’m having right now. There’s this little voice in the back of my mind nagging, telling me that he’s doing this not because he wants too but because he feels guilty. I know he feels responsible for what happened, but I can’t seem to let go of the fact that maybe it’s more than that?

Did he actually hurt me?

The question lingers long after he leaves the room.

Because if he did, I don’t know what I would do.