The older woman starts to talk to Draco in Spanish and he responds dully, chewing thoroughly. I pick up my fork and dig it into the eggs.
But it’s as I bring it to my mouth that Draco straightens his back, his eyebrows drawing together.
“Did I say you could eat?” His voice comes out deep and heavy.
Both women look at me. He glares at the fork that’s halfway to my mouth. I swallow the lump in my throat, lowering the fork.
“Oh…I thought…”
“You thought what?” he bellows. “That you were in the fucking clear?” His head shakes and he drops his fork to pick up his orange juice. “Put the fucking fork down and put the lid back over the food.”
I don’t dare blink as he picks up his juice, his eyes locked on me. I drop the fork with shaky hands, picking up the lid to cover the breakfast.
I stare down at the silver dome—at my stretched reflection. I feel the older woman looking at me, but she continues eating. The younger woman doesn’t bother looking my way.
“You were late yesterday,” Draco proclaims.
“I didn’t have a clock. I didn’t know what time it was.”
I avoid his eyes, but I feel his hot glare on the side of my face. Through the corner of my eye I see him place his glass down and then pick up his fork to take a bite of his eggs.
“You met Francesca?” he questions, looking at the younger woman and then at me again.
I nod.
“I didn’t hear you. Speak when I ask you a question.”
I look up and his jaw pulses. “Yes, I met her.”
“I hope she made you feel welcomed.”
I side-eye her. “Sure.” Dropping my head, I focus on my fingernails. I am so humiliated. I feel hot all over. My body is broiling with rage.
“Gianna,” Draco murmurs, and I look up rapidly. He has a fist on the table, his head cocked. “How did your breakfast look? Appetizing?”
I nod, but then I quickly respond. “Yes.”
“Do you want it?”
“Yes.”
“I bet you do. The smell of this crispy bacon and buttery toast is making your belly growl with hunger. You’re dying for a taste…and you could have had some if you’d only been on time yesterday morning.” When I drop my head, he demands me to look up at him again. His face is straight now, his eyes as hard as stone. “You’re going to watch us eat and then when we are done, you will gather all of the dishes and take them into that kitchen over there.” He points towards the hall the butler is standing near. “Is that understood?”
I nod reluctantly. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes…sir.”
“That’s good, niñita.”
“Little girl?” Francesca asks, scoffing.
He narrows his eyes at her. “Do you have a problem with that?”
She lowers her chin, shaking her head as she scrapes the last bit of eggs off her plate. “No, sir.”
He inclines a brow and then looks at me. Picking up his toast and a knife, he spreads jelly over it and then bites into it. As he does, he doesn’t dare pull his line of sight away from mine.
He wants me to keep watching. This is his form of torture. Making me starve just because I was late for breakfast one fucking time. My belly growls loudly and embarrassment sweeps through me. He chuckles when he hears it, but laughs even harder when my cheeks burn red.
“You heard that?” he asks the older woman.
She simply shakes her head and avoids his eyes, clearly disappointed in him.
“Oh, cheer up, mamá. This is how shit is handled. This is how you instill obedience. This,” he says, wiping a thumb across his bottom lip, “is how you know they won’t go against your word again. Francesca, what happens when someone is disobedient?”
“They are punished,” she responds monotonously.
He watches me, studying my cleavage. I blink slowly, lowering my gaze a bit. I can’t look away. As badly as I want to, I can’t. He’ll consider it a defiant gesture and I don’t want to add to the days that I can’t even get a crumb.
“You can drink your orange juice,” he insists, pointing at it with his fork. “It’s freshly squeezed. Shouldn’t let that go to waste. Drink.”
I grab it and take a small sip.
When I lower it, Francesca sighs. I’m not sure if she’s with or against him. Either way, I know she won’t step in or say anything.
And that’s okay.
I don’t need her to save me. I can save myself.
I may be hungry, but I was starving in that cell for six days and if I made it past that, I can get through this. I will not let his venomous ways fault my spirit.
I’ll accept my punishment and then we’ll move on from this mess and it will never happen again.
At 6 p.m. I’m not even allowed in the dining room.