Still in bed, I swing my legs out from under the cover and sit up. “Can I leave the room?”
“Mr. Moretti said you should wait. He’ll let you know when.” With another quick smile, she leaves me, closing the door without locking it.
I’m not sure what to make of it all. My excuse for being a captive starts to slip away from me, and soon enough I’ll have to hold myself accountable, be made to face the very real fact that my urges toward a man like Antonio stem from a damaged place. Do I want to stay here, or should I take the chance to run?
Of course, curiosity gets the better of me. I tiptoe to the door and pull it ajar, peeking out into the hallway. I even take a few steps forward, however, my excitement quickly diminishes when I see that there’s nothing really at all outside my door—just the long red carpet that leads out onto the landing above the stairs. Not to mention another guy in a black suit marching up and down. I return to the room before he sees me, feeling that my role as a prisoner has shifted to something more akin to a pet.
That’s a good girl, stay, I think to myself miserably. Even though I know this should be one of those slap-yourself-in-the-face moments, I just sit down in front of the food and eat.
As time passes in a day that seems to be another round trip of self-analysis and internal monologue, I can’t help but try and rationalize my feelings. As if sensing my loneliness, Leonessa chirrups as she enters through the window again.
“Hey, cutie!” I say happily. Amongst everything going on here and in my own mind, she’s a little blessing to brighten my day. She rubs herself roughly against me, taking every drop of love she’s offered. Picking her up, I plop onto the bed and tickle her with a sigh.
“Why do I feel so captivated by a man like Antonio, Lea?”
She basically frowns, looking at me as if to say, Beats me!
“Even though he’s rude…and grumpy, and scary. I wanted him.” I feel sad. It took a lot of courage for me to drop my walls, to stop fighting, and let him in. What is this all for, if not sexual satisfaction? Why lock a girl in a room if you don’t want to sleep with her? I feel worthless now because I’m not even good for that. The fact that I wanted it is like salt on my wounds. Antonio really fucked with me, pulling me in only to reject me when I gave myself over to him.
Even just thinking about him gets me all hot and bothered. It’s like an unconscious twitch. I take a piece of ribbon off one of the dresses gifted to me and wrap it tightly around my left wrist. I think I read it in a book somewhere that the reason some people enjoy pain is that it activates the same mechanisms in our brains as pleasure. Maybe that’s it. Maybe I’m attracted to Antonio Moretti because I know that all he’s going to do is cause me pain. I pull the ribbon even tighter, and I can feel my pulse pumping as the blood circulation gets cut off from my hand. The most fucked up thing about this whole situation is that here, in this room, I’m feeling freer than I’ve ever felt in my entire life.