S*X Contract With Invalid Mafia Boss

Chapter 10

Christine’s POV

I woke up in a darkened room, the shadows cast long against the walls. Luca was gone, as he usually was after he’d taken what he wanted. My limbs felt heavy, bruised, each ache a testament to his relentless demands. I sat up, every bone in my body protesting, but it was the silence around me that gnawed at my insides.

It was maddening, this emptiness, this cage he kept me in under the guise of luxury. I could still feel him here—his touch, his condescending sneer. The robe slipped from my shoulders, the soft silk a cold comfort. Each breath I took, every glance around this room, screamed at me that I didn’t belong. I wanted out, wanted to tear down every piece of this life he’d forced me into.

I threw on the robe and stumbled out into the hallway, pulling it tighter around me. My head buzzed with thoughts of him, of everyone who’d tossed me aside and forced me into this life. I didn’t even realize where I was going until I bumped into a maid carrying a tray with my dinner.

"Miss, is there anything you need?” she asked, her voice grating in my ears.

I didn’t need anything—I needed everything. Freedom, a life, a way out. Her gaze was calm, unbothered, like I was some spoiled, fragile thing to be managed. The rage spilled over.

"Do you think I want this? Do you think I enjoy being trapped here, waiting for him to come back and—" I broke off, a tremor in my voice. She took a step back, eyes wide, and it only spurred me on. “Answer me!” I yelled, my hands clenched as I fought the urge to tear the tray from her hands and hurl it down the hall.

I was shaking, the rage bubbling up from somewhere deep inside me. I’d been holding it in for too long, every part of me weighed down by a life that wasn’t my own. I wanted to scream, to rip apart everything he’d given me, every reminder of how thoroughly he’d trapped me. And then I saw him, standing at the end of the hallway.

Luca’s eyes fixed on me, arms crossed, his face betraying nothing. His gaze pinned me in place, as though I were a child throwing a tantrum. He nodded at the maid to leave, then turned his attention back to me, his lips curling in disdain. “Throwing a fit, Christine? I thought you were better than that.”

"Better than what? Better than being a prisoner here, bound to someone who doesn’t give a damn about me? Is that what you think?” I hated the way my voice shook, hated the tears threatening to spill. But the anger, the resentment, was too strong to hold back any longer.

His gaze remained impassive, a flicker of contempt in his eyes. “You’d be wise to remember your place. Maybe it’s time you learned a little humility.”

Humility. My jaw clenched, the heat of humiliation washing over me, followed quickly by a flare of anger so fierce I thought I might explode. I wanted to scream at him, lash out, but something inside told me to hold it in, to save that fury for a day when it would finally set me free.

I forced out an apology under my breath, the words choking me, and stormed back to my room, slamming the door shut. But once inside, the restraint I’d fought so hard to keep finally shattered. I screamed, grabbing whatever was in reach and throwing it against the walls. The sound of breaking glass echoed around me, and I welcomed it, reveled in it.

I cursed them all—my mother, my father, the family that had never loved me, that had treated me like a burden. I cursed Kelvin, who’d ripped away the last of my innocence. And then there was Enzo, the man who’d robbed me of everything, who’d left me stranded in a foreign country with nothing but empty promises and broken dreams.

The words spilled from my mouth, venomous and bitter. I hated them. Hated every one of them for pushing me here, for leaving me in this gilded cage. And in a low, trembling whisper, I cursed Luca too, his name heavy on my tongue.

But even as the fury consumed me, the name didn’t leave my lips as I’d meant it to. Instead, I found myself screaming for him, my voice hoarse, choked with a pain I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying. “Luca!” I shouted, the sound tearing through me. “Luca!”

Before I knew it, the door crashed open, and he was there, his eyes cold as he took in the destruction around me. He stepped forward, his jaw tight, the disapproval evident in every line of his face. “What the hell is wrong with you? I’m trying to work, and here you are, throwing a tantrum like a spoiled child.”

His words hit me like a slap, tearing open wounds I didn’t even know I had. Was that all he thought of me? Just another nuisance, something to be controlled? “I’m sorry I disturbed your precious work,” I spat, the bitterness in my voice matching the resentment clawing at my insides. But even as the words left my mouth, a part of me screamed for something else—for understanding, for comfort.

I turned to walk away, to hide the tears stinging my eyes, but his hand shot out, catching my wrist. His grip was firm, a reminder of the control he held over me. “You’ve broken things, Christine. You’ll pay for every last one of them.”

I wrenched my hand free, meeting his gaze with a hatred that burned hotter than anything I’d ever felt. “I don’t have your money, Luca,” I snarled, my voice trembling. “You know that. I don’t have anything left.”

His fingers brushed down the side of my neck, tracing a line to my collarbone, his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement that made my skin crawl. “You have your body. That’s p*****t enough.”

My stomach twisted, the familiar disgust rising as he pulled me down to the floor, his words ringing in my ears like a sick promise. Each touch, each taunt, echoed in my mind, carving deeper scars, reminding me just how far I’d fallen.

When he was finished, I lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling, the shattered pieces of me scattered like the broken glass around us. The silence pressed down, thick and suffocating, and in that emptiness, a new resolve took root.

I hated him with every ounce of strength I had left. And one day, I swore to myself, he’d feel the weight of that hatred, just as surely as he’d made me feel every inch of this humiliation.

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