He slapped her hard, the blow sending her flying. She landed on her side, beside the dresser, facing away from him. She didn’t see the immaculate Italian leather shoe coming at her. She felt it though, kicking her twice, and then he rained blows on her with his fists. She curled into a ball, hands over her face as he beat her. She sobbed. Pleaded. He didn’t stop for what seemed an eternity but could only have been a couple of minutes.

Finally. Finally, there was no more, just the sound of his heavy breathing and her broken sobs. The worst of it was she didn’t know if she was crying because she hurt everywhere, or because of the terrible things Elijah had said to her, or seeing Marco, a man she actually liked, dead on the floor in a pool of blood. She was utterly and totally humiliated. Utterly and totally beaten down. She’d never felt so small or so scared in her life.

Paolo crouched close to her, gripping her hair in his hand and pulling her head up so he could look down into her face. “You. Belong. To. Me. If you insist on acting like a slut, I’ll treat you that way. This is what sluts get, so make up your mind what you’re going to be, Siena. My adored wife, or my slut I use any way I see fit.”

There was disgust in his voice. So much. He made her feel filthy. She didn’t understand her behavior with Elijah. She’d never done anything like that in her life. Never. She’d never even dreamt of having sex like that. Wild. Abandoned. Out of control. But just the thought of Elijah had her body burning, wanting more. Paolo was right. She was a slut and a whore. She was everything he said, and she wasn’t any good at it either. She would never—ever—make that mistake again. She felt vulnerable, fragile, and Paolo had just taken anything she had left of herself away from her.

Paolo released his grip on her hair, spit in her face and then was gone, leaving her lying there, hurting so bad she didn’t think she would ever be able to move, with spittle running down her cheek. Her stomach lurched. The waves of itching grew stronger as if something raced beneath her skin, pushing and shoving to escape. She hurt so bad everywhere, but now, she was aware of every joint, her knuckles, her knees, her ankles and even her jaw. She rolled, trying to get to her knees. The moment she did, she began to vomit. She couldn’t even get to the bathroom.