Chapter 3: Trapped in His Rage
Elena hurried toward the kitchen, her heart pounding.
She didn’t want to be late with breakfast, not today. Dario’s temper was already a ticking bomb, and any delay could set it off.
But halfway down the staircase, her vision blurred. A wave of dizziness washed over her, forcing her to grip the banister to steady herself. Her early pregnancy symptoms were starting to hit hard.
After catching her breath, she slowly made her way into the kitchen and began preparing Dario’s breakfast. Though the house was filled with servants, none ever offered to help her. They looked down on her just like her husband did.
Still, she didn’t complain.
She endured it all because now… she had a reason to live. A reason to fight. The tiny life growing inside her had given her hope. A hope that maybe this miracle baby would bring some light into her cold, loveless world.
Maybe, after the child was born, Dario would change and he’d see her differently.
She was lost in those fragile dreams when two strong arms suddenly snaked around her waist from behind.
Startled, Elena jumped. The hot pan in her hand clattered to the floor, and oil splashed onto her skin. She gasped in pain as it burned her, turning the soft flesh of her hand red but her fear outweighed the sting.
Because the touch behind her wasn’t Dario’s.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Henry? I’m your brother’s wife!” she shouted, voice shaking with anger and disgust.
Henry Moretti, Dario’s stepbrother smirked, completely unfazed.
“Don’t be so harsh, Sister-in-law,” he said casually, stepping closer. Elena instinctively stepped back, her heart racing with alarm.
“My brother doesn’t know how to appreciate a woman like you… but I can. Let me show you how good life can feel,” he whispered, licking his lips as his eyes shamelessly roamed over her body.
Elena’s stomach churned.
“Get away from me or I’ll scream!” she snapped, her voice rising with fury.
Henry only laughed.
“And who do you think will believe you?”
Then, without warning, he lunged at her. He pinned her between the kitchen island and his body, trying to force his lips onto hers.
“Let me go!” Elena yelled, thrashing and struggling, slapping him as hard as she could, but he didn’t back off.
He grabbed her hair, pulling her face toward his.
And then —
“What the hell is going on here?!”
The deep voice cut through the air like a blade.
“D-Dario!” Henry stammered, eyes widening in terror.
Elena rushed toward Dario and hid behind him, clinging to the only protection she had the same man who had broken her countless times. But right now, she had no choice.
“I warned her, Dario,” Henry said quickly, shifting into character. “I told her to stop. She came to me. She tried to seduce me.”
What?!
“He’s lying!” Elena cried, stepping forward. “He attacked me!”
“Why would I lie?” Henry said, putting on a hurt expression. “Why would I betray my own brother?”
Stepbrother, Elena corrected in her mind.
She wanted to scream the truth in Dario’s face that Henry was a snake, living off his money, waiting for his downfall. But as soon as she saw the fire in Dario’s eyes, her words died.
He wasn’t looking at Henry.
He was looking at her.
And what she saw in his gaze wasn’t protection… It was pure rage.
Without warning, Dario grabbed her wrist roughly and dragged her through the hall. She cried out in pain, but he didn’t stop until he threw her onto their bed and slammed the bedroom door shut behind them.
“Was I not enough for you last night?” he growled, his voice sharp and dangerous. “You had to spread your legs for my stepbrother too?”
Elena’s heart shattered.
He actually believed it.
“You’re disgusting,” he hissed. “You’re nothing but a filthy whore, always hungry for more.”
“No! Mr. Moretti, I swear I didn’t—”
“Shut the hell up, you slut!” he barked, cutting her off.
Tears welled in Elena’s eyes. Her soul was already in pieces, but now it felt like her entire being was crumbling.
She loved this man.
She had never touched another.
She belonged to him, body, heart, soul.
And yet, he saw her as dirt beneath his feet.
Dario ripped open his belt. Elena’s heart sank.
She knew what came next.
This wasn’t love. This was punishment.
She turned her face to the side, letting the tears fall freely, her voice silent as Dario used her body like an object, like property.
Her heart cried out in agony as her soul begged for escape.
---
Meanwhile, Contessa Valentina stood quietly in the hallway, a dark smile curling across her lips. She had seen everything from the kitchen assault to Dario dragging his wife upstairs.
She knew exactly what was happening behind that locked door.
And she was pleased.
Elena was being punished for something she never did, just as she planned.
Valentina turned to leave, satisfied, but her smile disappeared when she saw Henry still in the kitchen.
She grabbed his arm and hissed, “Are you out of your mind? What were you trying to do?”
Henry rolled his eyes. “Relax, Mom. I know how to play the game.”
“Idiot,” she snapped. “If Dario catches you again, he’ll kill you. Do you understand me?”
“I’m too smart to get caught,” Henry smirked.
The two exchanged a knowing look wicked, sharp, and dangerous.
Henry wasn’t just her son.
He was the secret child of Valentina and Anthony Moretti, born from an affair that destroyed everything.
Anthony’s legal wife, Amanda, had tried to protect herself and her son, Dario. But Valentina had manipulated everything making it look like Amanda had cheated and ran away.
In truth, Valentina had planned her death.
Anthony, blinded by rage, killed Amanda and later married Valentina.
Though Henry was only months younger than Dario, he had no rightful claim to the empire. The Moretti legacy was Dario’s alone, unless he failed to produce an heir by the time he turned thirty.
If Dario had no child…
Henry would inherit it all.
And with the tension now boiling between Dario and Elena, the chances of that happening were growing slimmer by the day.
Maybe Dario would never trust her again or he’d kill her one day.
And then Henry would take everything.
