Joanna let out a sharp cry, her hand reaching instinctively for the source of her pain. As her fingers brushed against the tender skin between her legs, she grimaced, recalling the brutal encounter from the night before.
She shifted slightly, wincing as the pain radiated through her body, and she pulled the blankets tighter around her shoulders, seeking comfort in their warmth.
"I won't let him break me," she whispered to herself, a fierce determination in her voice as she steeled herself against the pain. "I'm stronger than he thinks."
"I just can't believe I had lost my first time to a cruel Mafia boss. This is crazy!" Joanna frowned.
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, gritting her teeth against the pain as she stood.
Slowly, she made her way towards the bathroom, her steps tentative and uncertain.
The hot spray of the shower stung her skin as she stepped in, but she welcomed the heat, the steam swirling around her like a shield.
She let the water cascade over her body, her hands trembling as she lathered soap into her hair, the scent of lavender and jasmine mingling with the steam.
As the soap ran down her body, Joanna took a moment to examine herself, her hands exploring the curves and contours of her figure.
She winced again as she touched the delicate skin between her legs, the reminder of last night's encounter searing into her memory.
Her body ached in ways that she hadn't known possible, but she refused to let the pain define who she was.
Emerging from the steamy cocoon of the shower, Joanna wrapped herself in a plush towel and made her way back to the bedroom, her damp hair leaving a trail of water droplets in her wake.
As she entered the room, she caught sight of a small pile of clothes sitting on the dresser. She walked over and picked up a lacy white dress, running her fingers over the delicate fabric.
Joanna slipped the dress over her head, the soft material brushing against her skin like a gentle caress.
It clung to her body, accentuating her curves and making her feel, if only for a moment, like a woman instead of a possession.
She studied herself in the mirror, her eyes flicking over the bruises on her arms and legs, reminders of the night before.
"I won't be a victim," she whispered to herself, her voice strong despite the tremble in her hands. "I'll find a way out of this. I have to."
The click of the door handle turning snapped Joanna out of her thoughts, and she turned to find a maid standing in the doorway.
"Oh, Miss," the maid said, a smile lighting up her face. "I didn't expect you to be out of the shower so soon. Do you like the dress?"
Joanna's fingers tightened around the fabric of the dress, her jaw clenching as she fought to maintain her composure. "It's lovely, thank you."
The maid nodded, her expression shifting to one of concern. "Your luggage should be arriving soon, as per your husband's instructions." The maid uttered.
It took everything in Joanna not to scoff at the word 'Husband'.
Her eyes flashed with anger at the mention of Miguel, but she took a deep breath and forced herself to maintain her calm.
"Thank you for letting me know," she said, her voice cool and controlled. "Please tell the delivery men to just leave my things in the foyer. I can handle it from there."
The maid nodded, her eyes still fixed on Joanna's face. "Of course, Miss. Is there anything else I can do for you?" The maid further asked.
Joanna shook her head, her lips thinning into a line as she turned away from the maid, unable to mask her frustration any longer.
The maid took the hint and retreated from the room, the door clicking shut behind her. Joanna was alone once more, her thoughts swirling like a storm in her mind.
She had to find a way out of this. She had to find a way to escape Miguel's grasp. But how?
The sound of her stomach growling was a sharp reminder that she hadn't eaten since last night due to Miguel using her to quench his sexual urges.
Despite her churning thoughts, hunger gnawed at her insides, demanding to be satiated.
With a sigh, Joanna left the room, the lacy white dress rustling against her skin as she made her way downstairs to the dining room.
She found the room empty, save for a single table set for one, and she wondered if Miguel had already left for the day, if he even ate his meals at home at all.
"Miss, should I serve the meal?" The chef suddenly asked behind her.
Joanna was a bit startled at the sound of the chef's voice, her hand flying to her chest as she turned to face him.
"Oh, you scared me. Yes, please," she said, trying to calm her beating heart. "Thank you." She added.
The chef nodded and disappeared into the kitchen, emerging a moment later with a tray of food.
He set it down on the table in front of Joanna, giving her a sympathetic smile.
"I hope this is to your liking, Miss Joanna," he said.
"If there's anything else you need, please don't hesitate to ask." He added with a sly smile.
They were already instructed to take care of Joanna thus, they were trying their best not to anger their Boss.
Joanna offered the chef a weak smile, her appetite still nonexistent despite the tempting spread before her.
"Thank you, Chef," she said, her voice quiet and subdued. "I appreciate your kindness."
As the chef retreated back into the kitchen, Joanna's mind raced. Was he just being friendly, or was there something more to his kind words? Was he one of Miguel's men, watching her every move?
"I can't dare to trust any of them!" She shuddered at the thought, her fingers trembling as she picked up a fork and tried to force down a few bites of the meal.