Elsa

“Now we’re going to have some fun, don Marcello,” I purr, putting the mask over his eyes.

“Before I begin, remember—if you don’t like something, you have to tell me. Do it so that I believe you. Though I don’t think I’ll listen anyway.”

He knows I am mocking him, and it elicits a smile on his face. He reclines his head on the pillow, making himself comfortable.

“You kidnapped me, kept me against my will, and fucked my life up. You fucked it up so bad I can't live my life the way I used to before I met you,” I say, clamping my hand on his cheeks...