Relucatanaly Ruined & Owned By The Mafia Novel

The Mask He Never Removed by Ariana Drew 10 Summary In Chapter 10 of "The Mask He Never Removed," Dante confronts Lucia about her reluctance to accept their new life together as a married couple. Despite the opulence surrounding them, Lucia struggles with her reality, feeling trapped and ungrateful for the luxurious lifestyle Dante provides. Their conversation is charged with tension as Dante challenges her to acknowledge the stark difference between her past and present, emphasizing that gratitude is necessary given the circumstances.

Lucia's defiance grows, leading to a power struggle where Dante establishes strict rules for their marriage, asserting his control over her. As the chapter unfolds, Dante's possessive nature becomes evident when he outlines the rules that Lucia must follow, including not leaving the penthouse without his permission and sharing his bed every night. Lucia's resistance is palpable; she feels like a prisoner in a marriage she never wanted.

However, Dante's intimidation tactics reveal a deeper emotional conflict, as he tries to protect her from the dangers of their world while simultaneously asserting his dominance. The tension escalates when Dante alludes to the consequences of her past and the threats she faces, leaving Lucia both scared and confused. After a heated exchange, Lucia reluctantly agrees to come to Dante's room, showcasing her internal struggle between defiance and submission. Dressed in a modest nightgown, she enters his room with trepidation, revealing her vulnerability.

Despite her initial resistance, she ultimately climbs into bed with him, albeit at a distance. The chapter concludes with Dante's promise of a deeper connection, suggesting that while their relationship is fraught with conflict, it is also laced with the potential for intimacy and understanding. The emotional landscape is complex, filled with fear, defiance, and the beginnings of an unexpected bond. Continue Regular Chapter Reading Below **CHAPTER 10** **DANTE** The pallor of her face was unmistakable.

"I thought..." "What exactly did you think?" I bit into my meal, observing her as she nervously twisted the napkin in her lap. "Did you believe I would allow you to hide behind that elderly woman indefinitely?" I leaned forward slightly. "Lucia, we are married. Sooner or later, you will have to face me alone." "I understand that," she replied, her voice firm, though I could see her fingers trembling as she reached for her glass of water.

"I just need a little time to adjust." "Adjust to what?" I gestured around the opulent penthouse, the lavish surroundings reflecting the life she seemed to struggle with. "Are you adjusting to luxury? To having someone take care of you? This place is worth more than your father could ever hope to earn in ten lifetimes. You have a dedicated staff at your beck and call, security to shield you from harm, and a husband who just eliminated four threats to ensure your safety.

So tell me, what is it that you need to adjust to?" "You want me to be grateful," she stated, her tone more accusatory than inquisitive. "I want you to be realistic," I countered, my patience wearing thin. "This morning, you woke up in a dingy apartment, with a father who sold you like livestock. Tonight, you are dining in a penthouse as the wife of the most powerful man in this city. A little gratitude seems like the least you could offer." She slammed her glass down so forcefully that water splashed over the edge.

"I didn't ask for any of this." "And I didn't ask for a wife, especially one who seems to think that marrying me is the end of her life." "Isn't it?" she challenged, her eyes flashing with defiance. I set my utensils down deliberately and leaned back in my chair, my gaze locking onto hers. "Come here." "What?" "You heard me. Come here." She remained rooted in her chair, her defiance evident. "No." "No?" A smile crept onto my lips as I noticed how she instinctively recoiled. "How intriguing.

We've been married for a mere eight hours, and already you're refusing direct orders from your husband." "I am not a dog you can command." I rose slowly from my seat, watching as she pressed herself further into the chair as if trying to disappear. "You're right. You're not a dog." I circled the table, noting how her breath quickened with each step I took. "Dogs are loyal. Dogs show appreciation for food and shelter. Dogs don't bite the hand that feeds them." "Stay back." But I was already behind her, my hands resting lightly on her shoulders.

She stiffened, her body responding to my touch in ways she likely didn't want to acknowledge. "Tell me, little rabbit," I murmured, leaning in so my breath stirred her hair, "what do you think would have happened if I hadn't married you? If your father had gone through with selling you to that old man?" "I don't know," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Yes, you do." My thumbs traced gentle circles on her collarbones, and I felt her shiver beneath my touch. "You know exactly what kind of men buy girls like you. Men who wouldn't have shielded you today.

Men who would have allowed Fabrizio to put a bullet in your head because your father dared to defy him." "You're scaring me." "Perfect." I straightened but kept my hands firmly on her shoulders. "This world will consume you if you're not vigilant. The only barrier between you and that grim fate is me." She attempted to rise, but I held her effortlessly in place. "Let me go." "Not yet." I leaned closer once more. "We need to lay down some ground rules for our marriage." "Rules?" "Rule number one: you do not tell me no.

Not about anything significant." "And who decides what is significant?" she shot back. "I do." She let out a frustrated sound. "This is ridiculous." "Rule number two: you do not leave this building without my express permission." "You can't keep me a prisoner." "I can do whatever I desire. You are my wife." "This isn't the Middle Ages!" she protested. I spun her chair around, forcing her to face me, then braced my hands on the armrests, effectively trapping her. Her eyes were wide, filled with anger yet undeniably beautiful.

"Rule number three," I whispered in a low, taunting voice, "you will sleep in my bed." "No." "Every single night, Lucia. My bed, my room." "I said no!" "And I said you don't get to refuse me on important matters. This qualifies." She attempted to push past me, but I easily captured her wrists. "I won't sleep with you." "I never mentioned anything about sleeping." The implication hung heavily in the air, and I watched her expression shift through shock, anger, and fear. "You can't force me." "Force you?" I laughed, releasing her wrists.

"I barely touched you last night, and you came screaming my name." "Don't ever mention last night again!" she exclaimed, her voice rising. "How adorable," I remarked, a smirk playing on my lips. "As if I could forget that my wife tried to sleep with a random stranger the night before our wedding to avoid entering our marriage as a virgin." "I did not-" she started, but then swallowed hard. "I thought you were old and gray and ugly, and-" She caught herself mid-sentence. "I know I'm the most handsome man in Dublin. No need to flatter me." I grinned.

"Perhaps we should discuss whose bed you ended up in last night." Her jaw dropped in disbelief. "I already told you-" Again, she halted. "You know what? I don't know. And honestly? I didn't care. All I wanted was for him to take me, and it was so incredibly good!" A flash of red rage surged through me, but I maintained my composure. "The day I realize you're not a virgin is the day I end your life and send your remains back to your worthless father." I took a step back, a cold smile on my face.

"Until then, by the time I'm finished with you, you'll be begging me for more." She shot to her feet the moment I stepped back. "That will never happen." "We'll see." I cleared my throat, my tone shifting to a more serious note. "Now, rule number four: if someone knocks on your door, you do not answer it. It could be a bomb. It could be Clyde." "A bomb?" Her eyes widened in alarm. "Who is Clyde?" I ignored her question. "Rule number five: do not flirt with the staff. If I even suspect it, I'll kill them and make you watch." She shook her head in disgust.

"You are completely insane." She turned and headed for the elevator, but I let her get halfway there before calling out, "Lucia." She stopped but didn't turn around. "One hour. Then you come to my room, or I'll come to get you. Your choice." This time she did turn, and the look she shot me could have melted steel. "Go to hell." "I'm already there, little rabbit. And now, you're here with me." **X-X** Fifty-eight minutes later, I began to wonder if she had truly found the courage to defy me. I was mistaken. The soft knock on my bedroom door came precisely at fifty-nine minutes.

I had been counting. "Come in." She stepped inside, clothed in a modest nightgown that reached from neck to ankles, her hair braided like a schoolgirl's. Everything about her radiated an air of virginal innocence, which should have been off-putting. Instead, it made me smile. No girl who had enjoyed a night of passion would dress like that on her wedding night. It told me she was lying about her escapade from the previous night. "I'm here," she announced, standing just inside the door as if expecting me to pounce. "So you are." I sat casually in the chair by the window, still fully dressed.

"Punctuality is a trait I admire in a woman." "Where... where do you want me to sleep?" she asked hesitantly. I gestured toward the king-size bed that dominated the room. "Right there." She glanced at the bed, then back at me. "What about you?" "What about me?" "Where will you sleep?" I smiled, enjoying the moment. "Right there." "Together?" The word escaped her lips as a squeak. "We're married, Lucia. Married people share a bed." "But you... you said we wouldn't..." "I said that by the time I'm finished with you, you'll be begging me for more.

I never specified when that would happen." She stood there, caught in a battle of wills, clearly grappling with her thoughts. Finally, she walked to the far side of the bed and pulled back the covers. "Smart girl," I murmured, pleased with her decision. She climbed in, immediately moving as far to the edge as physically possible, turning her back to me and going perfectly still. I waited for what felt like an eternity before I got up and walked to the bathroom, making every effort to keep my footsteps silent.

When I returned, I could tell by the rhythm of her breathing that she was still awake, feigning sleep. I slipped into bed behind her, the mattress dipping slightly under my weight. She tensed but didn't pull away. "Relax," I whispered softly. "I'm not going to touch you." Some of the tension left her shoulders, but it quickly returned. "Tonight." The tension returned with a vengeance. "Sweet dreams, little rabbit," I whispered, settling in just close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from my body.

"Tomorrow, we start to truly get to know one another." Her breath hitched, but she remained silent, lost in her thoughts. Conclusion In the quiet aftermath of their tumultuous dinner, a fragile understanding began to weave itself between Dante and Lucia. The confrontation, charged with anger and defiance, had stripped away the layers of pretense they both clung to. Lucia, despite her initial resistance, had taken the first step towards acceptance by entering Dante's room, her body language betraying a mix of fear and curiosity.

The tension that hung in the air was palpable, but it also marked the beginning of a new chapter in their relationship-one where vulnerability would clash with dominance, and where the masks they wore would slowly start to crumble. Dante's unwavering control contrasted sharply with Lucia's struggle for autonomy, yet in that shared space, a tentative bond began to form, hinting at the complexities of love and power. As they lay in the dim light of the room, the distance between them-both physical and emotional-was a testament to their unresolved feelings.

Lucia's bravado began to waver, revealing a deep-seated fear of the unknown, while Dante's cold exterior hinted at a man burdened by his own demons. In this delicate moment, both were forced to confront their realities: Lucia, the girl sold and traded, and Dante, the man who had taken her freedom yet offered her a chance at survival. With the promise of tomorrow looming ahead, they stood on the precipice of transformation, each aware that their journey together would demand not just submission or rebellion, but a deeper understanding of one another.

Will she continue to push back against his rules, or will she begin to see the complexity beneath his intimidating exterior? The emotional stakes are set to rise as both characters are forced to confront their pasts and the roles they must play in each other's lives. Moreover, the arrival of external threats looms ominously on the horizon. Dante's world is fraught with danger, and Lucia's naivety will be put to the test as she navigates the treacherous waters of her husband's life.

With the shadow of her father's betrayal still hanging over her, will she learn to trust Dante, or will her defiance lead her into peril? Expect unexpected alliances, revelations, and a deeper exploration of the dark world they inhabit. As the chapter unfolds, readers will be left on the edge of their seats, eager to uncover what lies ahead for this tumultuous couple.