Taming his little virgin

desperately wanted to soothe something there. His back faced her, a glass of whiskey swirled in one hand as he watched the amber liquid move from side to side in endless escape. A soft exhale escap

ng her sister wherever he held her. A soft exhale escaped Doris, she stepped closer and began pulling the sheet away from her body. Aria's breath shook, but she didn't stop her. instead her body remained motionless. "you're wearing this, it's what he wants." She turned to the wardrobe and pulled out a delicate black night wear , it seemed expensive but the lace would leave little to the imagination. But Aria remained silent, she hesitated for a moment before asking. "Is your hand better?" Her gaze fell to the bandage she wrapped around Aria's palm last night. Despite her efforts to get her talking, Aria's gaze held the floor. Like maybe it would open up, for her sake. A soft chuckle escaped Doris's throat, her eyes lingered on Aria. "Should I leave?" There was silence again, but before Doris could even turn away, Aria's voice stopped her. "No..." she wrapped her hand firmly around Doris's arm, pulling her back gently. Her eyes barely stayed in their sockets, they shook softly. And with a low voice, she asked. "Who is he?" Doris's throat clenched up, like she didn't want to answer. She didn't want to pull her deeper into this nightmare she found herself, but she deserved to know her captor. Aria's grip tightened slightly, desperation clawed its way up her voice "Please," she whispered, "Tell me. You're the only one here that seems normal." Doris's gaze softened, she glanced at the door to be sure no one was listening. The silence between them wafted in the air for a few seconds. Then she closed her eyes briefly in defeat, "Have you heard the name De Rossi?" Aria blinked, her hands faltered, losing its grip on Doris. "He's the heir to the most feared bloodline in Italy. His father was a legend, some said he was only a man