The silver fork vibrated against the plate as Nina picked up her cutlery.
Across the wooden table, Rodrigo sat casually, cutting into his steak. He had asked the servants to bring breakfast to the balcony, inviting her to join him the moment she stepped out of the bathroom. The blade slid through the meat without a sound, his eyes fixed on it with absolute precision. He looked completely normal. Unfazed.
Less than an hour ago, he'd pinned her under him, his teeth sinking into her shoulder. Now, he sat under the pale morning sun, casually slicing meat as if nothing had happened.
Nina stole a glance as she dug her fork into a bowl of grapes, trying to ignore the dull ache radiating through her legs. He'd been rough that morning—and the night before. She couldn't remember the details of the previous night, only that she had followed him into the closet, and he'd pinned her to the wall like she weighed nothing.
