90 days with my billionaire ex

KATY'S POV

I couldn’t believe my own eyes. I was in one of the most beautiful and exquisite bedrooms I had ever seen. It looked like something out of a fairy tale, like a queen’s room. The walls were draped in rich blue curtains that cascaded down to the floor. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting shimmering reflections across the room. The bed, a magnificent king-sized piece, sat in the corner of the room, its canopy draped in white satin. The floor beneath my feet was pure marble, shining brilliantly, while paintings adorned the walls—oil paintings, watercolors, and acrylics—all were works of art.

Everything in the room was exceptional, and yet, I couldn’t comprehend why Dario would place me here. Why would he want me to stay in such a beautiful room? Was he trying to make me happy? Or was this some kind of manipulation? I thought I figured it out. He’s trying to bribe me, make me forget my desire to escape, to return to my friends, my family, and Tom. I wasn’t fooled, though. This would not work on me. I won’t fall for it.

After letting my eyes wander over the room one last time, I turned to leave. But just as I was about to step out, Veronica grabbed my arm. Her grip was firm, but she immediately released me when she realized how tightly she was holding me. I stepped back, confused by her sudden touch.

"Dario wants you to stay here," she said softly.

I tried to avoid her eyes, but her words lingered in my mind.

"But I don't want to stay here. He should stop trying so hard," I snapped, irritated by her persistence.

Veronica took a step closer, watching me carefully, her expression unreadable.

"It’ll be best for you if you just calm down and don’t act stubborn," she said, her voice calm but firm. She walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out a dress. "He wants you to wear this for dinner. He picked it out himself. See? He cares about you." She smiled as she laid the dress on the bed.

Great. Now Dario gets to choose what I wear too. This was not going to make things any easier between us. He might want me to be his bride so badly, but I equally wanted to leave this island. We both had desires, but only one of us was willing to do anything to get them.

I took a deep breath. I would make my stay here unbearable for him. I would do whatever it took to make him send me back home, even if that meant escaping.

Veronica helped me into the dress, and I tied my hair into a ponytail with a band. She offered me lip gloss, which I hesitated to take. I wasn’t going to try to impress Dario. I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. I was only going to ruin his life the way he’d ruined mine.

I looked at myself in the mirror, trying to remember a time when things were better, when I was happy, before Dario had interfered with my life. The dress was nice, but it wasn’t enough to make me want to be his wife. I turned to Veronica, who was smiling at me, clearly pleased with how I looked, but I did my best to ignore her.

"You ready?" she asked, her smile still in place.

Ready or not, I wasn’t in the mood for dinner. Dinner meant nothing to me right now. All I wanted was to curl up in bed and wake up from this nightmare.

Veronica led the way, and I followed her to the dining room where Dario and Bruno were already seated. As I entered, they both looked up at me. Veronica took her seat across from Bruno, leaving the chair next to Dario empty, which I knew was where they expected me to sit. But I hesitated, standing by the chair, staring at it.

DARIO'S POV

I sat at the dinner table, waiting for Katy. It had been longer than I expected, and I was getting impatient. I could see she was determined to resist. But no matter how stubborn she was, she had no choice but to comply with my wishes. I controlled her now. She would do as I said.

I loved her, but she needed to understand that I wasn’t going to make this easy for her. I had every right to be angry, especially after everything that had happened. She had been the reason I ended up in prison. I spent months there, suffering because of her actions. It had been a nightmare, and the only reason I got out was because of my father.

I had been ready to forgive her, to move on, but then she went and got married to someone else while she was still engaged to me. I couldn’t forgive that. It still hurt, even now.

I glanced at my watch. She was late. And when she finally appeared, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She looked elegant, and that only made my desires for her grow stronger. This woman was worth everything—the effort, the stress. She would be mine, no matter what it took, even if it meant risking someone’s life.

She stood there beside me, staring down at the empty chair. I could feel her hesitation. She was making this difficult for herself, and for me. Why couldn’t she just sit down and eat? I sighed, trying to remain calm.

"Katy?" I said, my voice steady but with a hint of frustration. "Dinner is getting cold. Would you sit down so we can eat?"

She finally looked at me, and our eyes met. She was stubborn, I could see it in her gaze. But I wouldn’t let her break me. After a moment, she slowly sat down, and I couldn’t help but let out a small breath of relief.

"Good," I said, trying to sound calm as I hit the bell for the servants to serve the meal.

The servants came out and uncovered the dishes, beginning to serve us. I noticed Katy eyeing the food, and it made sense—she hadn’t eaten since I took her from the wedding. She had to be starving, but she wouldn’t admit it.

Once the meal was served, I motioned for everyone to begin eating. Katy kept staring at her food, though, not touching it. What was she thinking? Was she really going to refuse to eat?

"You might want to eat now, Katy. Your body needs it," I said, my voice softer this time. "There’s no point in starving yourself."

She met my gaze, then glanced back at her plate. She picked up the cutlery and began cutting the vegetables. I smiled to myself, pleased that at least she was starting to eat.

KATY'S POV

I stared down at my plate, cutting at the vegetables but not making any attempt to eat them. I was hungry, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat. I wasn’t going to let Dario control me like this. He might want to bend me to his will, but I wouldn’t give in.

Dario noticed my lack of movement and placed his cutlery down, staring at me.

"Eat, Katy," he said, his tone calm but firm.

I ignored him, continuing to move the food around my plate, pretending not to hear him. I wasn’t going to follow his orders.

The tension in the room grew, and then suddenly, there was a loud bang on the table that startled me. Veronica jumped, but Bruno remained calm. I turned to Dario, who had slammed his fist down on the table, his face a mask of anger. But then, to my surprise, his expression softened and he smiled. I couldn’t understand why he was acting like this—why he would go from angry to gentle in an instant. He thought a smile would make everything okay, but it didn’t. It didn’t change anything.

"You’ll stop playing with your food and eat," he said, his voice tinged with anger. "I’m saying it for the last time."

I was 28 years old, and I couldn’t remember the last time someone had ordered me around like this. But I didn’t want to keep pushing him. Not when I knew how easily he could break me. So, reluctantly, I picked up my fork and began to eat, glancing at him as he smiled in satisfaction.

As they all continued to eat, a crazy thought crept into my mind. My hand slowly slid under the table, and I grabbed the knife. I made sure no one was looking before I pressed the blade against my wrist.

I gasped at the sharp pain, and blood began to drip down onto the floor. My vision blurred, and I felt myself growing dizzy. I dropped the knife, feeling lightheaded.

Dario glanced at me, then noticed my hand under the table. His gaze hardened as he saw the blood dripping onto the floor.

"She's bleeding!" Veronica screamed, panic rising in her voice.

Dario rushed to my side, pulling my bleeding hand from under the table. His anger flared, but there was something else—concern. He grabbed a napkin and wrapped it around my wrist, his expression a mix of fury and fear.

But it was too late. My head spun, and my vision faded. Before I could protest, everything went black.