90 days with my billionaire ex

KATY'S POV

I’m still unable to move at the sight of the beautiful building before me. I’ve never seen anything like this, only on TV. It looks like it was carved out of a book. It’s the most gorgeous building I’ve ever seen. I can see Dario looking at me from the corners of my eyes. He’s probably enjoying my expression towards the house. He doesn’t say anything; he lets me take in the sight of the building.

After I’ve gotten enough amusement, I look at him, but he avoids my eyes and keeps them fixed on the house.

“I know you have plenty of questions to ask,” he says, still looking at the house. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks, but I don’t respond, unsure if that was a question.

His thug friend walks up to us, and they begin conversing in Italian.

“lei e testarda. Sembra che non voglia restare.”

“She’s being stubborn. Looks like she doesn’t want to stay.”

“ha una scelta?”

“Does she have a choice?”

“no, lei non lo fa. Infatti, non ha scelta. Lei farà qualunque cosa le chiedo.”

“No, she doesn’t. In fact, she has no choice. She’ll do whatever I ask her to.”

“quindi cosa intendi fare se si dimostra ancora testarda?”

“So, what do you intend to do if she still proves stubborn?”

“Le daremo tempo e se non è disposta a obbedire, smetteremo di essere gentili e applicheremo un po’ di forza. Speriamo che non si arrivi a questo. Non mi piace lo stress.”

“We’ll give her time, and if she doesn’t comply, we’ll apply some force. Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that. I don’t like stress.”

“si, Capo.”

“Yes, boss.”

I stood there, listening to their conversation. I try to figure out what they’re talking about, even though I don’t understand Italian.

They finish their conversation, and Dario redirects his attention to me.

“Katy, this is Bruno, my personal bodyguard and my wingman. He’ll be looking after you from now on and will be in charge of your welfare as long as you’re on this island. You’ll do as he says and try not to make his job difficult,” he says nonchalantly and looks away.

“Hey,” Bruno says to me, offering his hand for a handshake. I stare at his hand, visibly pissed.

So, I will not only be a prisoner to Dario but to his bodyguard too? This is totally insane. I am not a slave and will not abase myself to anyone.

“I do not need a bodyguard or a babysitter,” I spit out to Dario, who is now clearly furious with my tone. “I am nobody’s slave, and I demand that you take me back home.”

Dario gives me a dirty stare, and before I know it, he grabs me firmly by the neck, looking into my eyes. He’s obviously enraged, and his eyes are burning into mine. I stare back, trying to hold my ground, but a strange sensation begins to pulse between us. I breathe out heavily, wondering why his gaze is affecting me this much. He leans in closer to my neck, and I close my eyes, feeling my heart race in my chest. This is strange. I’ve never felt this way before. Dario has never had such a strong effect on me.

He brings his face close to mine, and I wonder if he’s going to kiss me, but then he quickly lowers his mouth and begins to sniff my neck, all the while holding me tighter. I suddenly feel electrified by his breath on my skin. I can feel my teeth clench together, and I tighten my fists.

He pulls back a little, still holding my neck firmly, and whispers, “You will do whatever I tell you to. No stress.”

I’m left breathless as Dario finally releases me, pushing me back roughly. I clutch my neck, rubbing it softly. When did Dario become so tough and rough towards me? I’m still trying to process what just happened.

He turns to Bruno. “Take her inside,” he orders.

Bruno nods and grabs my arm, gently leading me away. “Bruno?” Dario calls after him, and he stops short and turns.

Dario lights a cigarette. “Stara nella stanza accanto alla mia. Chiedi a Veronica di prepararla per la cena. E tienila d’occhio.”

“She’ll be in the room next to mine. Ask Veronica to get her ready for dinner. And keep a close eye on her.”

Bruno nods and leads me toward the entrance of the house, which is surrounded by more than twenty men. The sheer number of guards makes me wonder if Dario truly feels the need to be so surrounded, or if there’s something deeper behind it. Why does he need all these men? Everything about him is strange.

A guard opens the door for us, and we step inside. The interior is nothing short of breathtaking. This is no ordinary house—this is a mansion, a castle in disguise. As I walk through the grand entrance, I marvel at the chandeliers, the sweeping marble staircase, and the luxurious furniture. I try not to let the beauty distract me from the fact that I am not free.

A tall, slender woman with dark hair and striking blue eyes approaches us. She’s probably over fifty but looks much younger. She’s dressed in a skirt suit and a white satin blouse, and she smiles warmly as she sees me.

“You are such a beauty. I see why Dario won’t let you go. You’re even more beautiful than he described,” she says with a strong Italian accent. I realize that I must be the only American on this island.

“I’m Veronica,” she continues. “I’m in charge of the house, and I’ll be looking after you during your stay here. Dario has told me so much about you, and I’m looking forward to working with you.” She smiles, her teeth gleaming white.

Why would I need so many people watching over me? Maybe I really am a prisoner after all. I glance at Bruno, who remains silent and stoic by my side. There’s something unsettling about his seriousness, though I can’t deny that he’s handsome. He’s well-built, with short brown hair, and looks nothing like a typical bodyguard.

Veronica gestures toward the stairs. “Dinner will be ready in an hour. Please, come this way.” She leads us up to the second floor. Bruno walks beside me, his grip still firm but not as tight. He seems to be giving me a little more space now.

At the top of the stairs, we arrive at a large door. Veronica holds out a key and stops for a moment, looking at Bruno. There’s a brief exchange of glances, but Bruno doesn’t say a word. He nods, steps back a little, and waits outside the room.

Veronica opens the door and gestures for me to enter. I hesitate. Is this the dungeon? Some sort of cell? The anxiety creeps up my spine, but I quickly shake it off. Don’t panic, Katy. It’s just a room. I take a deep breath and step inside.

The light flickers on. I stood frozen at the doorway, my eyes scanning the room before me.

“Oh my God! This can’t be,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rush of disbelief.

The room was enormous, more like a luxurious suite than anything I had imagined. The walls were painted a soft cream, accented by intricate gold trim that shimmered under the crystal chandelier hanging above. A king-sized bed with an ornate frame sat in the center, draped in white linens that looked too delicate to touch.

To the right, there was a massive wardrobe, and to the left, a seating area with plush velvet chairs and a marble coffee table. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a breathtaking view of the ocean, the sun casting golden streaks across the shimmering water. A private balcony extended beyond the glass doors, furnished with a lounge chair and a small table. It’s more of a suite than a prison cell.

Veronica smiles, watching my reaction. “I’ll leave you to settle in. Dinner is soon. Dario will expect you to be ready.” With that, she leaves, and the door locks behind her.

I’m left standing in the middle of this opulent room, overwhelmed. This place looks like a palace. Dario is definitely not treating me like a prisoner—at least not in the way I imagined.

But this is all part of his game, I know it.

I step further into the room and glance around, wondering how I got here and how I’ll get out.