Until Forever Ends: A Dark Mafia Romance by Adelaide Forrest (black books to read .txt) 📗

just decide that for me!" I yelled, watching in horror as he made his way for the bedroom door.

"Watch me," he growled, tugging it open and then disappearing through it. The lock latched from the outside, trapping me in the bedroom alone as I stared after him and wrapped my hands around my stomach in anguish.

He could not be serious.

3 Isa

I stared at the door after it closed, my entire frame flinching with the sound of the lock as it echoed through the cavernous room. Glancing around the empty space, I jolted into action when I realized he really intended to leave me locked in the bedroom. My legs got tangled in the bedding as I fought to get to the door, sending me sprawling to the floor with a pained grunt as my scraped knees crashed against the hardwood.

"Rafe!" I yelled, forcing myself to my feet in a hurry. His steps receded away from the bedroom door despite my call, ignoring me as my fists pounded against the wood. "Rafael!" I screamed, hitting it with all my might as I tried to turn the knob. My back pressed against the door as I spun, looking around the room for something that I could potentially use to pick the lock.

There was no sign of anything small enough, even if that had been a skill I possessed. I gasped for breath as his release tickled against my flesh, sending me racing for the bathroom to scrub him off me.

Pregnancy wasn't something that was at the front of my mind. It wasn't something I'd ever really considered possible for me, since I'd spent so much of my life catering to Odina. Our lives were a mess financially, and I'd seen far too many girls I went to school with deal with an unplanned pregnancy and the vicious cycle it created for keeping them in poverty. I used the bathroom, moving to the sink to wash my hands and use the water there to scrub myself clean.

My hand brushed against a sore spot on my inner thigh, drawing my gaze down to it as I spread my legs and stared at it in confusion. The bite mark was red, the early bruising in the distinctive shape of Rafael’s perfect teeth marking my flesh clearly and leaving little doubt to what he’d done to me while I slept.

I heaved an angry sigh, turning my gaze up to the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, making me halt my motions as I studied the mess of hair around my face. The light hint of a bruise showed on the side of my neck, the injection site of his drugs a light purple to contrast the tan of my skin. I swallowed, turning my gaze back to my face as I gripped the edge of the counter in both hands.

If I wasn't the poor girl from Chicago who had to help her family, who would I be? Would I be a mother? A wife one day? I hated that when I tried to imagine the picture, the only face at the front of my mind was Rafael's.

I leaned forward, hanging my head momentarily as I tried to force the image away. I couldn't marry the man who'd kidnapped me off the streets.

That was the pinnacle of fucked up. The definition of all the darkness I'd barely escaped as a girl, and the opposite of the responsible thing to do. I touched a hand to my stomach, running my fingers over the flat surface as I bit my lip and willed myself to focus on what mattered in the moment.

Getting away was the only thing that mattered. Escaping was all that I could focus on.

I pushed away from the bathroom counter, striding back into the bedroom and searching for the closet door on the opposite end of the room. I needed clothes if I wanted to attempt an escape. I slid the barn style door to the side, stepping into the closet and staring around in dismay. One side was filled with Rafael's suits, his clothes as meticulously kept as they'd been when I snooped in his hotel room.

It felt like a lifetime ago that the prospect of him being married had been the worst of my concerns.

My eyes drifted to the brightly colored clothes on the other side, to the feminine lines of designer dresses and skirts. To the jeans and tops and shoes. All were in colors similar to what I wore regularly; all were the same kind of styles and cuts I preferred, if not just slightly more provocative. But the fabrics flowed over my skin as I touched them, the luxurious quality of wealth I'd never thought I'd know feeling so dramatically different than all the cheap clothes I'd been comfortable in.

I forced down the questions rising, wondering if the clothing had been intended for me or if it belonged to someone else. Grabbing a pair of shorts off one of the shelves, I tugged the elastic waisted bottoms up my legs and found a tag hanging from my side. I tore it off ruthlessly, dropping it to the floor and studying the rest of the clothes. All still had tags, and that at least reassured me that I wasn't putting on another woman's belongings.

Even if it begged the question of how he knew my personal style so well to purchase it all in such a short time frame. The amount of clothing here was far greater than anything my sister and I had owned combined, and wouldn't have been a quick process to accumulate.

I tugged a bra on and then a cotton shirt over to cover my chest. Whatever the reasoning, whatever the time frame, he was clearly deranged.

It was as if he truly believed we'd live some happily ever after despite the man he was and the things he'd done to me.

My anger rose once again with his clear dismissal of my will to