Betrothed To An Alpha? I Don't Think So!-Chapter 95: PASTA

Evelyn sat on the sofa, staring at Valerio who was squatting in front of her, treating the split on her lips.

"Can you untie me now?"

He still had her wrists and ankles tied, and she couldn’t move or do anything.

"No," he responded.

"What do you mean, no?" She frowned at him. "I already came here willingly with you, what more do you want?"

"What more do I want?"

He looked into her eyes.

"You’re telling me that if I untie you right this moment, you wouldn’t run from me? You wouldn’t seek an opportunity to escape me? I mean, Zayne Mancini is no longer in my hands, so I can’t kill him even if I want to. Therefore you have no reason to keep being a good girl." He chuckled. "I’m not stupid, Eve. You need to do better."

Evelyn’s hands balled into fists behind her back and she grunted, annoyed. "My arms hurt, you know. And my wrists are bruised. Are you going to keep leaving me like this?"

He cupped her cheek gently. "Of course not. I hate seeing you hurt. Don’t worry, I’ll fix that too and make sure you don’t hurt anymore."

He asked, "Are you hungry?"

She glared at him. "I’m not. And even I am, I wouldn’t eat anything you give—"

Her stomach growled.

She was hungry.

Valerio blinked at her. "You were saying?"

"I’m not eating anything."

"Stop being so stubborn, Evelyn," he said. "It’s been twenty-four hours now. You need to eat something or your stomach’s going to hurt. And as I’ve told you, I really hate seeing you hurt."

"Sit here, while I get the maid to make something for you." He rose to his feet. "Do you feel better though? Does it still hurt?"

Before the hand that he’d reached out could touch her lips, she turned her head away, expression hard.

Valerio stared at her, balled his hands, and angrily ran his fingers through his hair. "You’re really too stubborn, you know that?"

He asked, "How long are you going to keep being like this? Avoiding my touch like it’s lava?"

When he got no response from her and began to walk off.

"Where am I?" she asked, bringing him to a stop. "Where is this place?"

Valerio glanced at her over his shoulder. "You don’t have to know. What you’re unaware of, doesn’t kill you."

He slammed the door shut.

Evelyn listened and once his steps sounded far, she forced herself off the bed and slowly tried to walk herself to the desk in the room.

Her ankles were hurting, the rope biting into her flesh. Still, she didn’t stop.

She eventually managed to get over there, hopping around to have her back to the desk. She grabbed at the drawer and yanked it open, twisting her head to see inside it.

She was looking for anything sharp—anything that could help at all.

There was no way she was going to sit around, waiting to be saved. Zayne might never be able to find her. So, she might as well help herself out, see if she could somehow escape this place.

But inside the drawer was nothing other than hair products and whatnot. A comb was the only thing close to a sharp object she could find in there. She’d been hoping for a pair of scissors at the very least.

"Are you kidding me? He couldn’t have removed anything sharp in here, could—"

The door pushed open.

Startled, she jammed the drawer closed, tripping and falling right into the chair. Her gaze shifted to the door where a man stood.

He was skinny, but in a pair of slacks and a white shirt with an apron thrown over it.

"Are you...okay?" the man asked.

Evelyn blinked at him, but nodded. "I am. W-who are you?"

"I’m the chef. My boss asked me to find out what you’d like to eat." He approached, grabbed her hand, and pulled her to her feet. "What would you like to have?"

She stared cautiously at him. "Nothing..."

"Now, that won’t work, miss. You need to tell me what you want, else I can’t leave this place. Besides, I’m sure you were busy..." His eyes shifted to the table. "...With something."

Evelyn’s chest pounded nervously. She swallowed and smiled awkwardly at him. "I wasn’t...doing anything."

"Right." He smiled back. "What would you like to eat?"

She responded, "Pasta. I’ll just have pasta."

"Pasta it is then." He nodded, turned around, and proceeded to the door. He grabbed the handle, but didn’t leave, instead, he glanced at her.

"I suggest you stop whatever it is you’re trying to do. It won’t end well for you," he said.

Evelyn blinked. "What?"

"Mr. Valerio isn’t that simple of a man you think he is. Don’t underestimate what he can do to you. That is if you provoke him far too much. So I suggest you cooperate with him and sit back down."

His polite smile returned and he left, shutting the door.

She stood there, breathing and staring at the door, wondering what the heck had just happened.

Was he going to tell Valerio what she had just tried to do?

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The chef stepped downstairs and upon arriving, he was met with Valerio who was seated on the sofa in the living room, legs crossed and scrolling through what seemed like a brand new phone.

Valerio lifted his gaze to him. "How was she doing, Lucas?"

"She seems okay," Lucas responded.

"Oh." Valerio scoffed in a laugh. "For a woman as stubborn as her, I’d expect she’d be up to no good by now." He met his gray eyes. "Was she?"

Lucas smiled softly. "No, sir. Nothing out of the ordinary. She was in bed when I got there."

"That’s surprising." Valerio nodded. "And what did she say she wanted?"

"Pasta."

"I see. Good. Make her one and see that she eats it. I have somewhere to be."

"Yes, sir." Luca bowed.

Valerio rose to his feet, eyed him just once before making his way out of the house. He proceeded towards his car, but paused at the door, frowning as to why he had yet to get a call from Silas.

Had something happened to him?

No way.

He still had a large number of men in that house. Silas should be fine. He could easily kill Zayne Mancini if anything went wrong.

At least that was what he thought.

By the morning, he was sure Silas would call. He had to. If not, how else was he to have an idea of how things were going over with Zayne Mancini.

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