Chapter 63

Marconi was able to overpower her, gripped her to his chest, and walked up the stairs.

“I hate you. I hate you so much, Marconi… you have no idea how much I hate you. I hate my father for getting me married out of my wishes.” She laughed uncontrollably and hiccupped in between. “I will leave… leave and never…” hiccup “…return.”

Marconi paid no attention to her; it was clear she was drunk.

When he got to her room, he placed her on her bed, covered her legs with a blanket, and was about to leave the room when she grabbed his wrist. She had already been half-asleep, murmuring when Marconi covered her.

“Kiss me…” hiccup. She sat up, wiggled his wrist and started whining. “Kiss me, Marc,” she spoke in a childish tone.

Marconi never seized any opportunity he got to have her body—not when she was drunk. She was not in her right frame of mind at the time.

He tried to release his wrist from her grip; the grip was surprisingly rigid. Antonia s