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Exclusively Yours - Episode 25



Exclusively Yours - Episode 25

Subtitle; {Please, Love Me}

Olivia's POV

The obnoxiously loud and annoying ringing of my alarm elicited a groan from me, and I rolled onto my back, attempting to force myself back to sleep. I hissed as I got up from the incredibly soft and plush bed and made my way to the bathroom.

After finishing my morning routine, I left my room with my phone in hand and descended the stairs. As I walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water, I caught a whiff of a delicious aroma in the air and quickened my steps to investigate.

My eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sight before me - Riccardo was preparing breakfast, wearing an apron with headphones on. I took three steps toward him and used one finger to tap his shoulder.

He turned around, his irresistible smile spreading across his handsome face. "Hey. Good morning, Sunshine."

"You know how to cook?" I couldn't hide the astonishment in my voice, and he simply nodded, taking off his headphones. "Wow! That's cool."

"I know. Thanks."

Gathering my hair into a ponytail with the blue scrunchie on my wrist, I murmured softly to myself. "I don't know how to cook."

"Oh, I know."

With a click of my tongue, I glared at him, hands on my hips. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He wasn't trying to make fun of my inability to cook, was he? That would be utterly rude and annoying.

"Nothing, baby."

"Riccardo, it's not nothing," I retorted, perching myself on the kitchen island. "Your tone says something quite different."

He chuckled and shook his head, refusing to admit his error. "What does it say?" Riccardo picked up a blueberry from the counter and popped it into his mouth, tilting his head at me.

"Never mind."


After a few moments of silence as he plated the scrambled eggs, he turned back to me, extending it toward me.

Should I take it? 

I'm hungry. 

But wait! What if it's poisonéd? 

No, he wouldn't do that. He's obsesséd with me.

I plastered the sweetest smile I could muster on my face as I took the plate from him. "Thank you."

"You're very much welcome, Mrs. Torrence." Riccardo winked at me, and I forced myself to maintain the fake smile on my face and not grimace. "I made toast and waffles. I didn't know which you'd prefer, so I made both."

"Thanks. I'll take both."

"I like that."

"Like what?" I placed my phone beside me and took the fork he was offering.

"You eating."

"Yeah?" I speared some eggs and reluctantly brought the fork to my mouth, hesitant to see if it tasted as good as it smelled. As the eggs touched my tongue, I sighed softly. "It's good!"

"Thanks. I'm glad you like it."

"I love it!" I exclaimed after swallowing. "Now that you've started, you're never stopping."

"Aww. Does my wife love my cooking?"

I ignored the pride in his voice and the smug look on his face and nodded as I chewed. "I do."

"Well, thank goodness. You didn't deny that we're married. And I'm more than delighted to know that you love my cooking."

"It's not something to be happy about because if I love your cooking this much, then you'll have to prepare a whole lot more."

"I would gladly do it." Riccardo replied, popping another blueberry into his mouth. "I'm happy you eat well. Most girls don't."

I nodded after sipping from the glass of water he had placed beside me five or six minutes ago. "I know. They want to fit into society's beauty standards, which isn't even possible. Society is never content."

"Yeah, it's weird."

"My dad always told me, 'Olivia, being healthy and comfortable in your skin is the best beauty there is,' while my mom told me, 'Confidence is one of the many weapons of a lady,' and I've always listened and remembered those words."

"Do you miss them?"

I paused at his sudden question, then wet my lips with my tongue.

I miss them. Every day, I miss them. It's been fourteen years since I lost them in that cruel accident, a night that remains unforgettable no matter how hard I try. Fourteen years without my mother's comforting embrace or my father ruffling my hair, even though I'd playfully push his hand away.

"Yeah," I managed, swallowing hard as I lifted the glass of water. "A lot. You can't imagine."

"I'm sorry for asking," his tone shifted, losing its usual playfulness.

"No, it's fine. They passed a long time ago," I replied with the best fake smile I could muster. "I'm fine."

But I wasn't fine.

"No, you're not," Riccardo's hand gently grazed my lap, offering a comforting squeeze. "It's okay not to be fine. It's okay to miss them. I don't want you to hide your true feelings from me."

As much as I yearned to lose myself in his captivating, deep eyes, I couldn't allow myself to get used to his touch. We'd only be together for two years, and then he'd be out of my life for good. Forcing a grimace, I pushed his hand away, and he frowned, fixing his gaze on me.

"Haven't I mentioned how much I hàte being pushed away by you?" His demeanor shifted from comforting to menacing in an instant.

He was truly insañe.

"I don't want you touching me."

"I will."



Before I could utter the sentence I knew would irk him, his hand clamped over my mouth, silencing me.

"Don't. Say. That," he gritted through clenched teeth, his eyes burning with restrained anger.

He could stop me from saying it, but he couldn't stop me from thinking it.

I despiséd him.

I haté you, Riccardo Torrence, and I hope... I hope that... you fall face down in wet cement and can't get out.

"Whatever you're thinking won't happen, sunshine, so I'd suggest you stop," he warned.


How did he know I was thinking something awful?

Can he read my mind?

That's impossible.

Unless he's truly a demón.

Just as I was about to bite his palm, he removed it and offered a small smile, popping a berry into his mouth. Despite my resistance, my gaze involuntarily dropped to his lips as a droplet of juice lingered on his bottom lip.

"Want a taste?" he teased.

I forced my eyes away from his temptingly kissable lips to his intoxicating gaze. "W-what? No." With one glance at him, I left the kitchen.


I'm bored. 

I hàte being bored. 

There is nothing I can do again. 

First thing I did after Riccardo left for work was horseback riding because I simply couldn't wait another second. Second thing was watching TV. Third was going online to check the latest news on Riccardo and me. 

Have I mentioned I'm bored? 

This house is unnecessarily huge, but nonetheless beautiful and perfect, just as I envisioned my future family home. It's weird how Riccardo knows so much about me; it's kind of freaky. 

He is a strange guy. 

My husband is really weird. 

I let my eyes wander, trying to find anything worthwhile, and ding dong, something caught my eye. A card, not just any card, but a black AMEX card. 

The smirk that slowly crept onto my face had a mind of its own. I stood up from the really comfy sofa, walked to the table where the card was lying, and picked it up. 

My dearest husband wouldn't mind a little shopping, would he? 


Little was a major understatement. There was absolutely nothing little about my shopping spree. 

It completely swallowed my boredom and lots of money - Riccardo's money, hehehe. 

The anticipation flowing through my veins was exciting to say the least. I couldn't wait for him to come home and see what I got with his money. 

He would be so annoyed. 

I mean, who wouldn't be after someone spends 1.5 million dollars of their money? 

I'm bàd. 

I love being bàd. 

Hehehehehe. He has no idea what I'd do to get on his nerves. 

He is hot when he's angry. 


I eagerly ran back to sit on the sofa after nearly half an hour of looking through the glass window to see if Riccardo was back. 

It was exactly 5 pm, so I guessed this was his return time. 

It took him a couple of minutes to park his car, and I used those minutes to regulate my breathing and fix my face up, removing every cheeky smile. After I was sure I wasn't smiling stupidly, I turned on the TV and crossed my legs, pretending to be engrossed by whatever the fúck was on. 

"Good evening, Mrs. Torrence," his deep, rich voice echoed throughout the whole building. "How was your day?"

Oh. Wonderful. 

"Good," I muttered, feigning absentmindedness because of my 'focus' on the TV. 

"Won't you ask me how my day went?" The expectancy of his question didn't go unnoticed, and I couldn't help but turn my head to look at him. 

There he was, standing just seven steps away from me, staring at me like I was a trophy he had always had his eyes on and finally won, in his all-black outfit. 

Can a person look more devilishly attractive than this? 

"No. I won't." 

Riccardo hummed, coming to sit beside me. "What did you eat for lunch? Why didn't you reply to my text?" 

He texted? 

I didn't know. 

"I didn't want to." 

"Fine. Lunch?" 

Did he not get the alert? 

Why isn't he mad?

"Burgers and fries with a Starbucks drink," I petulantly replied. 

"That's good. What do you want to eat for dinner?" 

Okay, that's it! 

I can't take this anymore. 

"After you left for work, I saw your Amex card and took it for shopping," I blurted out, angry about him not knowing and annoyed that he still cares about me. 

"I know."

"I spent 1.5 million dollars." 

"Sunshine, I know. I got the debit alert," he replied so calmly that I wanted to hit him across the face with a baseball bat. "Next time when you want to get on my nerves, spend higher like 100 million, and maybe, just maybe, I'd get pissed." 

What the héck?! 

"Don't say that," Riccardo cut me off even before I could say a word. 

I hàte you, Riccardo Torrence. I swear, I do. 

I stood up from the sofa and walked to the stairs. Before I started to climb up, I glared at him and he beamed his dimples at me. 

He might not be annoyed, but I definitely am. 



After waking up, still upset about yesterday, I showered and threw on a loose crop top over a tank top and sweatpants, ready for my morning run. 

It was still dark outside, not pitch black, but the breaking of dawn. The fog and mist in the air gave the surrounding areas a spooky aura, as the house was the only one occupied.

After running for about an hour and a half, I started to jog back to the house. I raised my brows, confused and curious about the new white Range Rover parked with the other cars.

"Did he buy another car? Doesn't he already have enough? Some people just don't know how to spend their money." I thought aloud. 

"Riccardo?" I called out as soon as I stepped into the house, looking around for him. "Riccardo?" I ran up the stairs with my hands on the black railings, calling out again but received no answer. "Riccardo?"

Where is he?

Oh, wait. His room.

He could be there.

Without thinking, I turned the knob of his door and went in, only to see him shirtless, his back facing the door. As the door made a startling shutting sound, he turned around and faced me, the imperious smirk permanently on his lips.

"Second day of our marriage and you already entered my room without knocking. I must say, you are becoming rather used to me, wouldn't you say?" Although his smugness was deafening, there was something more...magnetic.

A word.

In cursive writing.

On his chest.

With slow, cautious, and deliberate steps, I ambulated to him and when I reached him, I, as slow as a snail, lifted my hand to trail on his chest.

His left chest that held my name as a tattoo.

Olivia was tattooed right on the left side of his chest inside a love shape that had an arrow sticking from either side of it.

I gulped down, flabbergasted and in absolute awe. "This is my name."

"I know."

He got my name tattooed on himself!



"A year ago. Isn't it pretty?"

I refused to answer that question. "The car outside, why did you get it?"

He's cràzy, totally insane to get my name tattooed on his body.

"For you."

"What? Why? I already have a car."

"It is your first wedding gift from me."


Does that mean that there are more?!

"Yes. There are more," Riccardo simply said as if he read my mind before putting on his chest. "I'll get another tattoo of our first child's name right on my wrist."

The scoff that erupted from me was degrading and demeaning. "Keep on dreaming."

"Let's wait and see," the certainty in his voice sounded like a threat.

"You're màd."

TBC 📖✍️

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