Page 98 of Brutal Revenge

Before my heart can convince my head that it is the latter, the door swings open, and a petite lady in a white coat enters. She offers a faint smile and asks me a series of questions. Most are about my age, height, and weight, but a few are more personal, like when was the last time I engaged in sexual activity, including oral sex.

“Um… I think three days ago.”

“Think?” the doctor asks, placing down her clipboard and peering at me in concern.

“Um… I, ah…” I thought her poking and prodding me below the waist would be the worst part of the examination. I was wrong. This is far worse. It’s embarrassing trying to explain that I can’t differentiate between a dream and reality. “It was Wednesday?—”

“Night,” Matteo interrupts, his tone stern. “Her last sexual activity was Wednesday night.”

The doctor pays him no attention. She stares at me as if my mouth isn’t hanging open and I’m scarcely breathing.My dream was real?“Did this activity involve penetration?”

Unable to answer that question without help, I shoot my eyes across the room. Matteo is clearly on something, but it hasn’t dazed his mind enough to alter the facts. He shakes his head.

I want to crawl under a pillow and die when he murmurs, “Your fingers don’t count, right,micina?”

Of all the parts that could have been true, why did my comment about being able to finger-fuck myself for eternity and still pass the purity test have to be it?

“It depends.” My eyes rocket back to the doctor. “If you were rough and caused internal vaginal tears, it could alter the result.” She pats myknee before sitting on a chair on wheels and wheeling closer to the examination table. “How about we take a look?”

My thighs shake uncontrollably when she pulls out the stirrups from under the bed and guides my legs onto them. I almost pull my knees together when the coolness of the air brushes over my exposed vagina. One glance at my friendship bracelet stops me.

I need to do this.

“Relax for me.”

I try to follow her instructions, but I can barely breathe, let alone unclench my muscles. Her head is right there, between my legs.

When a solemn tear trickles down my face, I slant my head to the side, praying the white sheet covering the examination table will absorb it before anyone sees it.

I’ve clearly run out of genie wishes. Matteo’s exhale is as rough as his chair slamming into the wall when he pushes up onto his feet and crosses the room in two heart-thrashing seconds.

With his hand curled over mine, he bobs down until we’re face-to-face.

“Look at me. Keep your eyes on me. Don’t pay any attention to what she’s doing.”

I inhale a shaky breath before returning his stare.

My eyes dart away when something cool and foreign breaches my vagina. It isn’t the doctor’s gloved hand.

“Keep your eyes on me,micina. She’s not doing anything. She won’t touch you. She’s just looking. Right, Doc?”

She must miss the fury in his tone. “I need to check for internal tearing.”

“There is none,” Matteo’s voice booms. “Look at her fingers; they’re tiny.”

“I can’t report that there is no damage unless I check?—”

“Then prepare to report the death of you and everyone in your fucking family,” Matteo barks out. “Because there’s no vaginal tearing, as I’ve told you. More than once.” He stares her down, shifting my shaking legs to her. “Do I need to repeat myself again?”

The doctor’s swallow is as audible as her headshake. “No. You are correct. There is no vaginal damage for me to report.”

When she lowers the sheet covering my wobbly knees and tells me I am free to get dressed, I almost gush about Matteo’s unexpected assistance.

My relief is short-lived.

Assuming Matteo is the man getting the stamp of approval to marry me, the doctor says, “Your husband-to-be is a very lucky man.”

Matteo is already gone before all her sentence leaves her mouth.