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“I have to take care of this,” I say, the words heavy with a mix of regret and resolve.
Outside the bathroom, the silence of the hotel suite feels heavy, laden with anticipation. I remind myself how young she is, how inexperienced. Could this possibly work? Or am I fooling myself because of my obsession?
It pains me to leave her alone, even with only a door between us. My need to protect her wars with my desire to help her gain confidence, to allow her to control her own life.
The phone vibrates again, a stark reminder of the life I’ve momentarily stepped away from. It’s another message from Tony, a simple line that reads, “Garibaldi’s been talking about coming to the hotel. Be careful.”
The vendetta with Garibaldi, once a matter of pride and power, has morphed into a deadly game of chess where she could become an unwitting pawn.
It’s a chilling thought, one that forces me to confront the reality of my life and the impact of my actions. How do I best protect her from a threat that my very nature has exacerbated? The question hangs unanswered, a shadow that looms over the promise of what we could be.
“You can come back in,” she calls, her voice softer than before, yet carrying a newfound strength that draws me back to the present, back to her. I put my phone away, pushing the door open.
“Something wrong?” she asks, frowning at my face.
I thought my expression was neutral but she reads it well.
“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” I reply, attempting to shield her from the constant danger that shadows my every move. But she’s perceptive, her gaze piercing through my defenses.
“Let me help,” she insists, her voice steady. “I may not know much about your world, but I’m not helpless.”
The sincerity in her words catches me off guard. It’s a simple offer, yet it signifies so much more—the willingness to stand by me, to face the dangers of my world together. It’s a form of mutual protection I hadn’t dared to hope for.
“All right,” I concede, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “Do we stay here and trust in my guards to keep us safe or leave while we still can?”
“Stay,” she says at once.
“Your reasoning?”
“I trust you and you trust your men, right?”
“Good answer. See, I knew there was a decisive woman in there.”
“This vendetta,” she says, turning her neck to look at me better, giving me a flash of the top of her tits. “How did all of this start?”
“It began with a mistake,” I say. “A decision made in haste, driven by possessiveness and the need to control. Garibaldi’s brother took an interest in my sister. Max, his name was. Twice her age and I was so pissed at him for wanting to destroy her innocence.”
I stop, reliving the past for a moment. “I thought I was keeping her safe, taking control. I went to warn him away. He died at the scene. I thought that solved everything but I was naive. Catherine was dead a week later. Dead because of me.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“You’ve a right to know. You’re in this now. It was an overdose, they all said, but I knew the truth. She never touched pills. Even for a headache. She didn’t believe in them. One of Garibaldi’s men did it to her. Of course, I could never prove it.
“If I’d just let her be, she’d still be alive today. The two families came together after that, agreed a truce before it went any further. I wanted blood for her death but they all stopped me, made me swear on my dead mother to leave things be. Truce has held ever since. But I fucked up today.”
“Because of me?” she asks.
“Because of me,” I reply, meeting her gaze. “Told myself I could leave you to your life, just watch you from the shadows, but it was a lie. Sooner or later, I’d have stopped watching and needed to take over your life. If it wasn’t today, it would have been something else. I have to be in control and I have to have you.”
My confession hangs in the air. She says nothing so I continue.
“I had no right to bring you into my world. You want out, say the word. I’ll buy you a ticket anywhere in the world. You can go start again somewhere.”
“I’m happy in the bath for now.”
The bubbles cling to her curves, accentuating the beauty I find irresistible. “You’re a vision,” I add. “Those curves, they captivate me. I can’t look away.”
She looks up at me, searching my eyes for a trace of lies. “You mean that, don’t you?”
