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Me: I really need to shower.
Rubbing my thighs together, I strangely enjoy his cum inside me.
My phone immediately beeps with his reply.
Villain: If I come there tonight and my cum isn’t still inside you, we’ll have problems, princess.
Me: What will you do, huh?
Unfortunately, there isn’t an eye-roll emoji on this generic-ass flip phone.
Villain: Test me, princess. Shower, and I’ll shove you on your knees and come down your throat until you can no longer breathe.
Jesus, does this man think he has golden cum or something?
Sorry, Antonio, but unlike water and common sense, there is no shortage of cum in this world.
Me: You are seriously a psycho.
Villain: I’m also the only psycho you’ll ever allow to touch you.
Another text comes through before I reply.
Villain: And let’s not forget, your body enjoys this psycho’s touch—fucking craves it actually. So don’t act so innocent.
His certifiable response shouldn’t make me as giddy as it does.
There’s a pep in my step as I slide out of bed and get ready for the day—sans shower. I do change my panties though. He’ll have to get over that.
Sunlight bathes my skin as I stroll to Aunt Aida’s cottage. My Hermès sandals brush along the cobblestone with every step I take. Aunt Aida, Bruno, and Felice are at the table when I walk into the small kitchen.
“Good morning,” I sing out.
The mouthwatering smell of Aunt Aida’s fresh croissants hangs in the air, escaping through the open window. My stomach growls.
“You sure are chipper this morning,” she says when I sit beside her.
Bruno narrows his beady eyes in my direction. “It should be illegal for someone to act that chipper in the morning.”
“It’s just so relaxing here.” I spread a napkin across my lap, collect a croissant from the basket, and drop it onto my plate. “A stress reliever.”
So are the orgasms Antonio gave me.
Aunt Aida reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “The offer to move here is always open, dear. You could meet a nice man and live a normal life without … all the violence.” She peers at Bruno in apology. “No offense.”
“None taken.” Bruno shoots her what little smile he can. “I’d consider that a boring life though, so please, for the love of God, don’t move here, Gigi.”
Aunt Aida has made it clear she isn’t a fan of the brutality in our lives, but she always welcomes Bruno with open arms. She bakes his favorite sweets during every visit and sends him Christmas gifts. Like me, she sees the men behind the carnage and knows there’s a soul beneath there.
She’s offered me permanent residence in Italy countless times. As much as I love it here, it’ll never be home. I’m a New York girlie through and through.
AMarchetti.
And no matter how much I hate the brutality that comes with my life, I’ll never leave my family. The chaos is the only home I’ve ever known.
I smother honey on my croissant, my mind drifting to Antonio as I eat.
“What would you like to do today?” Aunt Aida asks.
