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“Do it.”
“NO!” She screeches, hitting my chest and throwing the gun away. “Let me go, you fucking psycho. How can you ask me to do that? How can you put it on my conscience?”
“Is that all you care about?” I laugh, the sound humorless. “Your conscience?”
“I won’t become a killer because of you.”
“Well, congrats, Georgina. You just lost your only chance to get rid of me.”
She stares up at me with hard features, folding her arms over her chest. “Why are you calling me by my full name?”
I wrap my hand around her hair in a fist and pull her into me until she cries out in pain. “Because you fucked up.”
“W-what?” Her eyes widen with fear.
“You’re going to pay for that question, Pet. I’m going to spank it out of your ass until it’s purple, then I’m going to fuck you in that ass and mark you the fuck up until you beg me to stop. Here’s the plot twist, I won’t stop.”
Her breathing hitches, and it’s both fear and excitement.
She should see the anger in my eyes. The fucking disappointment.
Over the past few weeks, I had a fantasy about her with me. I had a fucking inkling, a damn thought that maybe one day, she’ll wake up and not think about leaving.
That day isn’t today — or ever for that fact.
She’ll always think about running, about leaving.
I’ll fuck it out of her; I’ll punish her for the way she’s punishing me.
Maybe then I’ll get rid of the fucking fantasy I have about her belonging to me.14GeorginaSomething is wrong.
I know when something is wrong.
The men come in and out more often. Jasper doesn’t show up for lunch and Enzo doesn’t leave his side.
It’s always bad when that jerk is around; it’s like he’s the bearer of bad news. From the gossip I managed to extract from Salli, Enzo is a Morelli and while I have no damn clue what that means, apparently it’s something important like the Vitallio name here.
Besides, Enzo is a businessman in the States. True, he doesn’t give off the killer vibe like Jasper, but he does seem like his own brand of danger. Also, I have no doubt he’d kill me if he finds the chance to.
Salli said his family was murdered by the Costa men, like Jasper’s. Although the way they lost their family hurts my heart, I can’t believe my father was behind that.
He was a caring man.
Lucio would, though. I have no doubt that man is the devil incarnate.
Back to the present. Ever since Jasper recovered, he’s been having meetings upon meetings. While the cats, Francesco and Salli keep me company, I feel the weight of his loss every time I fall asleep waiting for him.
I don’t like it.
The bed is empty and wrong when he’s not here. For someone who spent their entire life sleeping alone, it’s weird that I can’t stand Jasper’s absence anymore.
Usually, I’d toss and turn until his warmth envelops me from behind and he brushes his lips against my shoulder or the hollow of my neck.
Today, I decided not to sleep altogether. I’ve been reading through Francesco’s textbooks. Apparently, I’m primary school level in Italian according to the little guy.
He keeps telling his grandma that I speak funny. He’s the worst teacher, either laughing or grumbling when I don’t get things right.
When I was with Mom, I don’t recall her speaking Italian with me since she was American. Dad did, though. I remember him trying to teach me words and saying things like I should be proud of my origins.
A pang of sadness hits my chest at the memory. Dad was so affectionate toward Mom and me, how come he left me in that school? How come he’s letting Lucio hunt me down?
The door opens and I startle, realizing I haven’t been focusing on the book.
Jasper comes inside quietly and stops when he sees me. He’s in his usual pants and shirt, but it’s like he gets more attractive by the day.
Seeing him lead all those men and bringing these families together gives him a different type of aura than the heartless, lonely killer he was in Chicago.
Not that he’s not heartless anymore, because as much as the men respect him, some of them fear him and his background. But now, he has priorities and he’s using his skills to teach the younger teens how to defend themselves and their families.
Before, he was cold without an aim, but now he’s a leader and it’s hot to see him belong somewhere after decades of being a lone wolf.
“You’re still awake?” he asks in a tone that implies he didn’t want me to be.
I knew something was wrong.
“Why?” I pretend to focus on the book. “Are you avoiding me or something?”
“That will only happen in your dreams, Pet. You’re the one who likes the avoiding game.” His voice is husky, tired, and there’s this urge that beats inside me to stand up, run my fingers over his stubble and kiss him.
