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I should have used the safe word.
I’m lying to myself. I loved every second. The thought sickens me, and my stomach drops, and I rush to the nearest garbage can, vomiting everything I’ve eaten today. I groan, holding my stomach.
“Are you hurt?” I’m asked by the head of my gallery’s security team, and reality slaps me in the face. I willingly had sex with the enemy.
I shake my head, far too embarrassed to say anything. The gallery’s lights flip on, making me squint at the sudden change in brightness. The room is stark and harsh. My walls are vacant, except for my paintings.
I should be relieved he didn’t take everything from me, but I already know how this is going to look—like my paintings aren’t worth stealing. It’s another jab to my ego.
“What took you so long?” I ask what should have been my first thought. How the hell did Demetri get in here without tripping any alarms? Andhowdid the alarm go off after that?
“Your personal silent alarm went off, Ms. Rossi.”
Unbelievable. I didn’t have my personal silent alarm on me. I would have been tempted to use it when he first showed himself.
This feels more like a setup. Like he wanted everyone to know another of my dirty secrets. This world craves them. I hear the whispers when I walk by. I’m “the girl who backstabbed her sister by falling in love.” I’m “the girl who overdosed, and because of it, another of her sisters is missing. Kidnapped.” Soon, I will be “the girl who fucked the Bratva leader, and in turn, he ruined her family business.”
I wanted this gallery for me. I wanted to paint for me. I’m no lawyer like my oldest sister, Aria. But part of my duty is to support my family. I try to do everything legitimate, but the option has never been mine, down to my own paintings being sold. My family never gave me a choice to say no, that I wanted them for myself. They control seventy-five percent of the business while only giving me twenty-five percent to keep me happy, and do as I please.
I listen in as my own security calls my father. I’m now completely forgotten. I’m safe, so there’s no need to bother dealing with me.
I go back to my painting studio, the floor stained in multiple colors. When the building was first bought, the floors were perfect. It drove me crazy. I gave myself this small space to indulge, and now the floor is imperfect, messy, and bold. Like me.
As I move, I become aware of the paint cracked in the places it’s dried on my body. I slip on my jeans, not caring if they get ruined, then I go out the front door. No one says bye to me. I fade into the darkness as I walk. I could call a car or one of my sisters; they would come get me. But I’m not ready to face anyone yet.
I don’t get very far before Luna pulls up. She’s somehow always around to bail me out, even when I don’t deserve it. The passenger door opens, and I take hold of it before settling inside.
The drive is silent. I think she can already sense I’m not in the mood to talk. This is the first time in months that, when shit has gone wrong, I don’t feel like numbing myself with drugs. I’m blown away by the revelation. I wait for my jitters, or for my self-sabotaging demon inside my head, but they don’t come.
When the car stops, I step out. My body tenses, knowing my mother will be on the other side of the front door and that she will want to talk. To see with her own eyes that I’m okay.
Just as predicted, she doesn’t even wait for me to step inside as she grabs me in a hug. It’s claustrophobic, but I allow her to hold me. She, of all people, doesn’t deserve my shitty attitude right now.
Her hands frame my face when she lets me loose. “I’m so happy you’re safe. Your father and brother are working on who it was. Your cameras seem to work fine. There’s no evidence of anyone going in or out. To think you were in the building when they were too.”
“I love you, Ma.”
She hugs me again. “You go have a shower, and I’ll warm you up some milk to help you sleep.”
Grateful for the distance, I head straight to my shower to watch the colors of the rainbow swirl then disappear down the drain.
I feel raw. How is it that Demetri is the first person to ever see me for me? He knew what I needed, and heat rushes up my chest as I think of how he took me. My clit throbs, wanting a repeat, but it can never happen again.
The heat from the shower has me getting dizzy, and I place both hands on the cold tile, when it occurs to me we didn’t use protectionagain. I’m going to have to get tested. He probably fucks multiple whores every day.
My heart clenches, and I immediately recognize my jealousy. I should hate the way he overpowered me. What kind of sick, twisted fantasy did we just play out? I inhale deeply, the steam rushing into my lungs.
He took advantage of our time together to rob me. Facts are facts. He has to be laughing at me. I can’t tell my family who it was, because then they’ll ask questions about how I know. Then I would have to admit the reason.
Chapter 9: Katrina
It’sbeenamonthsince the break-in. I’ve been told I’m handling it very well. I don’t care about that anymore. It’s over and done with. Life goes on. What no one knows is that I’m dealing with a different issue all together. The problem now is….
I gulp, still unable to even think it through entirely.
The problem now is… I have yet to get my period.
Maybe I worked out too hard this month?
