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Chapter Eighteen
Luca
This damn cell phone buzzes for the third time today, and I pull it out of my pocket to see that, yet again, I’m getting a call from Stefan Dalca.
He is the last fucking person I want to talk to right now. Honestly? I just want to drown my sorrow in the fucking pity party that I have going on here. I sent away the one woman that I thought could replace Mariana in my life. I sent her away because clearly, she didn’t believe that I was telling the truth about starting to have some kind of feelings for her. Can I fucking blame her? I mean, look at how I treated her. Look at how I treated all the women in my life.
But I don’t know how to do any fucking thing else. So, since I’m just a big fuck up, I might as well be done for good.
I hit the ignore button for the third time on Stefan’s phone call, and take the gun out of Mario’s hand.
Mario is just one of the many men that come here to play. I call him a friend, but I don’t exactly have friends. I have men that like certain tastes and take advantage of the fact that I can give them those tastes. Namely, the many women that are now hanging around here and being played with like the toys that they are. The toys they’re paid to be.
But, unlike usual, I have no fucking desire to touch them at all. It feels like they’re a disease on humanity. And I think it’s because Elena is still in my fucking head.
The last time we had a moment together was when she was laying in my bed after I tried to turn her into one of these women in order to prove to myself that I didn’t feel anything for her. But I couldn’t. Then I went and fucking called her my queen while she was sleeping in my arms.
And then I sent her away.
I’m so fucked up, that no power that God or Satan even has can save me. Hell, Satan wouldn’t even want me as his henchmen. My soul is that black.
I cock the gun and put it to my head. My finger on the trigger.
“Well, are you going to fucking pull it or not?” Mario asks; that’s the drunk angry man coming out of him. I can’t remember how many bottles of gin he has downed, his personal favorite, but I know by his attitude it’s too many. But who am I to stop his party? At least one of us can have a good time.
I was sure that more pills and more alcohol could make me feel good. I’ve tried rum, vodka, and tequila, but it only takes the edge off. So, Valium it is.
I pop three more pills, one of them something I don’t even know what it is. It’s something that Mario brought with him when I asked him to come. Right along with the gun that’s in my hand right now and pressing hard against my temple.
I shut my eyes fucking tight. And then I pull the trigger.
Bam.
Now there is a click, but no bullet comes out. I guess I’m still winning this game of Russian Roulette.
The phone rings again. What the fuck, Stefan?
I guess I have to fucking answer this one.
“You don’t have to wait for me to get back. Have some fun.” That’s what I say to Mario when I walk away to get some peace and quiet to tell Stefan to go fuck off.
“Why can’t you leave me the fuck alone today? It’s not like we’ve really had any conversations before. I can’t fucking stand you.”
“Just as blunt as ever I see,” Stefan says, and I can almost feel his smirk through the phone. Everything is a fucking joke to him. That’s why I can’t stand him. Yeah, we’re both crazy, but it’s a way different kind of crazy. He’s entertained with all this Clan shit. If he were here, in this house, he wouldn’t be touching women either; he’d be sitting back and watching the show, analyzing all this like some damn shrink.
He almost kills the fun more than somebody like Ion would. The king basically bows down to his woman and her needs.
Not that Mariana doesn’t deserve something like that. She deserves a man to bow down and kiss her feet. To do more than that. But since I’m not that man, I kind of like knocking Ion down a few pegs once in a while.
In privacy, of course, because otherwise, it would get me fucking killed. Then again, I don’t know if I really mind that right now.
“Seriously, why do you keep calling me?”
“Well, I wanted to know if you knew where your wife was? See, I could’ve sworn when I watched you take her out of that hotel room, passed out and tied up, that you are the kind of guy who could keep a woman under control, but apparently not. You see, she’s in my house right now. Couldn’t you give her what she needed?”
Now, I’m ready to fucking kill. Either he’s playing games with me and shitting me about the fact that Elena is there, or he’s telling the truth. I don’t know for sure if he would cheat on Presley like that. Or disrespect another Clan leader like this. But then again, I know for fact there are some that are fucking pissed I’m the Clan leader. Some may not even see me as legit at this point.
I close my eyes as I try to see through the fog of alcohol and pills I’ve created in my brain and think clearly about the truth of all this. But it’s so fucking hard right now, I’m beginning to regret all those pills even though they numbed me for a little while.
