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Cosimo
It’s been nearly two weeks since I claimed Clara as my own. Temporarily, in her mind I’m sure, but I know in my bones that she’s mine forever. My lovely girl has settled in well, making herself at home and letting me show her my favorite parts of the city during the day and fucking her senseless in every way know to man at night. She’s turned into a hungry, adventurous lover, and she can’t get enough of me, just like I can’t get enough of her. The day on the calendar is coming where she has to make her choice, but I think we will just let it pass by like any other. Soon, she’ll be my wife.
This morning, I let her sleep in, looking angelic with her short curls haloing around her head on the black pillow. Tying my tie as I watch her slumber, I consider the work I have to do today, and how it will make two secrets I’m keeping from her once it’s finished, instead of one. Secrets she can never discover. First is that I paid her father’s debt on the first day we met, which means there was nothing keeping her here these past two weeks, and secondly, that I’m leaving to complete what I hope will be my final killing before settling down with Clara and retiring for good.
I didn’t tell Clara, but my informants told me a few nights after I beat the shit out of the two men that broke into her rental villa, that they had confirmed one man was in a coma and not expected to wake up, his spine broken from the force of my beating, but the other someone would be alright. I tried not to think about it, not wanting to enter any more violence into the sphere where Clara and I reside together, but I received another message from my informants late last night. Someone had torched the rental villa to the ground. Thankfully it was empty, but security footage I was provided showed that the arsonist was none other than the fucker that had made it out of the hospital, Luigi.
Clearly the intent had been to kill Clara if she was still staying here, which meant she was in danger while living in Naples, and would be forever, unless I eliminated the threat. I woke Clara after receiving the information last night, and made love to her three times, until she passed out in my arms afterwards in the deepest sleep. I hope it means she will sleep through the rest of the morning, and by the time I get back, Luigi will be dead, and I will have had time to wash the blood from my hands.
Holstering my pistols on either hip under my suit jacket, I leave my villa, stopping to look at my reflection in the mirror by the front door one last time before departing. I look like a killer, and I probably always will, but at least the look serves me well today.
* * *
The kill was clean,no one could deny me that. I had found Luigi lounging, hungover, outside of his friend Paulo’s house by the pool. I made sure no one else was home, before donning my leather gloves and entering the yard. He was so oblivious, maybe even half-asleep, that he didn’t even know what was happening until my hands came around his scrawny throat.
I killed him with my bare hands, making sure he knew before he died that I was there for Clara. He died like a coward, begging, and I left his body floating in the dirty, leaf-filled pool.
It hadn’t felt good, really. Killing never does. But there was a sense of satisfaction, knowing that I was keeping my woman safe, something primal.
Unfortunately for me, everything goes to hell as soon as I get back home.
I’m not bloody as I turn the doorknob and enter my home. My clothes aren’t even out of place, but the second I see Clara waiting there for me, still in her short, silky nightgown, I know that she knows what I’ve done. Her expression is pinched, horrified, and she’s pale.
“You killed Luigi,” she says simply. “Mel just called me in hysterics, begging me to pay to fly her home. Her and Paulo just found his body in their pool, strangled, and it just so happens you were gone. You killed him, didn't you?”
“I won’t apologize,” I say evenly, “He made a second attempt on your life, so I neutralized the threat.”
“A man died because of me!” she yells, the words devolving into a sob at the end. “And Mel said Serg might never wake up!” Tears pour down her face now, and while I hate to see her hurt, there is still no sympathy for those two coward assholes.
“It’s done, Clara, and none of it was your fault. It was theirs. You’ve known what I am from the start, so don’t look so surprised.” I snap.
“You know what the worst part is?” She says brokenly, crossing her arms over her chest as if she’s trying to hold herself for comfort. “I knew yesterday that you paid all of Dad’s debt a long time ago. He let it slip when he called to ask when I was coming home. I was pissed, Cosimo, but I was still going to stay if you told me the truth. But now, I learn that you didn’t just lie to keep me here, you killed in my name, too.” She sniffles, wiping her eyes with her fingers. “I want to go home. To my real home. Back to America.”
I try to keep calm, but rage is starting to grow in my chest. Of course she knows everything, and now she really thinks she’s going to be able to leave. All I can hope for now is that she doesn’t hate me after I force her to stay.
“No.” I say simply. “You’re staying here, Clara.”
“Like hell I am” she screeches. “I’m going to pack my stuff and then I’m leaving!”
I watch calmly as she tries to turn and go to our rooms, but my stride is so much longer that I’ve got her by the arm before she can take a step. A calm, cool feeling of inevitability settles over me; I know what I have to do.
“Let go,” she begs as I take her to the dining room. I hold her arm with one hand and snag one of the dining chairs with the other, now hauling them both back to our bedrooms. “Please, Cosimo.”
Once inside the bedroom, I slam the door shut, and release her. She’s breathing hard, but she doesn’t back down, looking at me with stubborn indignation.
“The things I’ve done, Clara, were done because I love you. What I’m about to do now is because I love you, too. Did you or did you not agree to obey my rules for two weeks?”
“Yes, but–”
“And is two weeks passed yet?”
“No,” she huffs. “But–”
“Sit.” I command, spinning the chair around for her. “You get to choose. I can spank you, or I can fuck you however I please. Your choice.”
She doesn’t move, and I’m starting to get close to the edge, anger boiling over inside of me. I will never hurt her, but I don’t want to yell and scare her, either. The self control it’s taking to remain calm is astronomical.
“Clara,” I grit out. “Sit. And choose.”
