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Massimo threw his brother a look of disgust. "Porca miseria,Cesare! We both know I have more experience with women so damn greedy they wouldn't think twice about selling their own sons for the right price—-" His own past came to haunt him, and his jaw clenched. "So trust me when I say that Penelope is not and can never be the type to let you down."
Cesare bit back an expletive upon hearing his brother's words.
Fuck.
Massimo's mother was a Vegas stripper who had not hesitated to use her own son as a bargaining chip every time she needed to ask money from the Marchettis—-and asshole that he was, he had not realized how his treatment of Penelope might end up reminding Massimo of his parent.
"Mi dispiace—-"
"You do not owe me an apology," Massimo said quietly, "but it would make me feel better if you just stop lying to yourself. Beingfamigliaalso means we learn early about the nature of humans, and you and I know Penelope has not an evil bone in her body."
Massimo's gaze turned grim at Cesare's continued refusal to speak. "I cannot just watch and say nothing when I see my own brother hell-bent on ruining his life. Penelope is not the problem here,fratello.It is you and your feelings—"
"I do not have feelings for her," Cesare denied tightly. "I know it's not what you wish to hear, but it's the fucking truth. I don't love her—-and I never will."
Penelope
Silence is an insidious twat.
At first I'm basking in the afterglow of being surrounded by family, but as the minutes tick by, my eyes start to droop...and before I know it, I'm falling back into the bloody, thorny arms of my nightmares, and I'm forced to reliveeverythingI've been desperately trying to run away from.
The deafening, soul-eating sound of endless gunshots. The screech of wildly spinning tires and the stench of burnt rubber. And because nightmares like this always save the worst for last—-a demon sinks its claws into my flesh and turns me into a puppet.
No, please, no.
But I'm powerless to stop the demon from forcing my hands to hold a gun, point it at that man's head, and then I'm pulling the trigger—-
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
The demon doesn't allow me to stop firing even as the man's face has completely split open, his skull shattered into pieces, and his brain looking like stupid freaking macaroni—-
I wake up with a voiceless scream trapped in my throat, and I end up puking my guts out for the second time.
I'm sorry, God, I'm sorry.
I brush my teeth several times and step into the shower in a foolish attempt to wash away my sin. Punishingly cold water blasts down my shivering body, but guilt still scorches me from within.
I walk back into the room, still trembling and naked and hurting.
I know can't go on like this.
I just can't—-
The bedroom door slowly open, and as soon as Cesare walks back in, the first thing I see is the agony etched over the sculpted edges of his gorgeous face, and it's the exact same torment haunting my own soul.
I don't know why he's hurting. All I know is that it's hurting me even more to see him suffering...becauseI love him.
I think it's time I admit the undeniable.
He owns me because I want him, owns me because I need him. And the one reason he will never lose me is because I love him.
I love Cesare Marchetti, and that's why I know. He's the only one who can truly heal me, and as he suddenly hauls me against his body—-I can only reach up to lay a trembling hand against his cheek. I'm hoping, even if he's yet to love me back, that my touch may heal his pain, too.
"What's wrong?" I whisper.
He shakes his head before slowly letting me go...in order to step back and stare at me. The shadows in his gaze gradually fade, and replacing it is a glitter of lust that has his eyes devouring every inch of my naked flesh.
"I want to fuck you," Cesare says roughly.
