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"He had to scavenge for food, and he was hungry all the time. Apparently, the gang that had taken the money from that girl was Italian mafia. Not Montavio, mind you. But one of their rivals. They blacklisted him everywhere. He couldn't go back to a shelter. The local restaurants couldn't even give him a scrap of food."
My mouth hangs open. "Why?"
"It was hard to understand what Nonna was saying, but I think they were trying to bully him into joining them. He can be ruthless, he's a fighter.” I stifle a snort.You don’t say?“They say that sometimes the most loyal people are the ones that are rescued. I think it may have been a type of manipulation?"
I nod, piecing it all together.
"I asked her for more details and Tosca overheard me. She told me he was desperate for food, water and shelter, so he had to resort to stealing to survive. But the only people he would steal from were the mafia gang that was after him."
My body tenses. I hate hearing this but I need to.
"He went to a policeman for help, but the policeman was friends with the mob. He hit him and told him to leave. Adriano couldn't get access to a shelter or anything."
"That's awful," I say, sick to my stomach. "The poor boy."
"He got desperate. He started selling drugs on the street. Then one night everything he owned was stolen."
What does that do to a person? Between losing his parents and being bullied and mistreated. No wonder he's so loyal to Sergio. No wonder he doesn't trust anyone.
No wonder he likes control.
“Nonna found him on the street. She likes to feed people, you know. And she was very loyal to her husband. They took very good care of Adriano."
No wonder he wants a simple place to live but he likes money; it’s for the security it brings.
No wonder he's so protective ofme. When a child loses something of value and is traumatized at a young age, victimized, even… it makes sense that he fears losing people he loves.
People he loves. Me?No…
He's said that I am his. He's said that he protects what’s his. So, while I'm not sure he loves me, I know that he's possessive of me.
My phone buzzes with a vibration, and I look at it.
Good girl. You're staying right where I asked you to.
Warmth flares across my chest.
Of course I am. Where else would I go? And how do you know?
I smirk to myself, when a quick reply comes.
I have a camera trained on you this very minute. I like that dress.
I look around the room, but don't see anything.
Did you put a camera in my bra or something?
Or something.
Boy, he's getting pretty devious. But I like it… I think.
Are you heading back?
There's no answer for long minutes. My heart pounds, waiting for his reply.
Am I as obsessed as he is?
Soon. Maybe thirty more minutes. Finish what you're doing and remember what I told you.
