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“What’s wrong, Lori?” He asks, his voice dark and void of emotion once again.
“Are you really as bad as people say you are?” I ask suddenly, unable to keep my thoughts to myself apparently.
Did he screw the sense out of me?
He chuckles before he answers, some of the tension in my body easing away from the sound. I like his laugh. And I really hate that I like it.
“Depends. What have you heard?” He questions, running a finger down my spine, my whole body shivering in response.
“My eldest brother told me that one time you had a man’s fingers plucked off one by one and then sent them to his wife by mail,” I say, remembering one of the terrifying stories that Carmelo told me when I was a kid.
I never knew who Marco was before I met him, but I did hear stories of the lead boss in the De Vico family. I heard a few times about how sadistic he was. What I didn’t know was that he was also capable of bringing a woman to her knees, or that the woman would be me.
“It’s not a complete lie,” he says after a while, my head turned to look at him from over my shoulder.
“I didn’t send them by mail. I had one of my men drop them off on her porch,” he says, my mouth opening as my jaw drops.
I whip my head back around and rest my forehead against my arm, unsure of how I ever got to this point in my life. I’m sitting in a bathtub with a monster that not only terrorized both me and my family, but also has fucked me into oblivion. He has committed crimes, monstrosities even. He abused me and defiled me, broke me down until I was nothing. And then he was right there to pick up the pieces, to mold me back together, and to bring me this strange amount of pleasure that I've not only not discovered since meeting him, but that I've been longing for long before I've known him. He’s an enigma, a man that terrorizes both the world and my mind.
I wonder if he can read the thoughts going through my head, because his response is an explanation that I didn’t expect to get.
“A lot of the stories people hear are often fabricated, Lorena. I have a power that I’ve needed to live up to, my father’s. While I’m good at my job, I don’t necessarily like inflicting pain just for the hell of it,” he says. I can’t help but snort in response.
“You sure haven’t hesitated when it comes to me,” I say.
“That’s because you’re different,” he says simply, matter-of-factly.
“How?” I ask.
He’s quiet for a moment and I swear I can hear the wheels turning in his head.
“Because you confuse me. You do things to me that no one has ever done before and I can’t help but become frustrated because of this. You’re a distraction. The most beautiful, infuriating, sexy distraction,” he whispers, chills erupting all over my body.
Don’t blush at that, Lori. It wasn’t a compliment.
Oh, but it sure felt like one.
“Is that why you’ve decided not to kill me? Because I make you hard?” I ask suddenly.
He leans forward then, resting his hands on my arms before he pulls me back against him, his lips at my ear when he speaks.
“I decided not to kill you as soon as I met you, princess. I’ve just been lying to myself this entire time,” he admits, shocking me, but I don’t speak because I want him to continue. I need to hear his truth.
He sighs, rubbing a hand across his face. “I have a family to protect, Lori. My family means more to me than any amount of money or power ever could. And when my father was taken from me… I couldn’t think about anything other than vengeance since. Your father took something irreplaceable from me. He shattered my family for his own greed. All I have is my mother and my men and I’ll be damned if I let any of them be taken from me as well,” he admits, my heart sinking in my chest as tears fill my eyes.
I can’t ever imagine my father killing another person, but then again, he’s in this business to. He’s probably killed lots of people, I've just chosen to ignore it. Because I couldn’t handle it, just like I can’t really handle this.
“I’m cold now. I want to get out,” I say, moving away from him and standing before I step out of the tub and search for a towel.
He beats me to it, following me out with a fresh towel in hand, wrapping it around my body as he steps behind me. He pulls me towards him then, spinning me around so that I’m facing him when he speaks.
“I meant what I said. I was never going to kill you. And while apologizing is not really my forte, I do admit that I acted a little too aggressive towards you, but you have to understand why,” he says, dressing himself in his clothes now as I stand before him in just a towel.
When he’s fully clothed, he holds my cheek in his hand.
“I don’t trust you, Lori. Our lives won’t allow me to,” he says.
“I understand,” I say finally. Sadness fills my voice.
