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“Is she home now?” Nico’s voice comes through, and I can hear Damian struggling in the background, followed by other voices. I’m assuming he called for his backup to come finish the job.
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll be home soon.”
Why did he call to check on me? He could’ve just tracked me.
The call ends, and Giulio parks. I let myself out, and we head to the elevator and make our way to the penthouse. When I walk off to our bedroom, I climb into the shower and scrub my body. Not just wanting Damian’s blood off me but all the times he touched me. I want to erase him from my body and forget him. I feel filthy—from his touch and the exploitation he submitted me to without me knowing. I scrub until my skin is nearly raw and beet-red before stepping out.
I grab the towel and wrap it around my body, stepping up to the mirror and looking myself over.
I should feel disgusted for cutting his finger and for allowing Nico to continue, but I don’t. The only thing I feel disgusted over is what he did to me.
I would ponder more on this, but I hear the bedroom door open.
“Nico?” I have so many questions.
“Yes.” His low timbre echoes in the room.
I rush out of the bathroom and see his white shirt is stained red, and his hands are splattered as well.“Did you…?”
“No. I need him to send a message to your father. I heard he was working for him again, and I want to make sure your father knows what I’m capable of.” He undoes each button of his shirt, and I watch him intently.
“Okay, but what will that mean? How do you know he’s working for my father again?” I ask, tucking my wet hair behind my ear.
“It’s amazing what you can get out of people when you’re torturing them, Emelia.”
I gulp, shaking my head and trying to process it all.“What message is it you’re trying to send?”
He shrugs. “A reminder that he betrayed someone in my outfit, his own flesh, so he should keep his trash in line.”
“No,” I snap, my brain no longer functioning on some autopilot program.
“Excuse me?” he prompts, now shirtless. His brows draw in, and he challenges me with just a look.
“That's not why you did it. You care about me, Nico! You do. You wouldn't have done that if some part of you didn’t care about me. This isn't a pissing contest or anything other than you wanting to care for me.”
What am I saying? We are enemies, practically, except when our clothes are off.
“Emelia, I'm not in the mood. Stop reading into shit.” He shakes his head and moves past me to the bathroom. I follow hot on his tail as he starts washing his hands.
“No, I’m not reading into anything. You care, Nico. You want to get to know me. My challenging you at every corner has earned your respect, and the way we touch in the bedroom has made you want to knowusmore. Admit it!” I yell, and he slams the handle on the faucet down and briskly turns.
“You are acting like a fucking child. I did you a favor. I handled a threat like any mafia boss would if someone fucked with his wife. It was protocol.”
“Oh, bullshit, Nico! That’s crap and you know it!” I come up to stand off with him.
“Emelia, I don't know you, and you don’t know me.”
I throw my hands up in annoyance.“What do you want to know? My favorite color is yellow, but I look like shit in it. I hate deep bodies of water, because something will eat me. I hate men who don't respect women. I had a terrible childhood. I love to read and watch stupid, corny movies where the humor hardly makes sense. What? What do you need to know about me to admit that you care!”
“I don’t fucking care about you, Emelia, and I will never love you! If that is what you’re wanting from me, forget it. I don't love you. I will never see this as anything other than just a transaction!” he yells back, and his words cut me to the bone, truly hurting me.
I don't want him to love me… do I?
No, I just want him to like me. To show me I’m not alone. That I have a friend. But that's clearly all in my head, a way-off dream that will never come true.
“You are an asshole. You had a chance to be my friend. We could have been something. I didn't need your love. I just wantedsomething. Something monsters aren't capable of.” I leave him and grab my clothes off the bed before leaving the room. I dress in one of the guest bedrooms, and that’s where I fall asleep. I have nothing to give right now but my silence. And somewhere deep inside, there is something brewing, and I fear what she is.
