Page 95 of Maddest Temptation

“How long, Francesca? How long have you been using? Did you ever stop?” I laughed again. “Were you always high? Fuck, should I worry about things going missing in my house?” By the end of it, I was laughing, but at myself.

All of this time she had been high, and I didn’t even notice, she was good at hiding, though, just like she was with all the rest. No wonder she was always in a fucking bliss. And…

“You fucking brought drugs to my house?!” I reached that realization and looked back at her. She was looking fixedly at her hands which shook slightly. “Is that why you wanted to come? So that you could buy from Gianluca?” That name! It was giving me an ulcer. “Was it your father who beat you that day? Gianluca seemed like a good candidate to do that as well.”

She gasped again and looked back at me.

Her eyes were glassy, and I didn’t know if she was holding herself from crying or if she was too high. Still, she didn’t answer and still, I wanted to hit something. The fire running through my veins was too much.

“Can we fucking go now?” she snapped, and it honestly surprised me. She wasn’t going to answer me now, but she would as soon as we arrived, it was about time we finally talked.

“Of course.” Putting the shift gear into drive, I pressed the pedal hard.

When we arrived at my place she entered my apartment like a whirlwind, pushing the door so hard it banged against the wall. Francesca was already going up the stairs when I closed the door.

“Stop following me,” she shouted once I followed her up the stairs.

“I’m heading up,” I pointed out.

“Well, leave me alone!” Francesca snapped.

“It’s my fucking house, Francesca!” I shouted back.

She laughed sardonically, and it riled me up. She nodded. “Yeah, it is.”

With that, she entered the guest room and shut the door with enough force to break it. Not even a minute later, she opened the door and marched by me, a bag in her hand.

“Where are you going?” I shouted marching after her.

“You said it, it’s your fucking house,” she snapped, running down the stairs.

Until now, I had been calm, but there was a threshold, and she was really close to making me cross it. Francesca knew what and who I was. Knew that there was a darkness in me. But until tonight, she had never really seen it.

“Don’t you dare leave, Francesca, do you hear me?” I stopped at the bottom of the stairs, Francesca’s hand on the door.

“Why?” she asked, her voice so low that I almost didn’t catch it. She didn’t turn around to face me and it was annoying.

“Just stop running!” I shouted and it felt like an order, and in the end, it was, I was done seeing her run from everything.

She laughed out loud. “You’re kidding me.” She turned the handle and opened the door. “We’re not together, Cassio. Leave me the fuck alone.”

Francesca left through my door and something I hadn’t felt in a long while took over me. It wasn’t rage or the same iciness that made me numb, it was pure panic. I imagined her going back to her apartment—which wasn’t safe—and I imagined worse. Donato putting his hands on her, branding her like he had the last time. I had no doubt that he had been the one to beat her.

Shit. She was using again, and I didn’t see it.

She wasn’t able to reach the elevator before my hands wrapped around her waist. “Let go of me!” she screamed.

I didn’t.

Because she was twisting and turning, making it hard to grasp her, I turned Francesca around and grabbed her, throwing her over my shoulder, her bag falling to the floor. Her fists connected with my ass as she still tried to make me let go. I wasn’t going to; I meant it, she needed to stop running.

Kicking the door to my apartment shut so she wouldn’t go, I set her in the middle of the living room. Instantly she began to turn away, this time toward the kitchen. I wouldn’t be surprised if she reached for a knife, Francesca seemed to have taken a liking to them.

“Francesca!” I roared.

“You can’t hold me here by force,” she screamed.

“I’m not letting you out of that door while you’re still high.” She gave me that same sardonic laugh.

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