Page 14 of DeLuca: The Devil

“Too far away. Come sit beside me.”

I do as I’m told and rise from my chair and move to the seat beside him.

He stares at me as I keep my head down. I have no make-up, and I know how ugly I look. I know he doesn’t find me attractive, but I don’t want him to be repulsed by me, either.

“Look at me, Bellissima.”

Lifting my head, I meet his gaze. Instantly his eyes turn a shade darker than his normal brown color, “What the fuck happened in that shower?”

“What?”

“You heard me. Did you fall?”

Shaking my head, I say, “No. Of course not. The bruises were from before. I don’t have any make-up to cover them. If you get me some, I’ll take care of it so you don’t have to look at them.”

He rises abruptly, grabs one of the empty chairs, and throws it across the room. I respond the way Enzo would expect me to. I get out of my chair and drop to my knees, lower my head, and wait for the beating. Domenic is much larger than Enzo, so I know it will be bad.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing, Sir. Until you give me instructions I will not move. I know I deserve the beating.”

Repeating the words Enzo requires me to say makes me sick to my stomach, but what choice do I have. I must swallow my pride and survive. That is after all, the motto of my life. Just survive.

Chapter Eleven

DOMENIC

Her words leave me fucking speechless. I know I deserve the beating.

I kneel on the floor in front of her, “Giada, who did this to you?”

The image of my mother and sister flash through my mind as I stare at the marks on Giada’s face.

She doesn’t respond, only keeps staring at some imaginary spot on the floor. I take her chin between my thumb and forefinger and gently lift her head until her gaze meets mine, “Did your father do this to you, Bellissima?”

Baretti is a despicable piece of garbage so it wouldn’t surprise me, but she shakes her head no.

“Enzo,” she whispers.

The amount of bruises she has likely didn’t happen in one night. I knew that when I asked her what happened in the shower. But I didn’t see any marks on her when we were in my bedroom. Some bruises are bluish-purple, and some are yellow, but they nearly cover her entire face.

“How many times?”

She shrugs her shoulders, “A lot. I don’t remember.”

“You think I’ll do the same?”

Looking away from me she swallows hard and whispers, “Yes. If not now, eventually.”

I wrap my arms around her and pull her into my arms, “That’s not why they call me the devil, Bellissima. I will never beat you. It’s true I’m not a good man. Still, I don’t abuse women. I am a strong man, too strong for that. Only weak men hurt women.”

I wrap my arms around her, holding her tight, while she presses the side of her face into my chest. I don’t want to admit it, even to myself, but it feels good holding her like this.

“He will die painfully for doing this to you.”

Bianchi was already on my hit list. He was going to die before I saw this but now his worst fears will be realized. I have no tolerance for abusers. I have done horrendous things in my life. However, I’ve never laid a hand on a woman that wasn’t justified. Sure, there've been a few that I’ve killed because they’ve come after my family. I have not forgotten that’s exactly what Giada did. Somehow, I think there’s more to the story. I’m not sure this woman had much of a choice. At this very moment I’m not sure she’s ever had a choice in anything.

Pulling her head away from my chest, she gazes at me, “Thank you, Dom,” she says in a breathy voice that speaks to my dick.

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