Page 26 of To Hell

The man bounces his eyes between Ettore and me, not taking his hand off my face. He draws his brows together with each bounce of his eyes. Then he lets go and stands.

“You know her,” Cesare scoffs. He is not asking, and the way he said that I could tell he was not pleased with something—with my being here.

I watch both of them. One is confused, and the other is menacing like he will rip anything that comes near me apart.

“We need to talk,” Cesare mutters as he brushes past Ettore to go up the stairs, his gun still dangling around his fingers.

Ettore stands stoic, observing me. “Are you alright?” He means to sound caring, but the harshness of his possessiveness is still there, and it sounds frightening.

Still, I nod, knowing who the master is. Knowing who my master is.

He nods, then turns and goes up the stairs, leaving me to choke on the tension trailing after them.

I pick up my pencil, sketchbook, and magazines, hugging them to my chest as my heart resumes beating.

Nothing makes sense. I’m lost. I do not understand what just happened.

But I can find my way back knowing I’m his.

It was the sanity totem I never knew I needed, but now I won’t ever let it go.

I’m his.

Chapter Fifteen

VIRGILIO

Iprobably already know what he wants to talk about, and I don’t fucking want to hear it.

I keep stalking behind Cesare as he pads down the hallway, humming the same song that he’s been obsessed with ever since he woke up from the coma years ago. The same song that was playing in the background before he passed out.

He stops in front of a door, the door adjacent to Zoe’s room, and lingers before twisting the knob and pushing it open.

He goes in, and I do the same, entering my home office.

I do not like the feeling that he is about to drill me for answers I would rather not give. He asks too many questions. I normally wouldn’t mind, but any question about Zoe is going to bug me.

I’m itching already.

He had his hand on her. He was fucking touching her.

I knew I said I didn’t want to have sex with her again, but I fucking said that to protect her. To not complicate things. Not because I do not want her, nor because refraining from touching her is easy.

It’s the fucking hardest shit I have had to endure.

Knowing she is under the same roof as me, that she can do whatever the fuck I want her to do for me, that she wants me to touch her just as much as I do... it’s hard to be in control.

For the sake of her future. For the sake of the dream I took away from her. I should have never asked her to go alone to Milan.

Now that I have her with me, I’m trying to fucking do better by the both of us.

Cesare tosses his handgun on the desk in the corner, then stomps over, cursing under his breath to rip the thick curtains apart for sunlight to pour in.

It is no news that I enjoy privacy. Sunlight or any light, when too much, feels like an intruder. My need for privacy pushed me to get an estate with this kind of structure, where he and our mother could have their own homes detached from mine but not too far away that I could not get to them when necessary or too near for them to breeze in and intrude unnecessarily.

I sit by the edge of the table and grip it, waiting for him to spill.

He keeps staring outside the window, nodding, hands on his waist and shoulders bunched in that way that tells me he is having a hard time grasping things.

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