Page 73 of Cardinal

Juliet

Fucking bastard!

And fuck me for being so stupid and naïve! Seriously, how could I have been so, ugh!

The temptation to punch the wall or my computer monitor gnawed at my clenched fists as I paced around my room.

Everything inside of me felt like a mess. I was extremely hurt and sad, so much so that it felt like someone caved my chest in and squeezed at my heart. Then, my own idiocy made me feel like the damn teenager everyone claimed me to be. I really couldn't believe I got played like that.

I let him in, trusted him, gave him everything, only for him to play me. Then how I believed him, the lies he fed me… When he told me he loved me. It was all a fucking lie!

I had no one but myself to blame for all this hurt because I gave him the ammo to use against me. This damn heartache, me. These tears, me. My fucked-up life, me. I let myself grow comfortable around a damn mafia man. How fucking stupid of me. I really should have known better, especially after he warned me so blatantly. I shouldn't have listened and fallen for his empty promises.

I would be a sad, sobbing mess in bed right now if I hadn't let him in.

The whole fucked up part of all this was how hypocritical he was. He said he didn't traffic humans or partook in such activities, yet he fucking bought me from my parents. My parents were already on my shit list, but hearing about how they sold me out way before Carol put them higher on my shitlist.

Besides the fact he stooped as low as them, I was upset at how he toyed with my emotions despite knowing the shit I went through. I was even more furious at myself for loving him back.

God, and just when I was about to let him… I couldn't fucking believe it. I was ready to give myself fully to him, which was why I got that damn gift that still sat in my bag. I don't know what I would do with it now, maybe chuck it into the ocean or a volcano.

Letting out a frustrated cry, I rubbed at my sore and puffy eyes.

I hated how all I could do was cry about everything in bed like a sad sack of shit, but I couldn't find it in myself to muster up any kind of energy to do anything. Even the thought of marching my ass back down to the office to sock Luciano in the face again was losing its appeal. All I wanted to do was rest my tired eyes and sleep the rest of my life away.

Yeah, sleep sounded nice right now.

Unfortunately, that plan went out the window at the sound of knocking on my door. Whatever dying energy I had flared back up into full-blown madness at the sound of Luciano's voice from the other side of the door. And silly me for thinking Luciano would fucking leave. Damn bastard kicked my damn door in. Seriously, what was his problem with breaking his property? First, the balcony doors, now my room door.

I wasn't in the mood or in the right headspace to deal with him, though.

Whatever anger bottled up within me exploded upon the sight of Luciano, and I didn't bother trying to control it. Object after object, whatever I could get my hands on, was thrown at Luciano until he stopped before me and dropped to his knees.

I wanted to tell him to fuck off and shove him off, but my words refused to leave my mouth the moment he spilled everything. As he spoke, I found myself listening when I probably shouldn't. I mean, how could I believe what lies came out of his mouth now? They didn't feel or sound like lies, and I wanted to keep my walls up.

But damn those sad eyes of his.

The moment he looked up at me with his tear-strewn face and broken eyes filled with sincerity and genuineness, I felt everything crumble around me. I might regret this, but damn my heart for going back to him after he ripped it apart.

Slap!

The pain in my own hand from slapping him again was worth it.

"I hate that I can't not love you." My calm voice shook with my angry exhale as I looked down at him with a tense face. "But that doesn't mean I fully forgive you. You are going to have to earn everything back."

Hesitantly, I threaded my fingers through his hair, gripping the back of it to force him to crane his neck to look up at me. "I want proof. I want proof that what happened with my parents isn't true. I want you to prove every damn second of every fucking day that the feelings you claim for me are true. Prove to me with your actions and words that you cannot live without me."

Out of pure resentment, I tightened my grip on his hair until he visibly winced. Then, slowly, I leaned down until a mere inch separated us. "And if you want to put your ring on my finger, then you will spoil me with the blood of my enemies. Until all the bodies of the bastards who raped me are beaten and bloodied at my feet, where my face will be the last thing they see before Hell, don't even think about proposing to me until then."

"Consider it done. I will do anything." I shouldn't be finding any satisfaction in how desperate and miserable he sounded, but the fact that he slipped into such a state all for me made me feel powerful.

Sweeping my tongue across my lips, I let the devious smirk present itself on my face. "And I want Carol dead. I want her to suffer, and then I want her to burn down in the cursed lounge after I throw a match at it. I want my revenge, and I want it painful and bloody."

Bringing my other hand up to his face, I slowly trailed the tip of my finger down his cheek, across his jawline to his lips, and lightly traced the seam of them. "And after all of that, you will treat me like your fucking queen for the rest of your life."

"Yes, amorina." His airy reply came as he leaned into my touch.

The coarseness of his beard tickled my fingers and palms as I splayed my hand under his jaw, slowly pressing into him and holding his face for a moment to admire the image of this man melting before me. Until I remembered that I was pissed at him. My grip tightened out of nowhere, my nails digging into him as I jerked his face. "And you better not pull any more dominant shit with me. We are playing by my rules until I say."

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