Page 31 of Veiled Vows

The young Salvatore’s eyes are distant. "There was one time... I was about twelve. She came into my room, as usual, but I had locked the door. She was a small woman, but got so angry that she broke down the door that day. She dug her nails into my face, and made me undress. She wanted me... to masturbate in front of her."

Bile rises up my throat, but I swallow it down, struggling not to gag. Images of Salvatore having to touch himself while his psycho mother watches invade my mind, refusing to leave it, and I want to put bleach in my eyes.

Salvatore plays another one, and I almost want to beg him to stop. But I can’t, I need to listen so that I can understand his reaction to me that day, even if it makes me want to crawl into a hole and die.

I wish I could go back in time, and steal him away from all of this.

The therapist is trying to get more information out of him. "Salvatore, can you tell me why your father decided to put you in therapy?"

Young Salvatore shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "He said that if I stopped being a man-whore, he will forgive me. He told me I’m sick in the head, and need someone to fix me." he mutters.

The therapist leans forward slightly. "Forgive you for what, Salvatore?"

"For taking his wife away," he says bitterly.

The therapist's voice remains steady. "Did he ever tell you why he was willing to forgive you despite all the things he accused you of?"

Young Salvatore nods slowly. "He said he needed an heir to his empire, someone who could lead it after he’s gone. And unfortunately, I am his only option."

The therapist nods. "Salvatore, can you tell me more about your mother? What happened to her?"

A shadow crosses young Salvatore's face, and he takes a deep breath before speaking. "She overdosed when I was thirteen," he tell the therapist. "I had finally grown strong enough to stop her, to push her away. She couldn't handle it."

My hand flies to my mouth. Not only did she assault him, but she also put the guilt of her death on his conscience.

How can a mother do this to her own child? What kind of fucked up person was she? I feel like I want to dig up her grave, just so I can give her a piece of my mind. This is making me lose my sanity.

"She started drinking more, taking pills," young Salvatore continues. "One day, I woke up to find her on my bed, dead. Her mouth was foaming, and her eyes were white. It was scary. She left me a note, it said that she will always love me."

The therapist is compassionate. "That must have been so hard for you, Salvatore. How did your father react?"

Young Salvatore's face hardens. "He blamed me again. We moved from Italy to the United States after her death. My dad couldn’t bear to stay there, he said that Italy reminded him of her too much." he utters. That specific recording ends there. So that’s why they moved, I always wondered.

"You were a child," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. "None of this is your fault, Salvatore."

He looks almost scared, I have never seen him with that expression on his face. I know he’s about to say something that will shake me to my core, that will change the course of our relationship.

"There’s something I need to confess," he says. "The reason I was so scared to admit that I love you is because I know I have obsessive tendencies, just like my mother. I didn’t want to taint you, to harm you. It was easier to pretend I wasn’t obsessed with you, to push you away, than to risk becoming like her."

I look away for a moment, contemplating his words. It’s then that I make a decision. If it’s sick that I want this man obsessed with me, then I’m the sickest person in the world.

When I turn back to him, I see the vulnerability he rarely shows. "I understand, and I forgive you, Salvatore. By God, I forgive you."

His entire being seems to relax. He reaches over and puts his head on my chest. I start playing with his hair, and everything feels right, like we’re the only two people in the world.

If I’d agreed to listen to him sooner, we would have reconciled a long time ago, but I was too stubborn. And maybe, he just wasn’t ready yet.

"I’m so sorry for what you’ve endured," I say. "All this time, how could you stand your father?"

"I didn’t," he chuckles darkly. "I used his wants against him. He wanted me to take over the empire? I did. But it was all under my control since I turned eighteen. Even his guards were loyalto me, not him. He thought he was pulling the strings, but every move he made was dictated by me."

"You’re incredible," I whisper.

He is just so manly, so strong despite everything he went through, that I can’t help but admire him.

He smirks, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I’ve always been in control, Serena. And now, I want you to know that I’ll use that control to protect you, to love you, to keep you safe from anything and anyone."

"I believe you," I tell him. "And I love you too.”

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