Page 30 of Untouchable

The line goes quiet for a moment before he speaks again. “Where is Seraphina?”

“She is busy.”

“Doing what?” He snaps.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, attempting to control my breathing. As much as I would love to tear this little prick a new asshole, I have bigger shit to worry about right now.

“Look, it has been a really long fucking day for both of us. She will call you in the morning.”

“No!” He barks. “I want to talk to her right now.”

“She will call you,tomorrow,” I enunciate slowly.

“Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit! Let me talk to her right fucking now!” He seethes through the phone.

The venom in his voice is enough to catch me a little by surprise. Every interaction I have ever had with him, he has always been as cool as cucumber, only letting his dislike for me slip when everyone else seemingly appeared busy. But if this rich prick thinks he comes off even a little intimidating, then he is just fooling himself.

“Not going to happen. Not tonight.”

The phone goes completely silent for several seconds. I have to look at it to make sure that the call hasn’t dropped. Wish it would have.

“Fine,” he says, sounding all too calm. “Just remember whose bed she belongs in, whose name she cries out at night, whose ring she will wear when this is all over,” he says tauntingly before ending the call.

My breathing becomes ragged, and my chest begins to quickly rise and fall as the anger inside of me starts to boil. She fucked him? The perfect little virgin gave it up, tohim? She…they…

Suddenly, it is like I leave my body and a wild beast takes my place.

“FUCK!” I roar as I wind my arm back and toss the phone against the wall, shattering it into a million pieces.

Crossing the room in two large steps, I walk up to the bathroom door, lift my leg and kick it down. The door bangs against the wall as one of the cheap hinges splinters apart but I couldn’t give a shit right now.

Seraphina whips her head out from behind the shower curtain as she holds it up to hide her body.

“Alessandro! What the fuck?” She snarls.

“Have you fucked him?” I ask steadily, doing my best to contain the rage inside of me.

“Wait, what?”

“Tell me you haven’t actually screwed that prick.”

“What the fuck? Get out!” She shouts.

“Have you?” I growl.

My hands are trembling at my sides despite the fact that I have them balled into tight fists. I can feel my nostrils flaring with every breath that I take, and I feel only seconds away from burning this whole shitty motel to the ground.

“That is none of your business! I am a 20-year-old woman. If I want to have sex with my long-term boyfriend who loves me, then I will. Why do you even care? You’ve barely even been able to look at me over the last 2 years. What’s it to you?”

So many emotions flare inside of me, and I begin to feel the overwhelming urge to kill something, preferably Aiden fucking Ferguson. I don’t know what answer I was expecting but her pretty much admitting that she sleeps with him and that it is none of my business enrages me even more than when that sick fuck had his nasty hands all over her today before I shot him dead.

Different truths and lies run through my mind but I settle on the one that will do the most damage as I mask my expression and look at her calmly.

“Just didn’t take you for a whore. Guess we all can be wrong from time to time.”

I will be honest. I didn’t see the slap coming. The sharp sting that comes from her wet hand is enough to make my eyes water. My head is still turned, and I keep it there for a moment as the weight of what I just said to her settles into my stomach, turning me sick in an instant.

When I look over to her, I see tears dropping freely down her cheeks as her wet blonde hair frames her face and her bottom lip quivers.

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