Page 25 of Sardonic Burn

Cecilia sighs in relief and grabs my wrist. She pulls me inside and locks the door before taking me to her bathroom. I’m too numb to function on my own and don’t find it in me to care as she starts stripping me down.

I’m pushed under a stream of warm water, the solid blood on me slowly starts rinsing off. Cecilia offers a helping hand and starts scrubbing me down, paying close attention to my hands, hair and face.

“What in the world happened, Noah?”

I can’t speak.

Warm water falls down my body, and her soft hands remove all the filth. My eyes close of their own accord, and I’m barely keeping myself together. I need fucking answers, and I don’t have anyone who will give them to me.

Once she’s done, she wraps my hair and body in two separate towels and leads me to her living room. She opens a bottle of wine and just gives it to me. No glasses, no question of if I want it—she knows that I need alcohol.

The moment the bottle is in my hands, I start chugging it down, ignoring Cecilia’s look of disbelief. My hands tremble, and I struggle to hold the bottle properly. I don’t care what it tastes like. I don’t care that it’s straight out of her fridge. All I care about is getting it all in my system.

Half of the bottle is gone in the blink of an eye, and the pathetic trembling of my body stops. I put the bottle on the small table in front of me and throw myself on her pretty, comfortable couch.

“So, are you going to tell me, or should I wait until dead bodies show up at my doorstep?”

Cecilia De Luca is the younger daughter of the current Italian mafia boss. Her older sister, Victoria, is set to get the title after their father passes. It works in Cecilia’s favor perfectly; she never wanted the Dona title in the first place.

That’s why she’s staying as far away from Italy as possible.

“The story is quite long,” I mumble into her pillow.

Cecilia snatches the pillow and throws it across the room. Her eyes narrow at me, and I realize there’s no place for me to run or hide.

“I have time.” She smiles threateningly.

I start from the very beginning. From the day my aunt died up until tonight’s events. Cecilia doesn’t interrupt me, but her expression tells me everything I need to know. She’s shocked, in disbelief, and has no idea if I’m telling her a dream I had or if this is my reality.

A frown appears on her face as she hugs a soft pillow, crossing her legs in front of her and sprawling on the floor. She’s sipping on the wine, her expression changing from a frown to a wince in a millisecond.

“So? What’s the deal with coming to me this late, Noah?”

I pause, pursing my lips.

After all of those men were dead, Father and Henrick returned from the other room, pissed beyond belief. The attackers snuck in through the back and tried to catch them by surprise, but it was unsuccessful.

But they did kill our drivers.

Bastards.

Instead of driving me to his manor or my home, I told Father to take me to Cecilia’s place. He was probing me with multiple questions at once, but, to me, it was all a haze. I barely heard his voice. I was just… numb. And I needed my best friend.

I take a deep breath and look at Cecilia.

There’s anticipation on her face as she tries to hide a small smile. She clears her throat and makes sure her attention is only on me.

“Why would he do that?” I blurt out.

Cecilia blinks. “What?”

“Why would he lick blood off my face?”

“I’m sorry. Rewind.” She raises her index finger, brows shooting up to her hairline. “He did what?”

“He licked blood off my face.”

“And in the middle of them killing Luciella, you killing Franco, him stabbing you, then choking you, then you stabbing his shoulder and the two of you killing countless people together in record time, that’s what you’re curious about?”

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