Page 124 of Beautiful Desire

A wave of guilt hits me, knowing I’m the reason she was taken in the first place. I need to tell her. I can’t hide this any longer.

Giving her a tense smile, I say, “Let’s get you two inside. There’s something I need to tell you.”

The look of relief quickly vanishes from her face and is replaced with unease before she looks back down at Lily.

“It’s okay. Lily’s fine.”

I stand, waiting for Elle to move first. My hands grow sweaty and my pulse increases; I know the conversation we’re about to have isn’t going to be an easy one.

Elle looks into my eyes, right down into my soul, before turning and making her way back to the house.

CHAPTER37

ARTURO/DOM

Twenty Years Ago – Sicily

When we arrived back home,I came straight up to my room. I needed to be away from my father and everyone else in this so-called family. How do they live with themselves, knowing what they have done? I swallow the bile that starts to rise as the image of Massimo’s cold, lifeless body tied to the chair sticks clear in my mind. It will haunt me until the day I die.

Stripping out of my clothes, I walk into the bathroom, turn on the shower, and jump in. I need to wash the blood and brain matter off me. My stomach hurts from retching. I feel hollow after everything that’s happened. Panic flows through my veins as the piping hot water falls down my head and over my face. I scrub at my face with the water, hoping it will somehow get rid of this feeling that’s settled in the pit of my stomach from the second I pulled that trigger.

I need to get out of here. I won’t continue the rest of my life like this. If this is what I must do to remain a part of this family, then I want nothing to do with it. I need to run. Get as far away as I can. I have to. For Mass.

I need to tell Bianca what has happened.

Grabbing the shower gel, I lather it up and rub it all over my body, using my hands and nails to scrub as I go along, hoping eventually this feeling might wear off. Unfortunately, it makes no difference. After around ten minutes of repeating the process, I finally exit the shower, grab a towel, and quickly dry off.

Making my way back into my bedroom, I open the drawers and throw on some boxer briefs, socks, dark wash jeans, a t-shirt, and a dark navy hoodie. Reaching into the far corner of my closet, I pull out the small duffel bag and fling it over my shoulder. My heart thumps loudly in my chest. If I get caught, all of this will have been for nothing.

Opening the door, I peek out, looking up and down the hallway. I exit the room and quietly make my way down the hallway toward the staircase. As I approach the top of the stairs, the entire house has fallen silent, everyone no doubt drinking and celebrating my initiation, even though I’m not there. Looking around, I find the entrance at the front door and surrounding areas empty.

Quickly tiptoeing my way down the stairs, I turn left and head for the back hallway, taking me to the maids’ living area. I stop at the door and knock lightly, not wanting anyone else to hear. The soft cries I can hear from the other side of the door make me feel sick to my core. I don’t know what she’s going to say or how she’s going to react, but I need to tell her to leave. Massimo wouldn’t want her to stay here.

The cries stop and the door slowly opens, revealing Bianca standing in the doorway, her face red and puffy from her tears.

“Arturo.” Shock is evident in her voice when she sees me.

I gently push past her into her room and quietly close the door behind me.

“Bianca, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was Massimo when I first saw him, and I knew that if I didn’t go through with it, Papa still would.” My voice cracks as tears build in my eyes when I speak.

“You’re just a boy, Arturo. This is your father’s doing, you hear me? Do not carry this guilt with you,” Bianca replies, her voice heavy with emotion as a few stray tears roll down her face.

Dropping my head, I try to get a handle on my own emotions. “Mass and I had planned on leaving. He wouldn’t want you to stay here. You need to pack a bag. We don’t have much time.”

Her brows crease in confusion.

“Turo, what are you talking about? I can’t leave. Guil—your father would find me and—” She cuts herself off, not needing to finish the sentence, because both of us know what he would do.

“Bianca, you can’t stay here. He’ll hurt you too. Please,” I try again, begging her to leave.

“Someday, when you’re a man – not like your father – you’ll understand what it’s like to love your child.” Lifting her hand, she wipes away a tear as it rolls down my cheek.

“I promised Mass—”

Shaking her head, she cuts me off.

“Go, Turo. I’ll be okay. Go and live your life, for you and for Massimo. Si?” she says, choking back her tears.

---