Page 35 of Alessio

June

Five years later

I’m done. Tears well up in my eyes for the third time in two days and I can’t explain it to anyone because no one would understand that my husband doesn’t love me anymore. He hasn’t touched me in a week, hasn’t made love to me in as long, and has made every excuse to run off to Dario’s when he can.

I wonder if he’s having an affair. Last week he came home in different clothes and he’d been gone all night. Something I’d never seen him do before. We’ve never gone this long without sex except after I give birth, and even then, he can’t stop touching me, kissing, and telling me how much he loves me. This is painful. Turning on the shower, I undress and stand under the hot water, letting flow down my back soothing the ache from my workout, but nothing can sooth the broken heart.

He wants to ignore me and the kids, well two can play that game. We’ll just take a little trip and not tell daddy where we’re going. I quickly get out of the shower and dress. After the incident with Michael, I’ve learned to drive myself around and I have a female guard around the house. Maybe she… I gasped, “That bitch.”

“No, she’s more likely into me.” Anyway, I go and get out sons dressed and pack a few things I need. My phone suddenly rings.

“Do you mind telling me where the fuck you think you’re going?”

“What are you talking about, Mr. D’Amato?”

“Excuse me, wife. What did you just call me?”

“By your name.” I can hear the irritation in his voice, but I don’t care. Why is he all of a sudden interested in my activities.

“My sweet rose, we have a problem here. Get your ass in our room right now before I get home.”

“Why the fuck should I take orders from you?”

“Since when do you speak that way around our sons?”

“Since when do you care?”

“Amore, we’ve got a serious problem. Get the fuck in that bedroom before I count to ten or I’m going to make you pay heavily.”

“No. I’m leaving, Alessio. You can go on seeing whatever whore you’re seeing.”

With a loud bang, I’m startled by his office door flying open and hitting the wall. Storming out is my husband, tugging off his tie. “Dario, will you take the boys to your house? I need to remind my wife where she fucking belongs.”

“Will the weekend be enough time?”

“Sounds great.” I’m over his shoulder and he’s taking the steps two at a time, growling and snarling, speaking in Italian the entire way up. I don’t understand a single word, but it sounds dark and sexy coming out of his filthy mouth.

The second the door to our bedroom is thrown open, he carries me in and tosses me on the mattress. I bounce on and try to make a run for it. Alessio’s too quick and his thick hand wraps around my waist, lifting me up, setting me in the center of the bed. With my arms stretched over my head, tugs his tie all the way off and uses it to bind my wrists.

“I told you one day I’d tie you to the bed if you tried to leave. Well, I guess today is that motherfucking day.” He stands up and walks to the door, I think he’s going to leave, but he locks it.

“Why?”

“Why What?”

“Why tie me up when you don’t obviously want me here?”

“I know what this is about, amore.”

“Stop calling me that when you don’t mean it.”

“Enough.” He heads into the closet and pulls out a pair of scissors that I hid from the kids. “These will do.” He grabs my blouse and cuts right up the middle. “Perfect.”

“What the hell, Alessio. I just got that.”

“I don’t give a fuck. You’re not going anywhere, anyway. You think you can leave me because I don’t fuck that tight little hole for nine fucking days.”

“It’s more than that.” He grabs my shoes and takes them off as he goes my socks I kick him, but he’s quick and I hit his side only.

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