Page 20 of Let Vengeance Be Mine

I can’t pinpoint when everything changed, but what I do know is that nothing can ever go back to being normal. Is it wrong that I don’t miss my father? That the only person I want to be around is Matteo? Even if it is, I don’t think I care. I like the idea of the life he has planned for us.

The door knocks and when I call whoever it is in, Demitri smiles at me politely, as he places a tray of food on the bed.

“So, you’re my servant, as well as my protector, now?” I sit up, making sure I’m covered by the blanket as I examine what's been sent up for me.

“Matteo figured you might want to stay in bed today, he’s had to leave town. He will be back tomorrow evening.”

“He never told me.” I frown when I realize how much that hurts.

“You will learn that Matteo can be spontaneous.” He widens his eyes and prepares to leave.

“Wait.” I stop him. “What else can you tell me about Matteo?” I doubt he’ll give me much of an answer. I know, from being the daughter of a Mafia boss, that men like Demitri earn their positions from loyalty.

“I can tell you not to fall in love with him, but I think it’s a little late for that.” A faint smile pulls on his stern lips.

“I’m not…I can’t.” I shake my head, though the little voice inside my head tells me that he’s right.

“What do you think he will do when my father finds out where I am and tries to take me back?” I ask when those unwanted niggles start to override my happiness.

“I think he will do whatever it takes to keep you, and you need to be prepared for that.” Any trace of a smile has disappeared from his face.

“I want to know what my father did,” I tell him.

“Then you will have to ask Matteo, on his return.” Demitri leaves before I can ask him any more questions; I breathe out an exasperated breath and let myself fall back onto my pillow.

There has to be a way for me to fix this. As far as my father is concerned, I left the island of my own free will. He doesn’t know how me and Matteo came to be.

Just thinking about it all makes my head hurt, is it too much to ask that, maybe, what me and Matteo have could be accepted by my father? Even if it could, I fear Matteo’s hate for him runs far too deep. I mustn’t forget that it’s the reason I was brought here. Having Matteo around, and being fucked seven days through to Sunday for the past few weeks has made it easy to forget what a complicated situation I’m in.

I eat a little of the food that was brought up for me but don’t really feel hungry. Then, after showering and getting myself dressed, I decide to take advantage of Matteo’s absence and explore the house.

I know the room I sleep in isn’t his, he only occasionally spends the night sleeping beside me, so I wander the halls and check out the many rooms inside his mansion. I find one completely empty room, a storage closet, a gym and a massive bathroom before I twist the handle of the second, but last, door I have left to explore. When I step inside, what I see makes my breath catch in my throat. The room is spacious, like all the others, the walls crisp white and the carpet deep and soft under my bare feet. There’s a cradle placed by the window and a rocking chair in the corner beside a bookshelf that is full of classic children’s stories.

I move toward the chair and sit in it, looking around the room and wondering how long it’s been like this. The furniture looks antique, but the walls are freshly painted and the carpet smells new. I try to imagine myself sitting here with a child in my arms, and the vision comes so easily, I wonder if what Matteo so desperately wants to give me, is what I’ve always wanted. A chance to show love in a way that I never received it. I never knew my mother, she died a few days after I was born. I don’t know what she looked like or how her voice sounded. She never sang me to sleep or hugged me in her arms when I got hurt or sick. My father tells me he loved her, but I have heard many rumors over the years that she was just his whore.

I rest easy in the chair, rocking it back and forth while my hand rests on my flat stomach and I wonder what kind of mother I will make. Growing up the staff, my father paid to raise me, were firm but fair. They showed little affection toward me, yet still treated me like I was made of glass. I assume that was out of fear of my father. No one wanted to be responsible for the great Stevan Fucchini’s little girl getting hurt. It’s funny how people presume things, Matteo made the same presumption when he took me. He thought taking something precious to my father would weaken him, but there is a fault in his plan. The fact that the only thing my father holds precious is his empire. To him, I am just a possession, a pawn he can use in his game. Even the people I call friends were chosen for me by him, selected by their parents’ stature, and what it can do for him. My father will be furious when he realizes Matteo has me, but not for the reasons Matteo assumes. He will be mad because something was taken from him, and no one takes from Stevan Fucchini.

I don’t know how long I sit rocking in the chair, but I feel a strong sense of comfort being in here, a hope for the future and the chance of a fresh start for me, and for Matteo. As I look out the huge window, I smile to myself as I imagine him chasing a toddler outside on his pristine lawn. And that's when I realize that I don’t just want to please him. I want there to be a child growing inside me, just as much as he does.

MATTEO

“Do you have work to do, today?” she asks, getting up from her seat at the breakfast table and sitting on the table in front of me. I can tell she’s still mad at me for leaving without saying goodbye, but some things require urgency, and what I had to do couldn’t be avoided.

“There is always work to do.” I smile, taking her hand and licking the syrup from her fingers. “Did you have something in mind?”

“A walk around the gardens, maybe a drive into the local town. I don’t even know where that is.” Aria plays with the cuff of my shirt and tries being all cutesy, maybe her little act might work if I hadn’t woken up with her lips wrapped around my cock. I swear the girl is developing some kind of syndrome, you hear about people falling in love with their captors as a coping mechanism. I don’t want to be Aria's coping mechanism. I’ve learnt over the past few weeks that I want to be the start, and end, of her world.

“It is not safe for us to go into town, not while your father is looking for you,” I tell her, lifting her nightdress up her body and leaning her back as I place soft delicate kisses over her flat, toned stomach to distract her from that fact. When I reach her tits I hold one in my hand as I roll my tongue around her nipple, and clasp it gently between my teeth.

“Ouch!” She winces, pulling away from me. I fight against her, forcing my body over hers, grabbing her wrists and pinning them to the table.

“You will take what I give you, and thank me for it.” My tongue continues to circle her nipple, and I look up and watch her succumb to me. Her head falling back and her hips lifting higher to seek me out, rolling against my hard cock to create the friction she desires.

“I like you most when you're like this,” I confess, slipping my nose over her cheek.

“Like what?” Aria’s not stupid, she already knows the answer, but I’ll give her it, regardless, because she likes the way it sounds.

“A needy, little cum-slut.” I growl my words into her ear. “Look at you, so desperate, and fucking needy. I’ve trained you perfectly.”

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