Page 14 of Vicious Heir

Lust and desire and something I don’t recognize fucking burn inside of me, and I shake my head, willing it to die where I stand. Because it’s in this moment, as I stand on a busy city street, that I remember who I am and why I never should’ve continued getting closer to her. Why I don’t touch beautiful things. Why I should’ve never fucking inserted myself into her life, no matter how badly I ache to.

I ruin beautiful things.

7

EVELINA

It’s a tough pill to swallow.

Jagged edges slice at my throat as I head toward my destination, knowing I’m probably not in the best headspace to make a lifelong decision but deciding to say fuck it.

My mind is a jumbled mess of relief and anger, and the emotions warring inside of me are so confusing that I don’t know what or how to fully let myself feel them.

Maybe it’s just my ego that’s shredded. I’ve known my husband was up to no good, but I just didn’t suspect cheating, not at first. Not until the seed was planted. And while I’ve been done with this marriage for a while now, and planning and plotting and hoping for something I can go to Romeo DeSantis with…it’s still a hit to my pride.

Those old, searing doubts infiltrate my mind.

Why was I not enough? What could I have done?

I shake my head as they poke at my brain.

I’m not fucking doing this. I’m simply not. I am done letting Enzo screw with my sense of self-worth. Something I worked on and built up for so many years before he came into my life.

As much as Niccolò’s words pissed me off, he was right. I was so much stronger before him. And while I still catch glimpses of that woman, I’ve had to hide her away, lock her away, and become someone focused on survival.

Not for much longer.

I feel it in my bones.

I will never compromise my strength or growth for a piece-of-shit man again.

Fuck Enzo. And fuck Niccolò for finding humor in my downfall.

My mind flashes to those weeks when I was young. To the abduction. To the first time I realized I had to be strong to survive—that I couldn’t depend on anyone else to save me. I’ve become so used to pushing those memories away instead of sitting with them.

A tear rolls down my cheek when I think about my family. About my sister. About those weeks spent being that man’spet.

About how I saved myself, but I couldn’t saveher.

Something tells me I just need to allow myself to feel this. To allow my old grief to fester. Let it consume me and swallow me and then come back stronger again. Maybe I’m trying not to think of what my life has become, or maybe for the first time since I was twelve, I’m going to actually fucking process my trauma.

One more loan tear escapes and rolls down my cheek as I open the shop of Wasted Youth, Roxy’s tattoo parlor. The minute I step inside and hear the heavy metal music thundering from the speakers and see the colorful artwork hanging on every single square inch of the wall, I feel more at home than I’ve felt in a long time.

“Ev!” Roxy shouts over the music and swivels around on her stool a few times, letting her legs kick out as she spins. “The fuck are you doing here?”

She stands as I walk over to her, and she gives me a kiss on the cheek, which I return. She’s wearing some weird vintage platform sneakers that are the true definition of platform, so she’s towering over me when we usually stand at about the same height.

“I mean, I’m all for you finally getting out of the house after the sun is down, but to what do I owe the pleasure?” She hooks her thumbs in the straps of her distressed overalls that are covering a Pantera band T-shirt and cocks her head at me.

“I’m finally ready to let you tattoo me,” I say, scrunching up my nose and attempting to smile.

Because I am. I’m so ready. But this is my first tattoo, and I’ve never been great with pain.

I glance down at her table she was just sitting at and look at her unfinished sketch. “I was and am prepared to wait however long. I know you’re typically booked. But I thought if I bribed you with my love, then maybe you could do it before you close up tonight.”

I give her a cheesy smile, although I still feel like I wanna die on the inside, and she jumps up and down like a giddy child.

“Fucking A, are you serious?” she squeals. “Actually, my last appointment of the night ghosted me, so I’ve just been working on a piece for later this week. I’m so fucking down.”

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