Page 23 of The Devil

“Mia topolina,” he whispers softly, suddenly looking hurt and fragile. “I’m not ready for you to go, but perhaps it’s for the best.” It’s hard for me to hear him say this and I don’t know how to respond without turning into a blubbering mess. “I’m going to tell you something and I trust you more than anyone not to let it go any further. I feel like I owe you an explanation after how I reacted. I want you to know I was not angry with you at all.”

“You weren’t? But the glass? The way you looked at me? You left?” I sputter it all out at once.

“I know, but I was angry with myself; I was terrified of turning into him,” he says with a heavy, sad sigh. I can tell that whatever this thing is, it’s difficult for him to talk about.

“Him?”

“Paul isn’t my biological father,” he explains, “my mother was raped when she was very young, younger than I am now.” I drop my mouth open in shock before trying to cover it with my hand. I always assumed Paul was his dad by blood as well as by any other means. “She fell pregnant and being Italian and a devout Catholic, she refused to have an abortion. Paul was her boss at the time and had always liked her from afar. He found her crying in the office one night and she let the whole story fall out of her. He helped her, found somewhere for her to live, got her proper healthcare, and even bought her baby stuff. During all of this, they fell in love with each other and that’s how they became a couple. They married after I was born and decided to raise me as his.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I reply rather unhelpfully; what do you say? “So, how did you find out?”

“Turns out her rapist didn’t live far from here and he found out about her marriage to a multimillionaire.” He smiles without an ounce of cheer and begins staring into the distance. “He hounded them both, sent threatening notes as well as other unsavory messages until eventually, he broke her. She killed herself, just after my thirteenth birthday. Hung herself from that tree over there.” He points into the distance, but I don’t follow his finger, instead, I keep my eyes firmly fixed on him.

“Oh, God, Lucius,” I whisper, holding his hand tighter and shuffling closer to his hunched-over body.

“In true thriller movie fashion, the housekeeper found her. Dad and the gardener had to cut her down so I wouldn’t see her when I returned home from school. There was a note left for me, but he was scared about what she might have written, so he read it first. He explained everything to me when I turned eighteen. The note was long gone. Apparently, it had been very graphic and incoherent, so Paul had to put the kiddy gloves on for me and tell it in his own way. It still wasn’t pretty though.”

“What happened to the man who raped her, Lucius?” I don’t want to make any reference to him being in any way related to Lucius; it must be so painful for him.

“You really don’t need to know those details, Topolina,” he says with a clenched jaw and a dark look in his eye. “Just know he won’t be hurting anyone again.”

“Oh,” I utter, sounding a little taken aback. However, I soon shake it off so I can focus on him again. “I’m honored that you would share this with me, Lucius, but what has this got to do with the other night? Surely you don’t think…?”

“I am terrified of turning into him,” he says angrily, “after all, I am the bastard son of a rapist!”

“Don’t you ever say that, Lucius!” I snap, wiping away tears that seem to have appeared from out of nowhere. “You are so much more than that and you must know it. You are Paul’s son, no one else. I’m not proud of overhearing what he said to you on the morning you left, but I’m pretty certain he sees you as nothing other than his son and that you make him proud. And as for being a rapist? God, no!”

He stares at me intensely again, all the while I look back at him with conviction. He still needs convincing; I can tell from the look in his eyes.

“The way you reacted tells me you are the last person to force a woman into anything. I’m sure other guys would have tried to pursue it, tried to talk me into it, but you didn’t, not at all.” I stroke the side of his face as I lean into him. “Please, Lucius, you scare me in some ways but never have I thought you would force yourself onto me. Not since you said so in my bedroom that night.”

“You’re scared of me?”

“A little,” I admit, “when you said I was yours and that you wanted to consume me, it made me feel things which I’m afraid of. Though, what scares me the most is the fact that I…I liked it.”

I whisper that last bit, not sure if I want him to know it. But after all the contemplating I’ve been doing recently, I decided to put on my big girl panties and admit it to him anyway.

Lucius reaches his hand up to cover mine on his cheek and gives me a real, genuine smile that has me falling into him a little more. He then pulls my hand behind his neck before placing his own on my waist. With a gentle pull, he draws me close, and my heart feels as though it is thudding at double its normal speed, but I know I want this more than anything. He presses his lips to mine and brings our chests against one another, igniting a sudden heat between our bodies. I taste his mint gum when his tongue enters my mouth, and I know it will forever remind me of this moment. Our kiss isn’t wild and primal this time, it’s soft and tender. We take the time to explore each other. When we pull away, he keeps his eyes closed and rests his forehead against mine, as though he’s relieved to have gotten everything out in the open without me running away from him.

“So, I have one week with you?” he whispers, to which I sadly nod. “Then I’m taking you out for dinner tonight, tomorrow night, and every other night until you leave. I’ll have no arguments, mia topolina.”

“I have none to give,” I admit as I pull away and offer him a stupid grin.

“But this time, there are no expectations for us to do anything. Do you understand, Helena?”

We look at each other for a few moments before I venture to give him a response.

“But if I want to?” I finally pluck up the courage to ask.

His icy blue eyes study me for a few moments before he pushes a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Then, I’ll decide if you’re ready for me.”

Chapter 12

Helena

My last night atHastings Villacomes around faster than I thought it would. I’ve spent every night being wined and dined by Lucius, who still has a wicked tongue and his trademark smirk to give him his reputable edge. But, at the same time, he is also tender and caring toward me. We make out frequently but go no further, both of us being too afraid to push the other beyond their limits.

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