Morally Blasphemous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 2)

by Veronica Lancet

  "That it's what you want." I lower my gaze, shame eating at me. "I can't do that for you... but maybe there are other ways to please you." I explain, but he stops me.

  "Lina, look at me." His voice is soft, so I do. "Whatever Cosima told you... there are always different sides to any truth. I did things I'm ashamed of, I'm not going to lie, but it's in the past. I haven't been with anyone in over ten years. Does that seem like someone who would want orgies to you?"

  "No, but... you couldn't touch anyone. What if you could? Touch others, I mean. Would you have?"

  "No." He answers before I even finish my question.

  "No?"

  "No, because they weren't the woman I loved." His words hit me directly in my chest. I lose my equilibrium and I fall on my butt.

  "Woman you loved." I repeat numbly. "Who was she?" My question is immediate. An emptiness forms in my heart when I think of him loving someone else.

  Do I even stand a chance?

  There's a sadness in his eyes, and he quickly looks away. He stands up.

  "Maybe I'll tell you. Sometime." He turns to leave.

  I'm still stunned by the turn of events. Marcello loved someone. Maybe he still does. And I'm already too deep in; my feelings for him increasing every day.

  Getting up, I'm about to say something, but then I see his retreating figure. Horrified is an understatement for what I feel. His skin is completely disfigured, his back a crisscross of scars – old, new, and everything in-between.

  I gasp, my hand going to my mouth.

  Dear Lord! What happened to him?

  It's then that I realize that for all the times we've been together in bed, I never got a look at his back. He's been intentionally hiding his scars from me.

  But why?

  Another truth materializes in my mind. I know nothing about my husband, do I?

  Chapter Twenty-two

  I'M BACK IN MY ROOM before I do irreparable damage to my relationship with Catalina.

  Damn it!

  My fingers form a fist and I punch the wall, sighing deeply at the sensation of pain. I need it.

  I deserve it.

  What was she thinking trying to please me? Sweet, innocent Catalina, on her knees before me. How many times had I imagined just that? But seeing her there, choking on my cock out of some sense of inadequacy? I couldn't let her do that.

  And then she'd had to mention the orgies. I want to laugh at that. She actually thought I want anything to do with those depravities. If she only knew...

  I shake my head, almost amused at the irony.

  Most of them are a blank in my mind. I'm not proud to admit, but at some point I resorted to a lot of substances to make myself go through it all. Whatever wasn't blacked out by overindulgence was definitely buried by my mind.

  My lips curl in disgust and a shudder goes down my spine at the thought of hands touching me.

  Not going there.

  I owe Lina an apology, though. I was maybe a little too brusque with her. Enough so that I almost blurted out my decade-long infatuation. I've been on edge all day. From Lina's nightmare to Benedicto's visit and then to finding some suspicious paperwork, this day will not be winning any awards.

  I'd managed to calm myself down a little regarding the first two, but the document I'd found had made me restless.

  Restless enough that I'd almost snapped at the only person I'd never snap.

  I close my eyes and count to ten, already feeling the tension in my body rising. I pull out one of the burner phones I have stashed in my drawer and dial Francesco.

  "Yes?"

  "Did Valentino mention anything about an asylum?"

  A pause.

  "Yes. He used to visit one a few times a year. Why?"

  "And do you know who he was visiting?"

  "No. I accompanied him a few times, but I never went inside."

  "I see." I respond grimly. "I need to go too. Meet me at the house tomorrow at ten."

  "Understood."

  I hang up, feeling even more irate than before.

  "Fuck!" I curse out loud.

  I quickly put on some clothes and go to my study. I take out the document I'd found and I peruse it again.

  Male. Fifty-seven. Born on November second.

  Just like my father.

  The father I thought I'd killed.

  The father who'd turned me into a monster; who'd taught me everything about torture and murder.

  The father who was intimately familiar with Chimera.

  "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I throw the document on the table. Why didn't I consider this before? Yes, I'd left him to die, but I never got confirmation he did. When Valentino had taken over, I'd just assumed that was the case.

  "Fucking hell!" I grit my teeth, feeling an inner rage directed mainly towards myself. Because I'd been reckless, I endangered my family. Again.

  Of course.

  Father would be the first to want my head, and his specialty is torture – psychological torture. Not only had I betrayed him, but I'd also attempted to kill him. If this is father then...

  I shake my head, already terrified at the prospect. But I need to be sure. I need to see with my own eyes if this man is father. And if he is, then I'll kill him again – this time for good.

  The following day I meet Francesco at the asylum.

  "And you never knew whom he visited?" I ask him as we make our way inside.

  "No, Valentino was very secretive about this. It's why I was the only man he'd take with him." Francesco confirms what I'd been thinking about. There's no way the famiglia would have let it slide if their favorite patriarch was still alive.

  Tino, Tino... it seems you did betray me.

  I try to contain my emotions as I fill in the paperwork and explain my relationship with the patient. I'm bluffing, since I have yet to confirm his identity. But we'll see if this turns out to be the truth or a lie.

  "He's been doing much better." A nurse tells me. "He's been eating all his meals." She continues to chatter away about things I have no interest in. I tune it all out, instead focusing on the man behind the closed doors.

  "Here we are. Let me know if he feels ill or anything."

  I nod to her and I go inside the room, leaving Francesco to wait for me outside.

  Gazing towards the window, a man in a wheelchair is with his back towards me. I enter reluctantly, and as I get closer, I notice his head is bent at a weird angle.

  Flashback of that night come back with a force, but I steel myself.

  When I'm finally in front of him, I can barely believe my eyes. My father in the flesh. His eyes widen when I stoop in front of him, his mouth moving with a tremor, but no words come out. His hands are trembling on the armrest, and he seems to will his limbs to move, but they can't obey.

  The doctor in charge had filled me in. Paralysis likely caused by brain injury. Seems I did some damage after all. He'd also told me that although father can't move or communicate, he can understand me.

  "So we meet again, father." My voice is full of the hatred I have for the man – hatred that's festered even more in the last ten years.

  His pupils move wildly from right to left, knowing this will not be a friendly visit.

  "Finally, it's not me who's afraid." I casually comment and I lean on the windowsill, blocking the light.

  I wonder what's going to take for him to break free of this ruse. I need to know he's definitely incapacitated. Regardless, his fate will be the same.

  "How would you feel..." I pause, observing the pulse at the base of his throat. "If I put to work everything you've taught me." The only reaction I'm getting is the quick fluttering of his eyelids and his sudden intake of breath. Nevertheless, it's telling me all I need to know.

  "Remember when you suggested I use teeth for the mark of the Chimera? I wonder, will you even feel if I pull your teeth one at a time?" I remove a pair of pliers from my coat. I'd come prepared.

  Drops of liquid hit the floor. I turn my gaze downwards.
>
  "So this is how you react when you're on the receiving end. You piss yourself." I make a tsk sound, opening the pliers and moving them closer to his face.

  "Let's see, if this makes you piss yourself, what will it take to cause a heart attack?" He pales even more at my words, and I don't know whether to cry or to laugh at this. I'm finally confronting the man who's made my entire life hell, and I can't even do it properly. What satisfaction will I get from killing a man in a wheelchair? None.

  But kill him I must.

  Disgusted with the situation, I go outside and signal Francesco.

  "It's done." He says. I give him a tight nod, and then I grab onto the wheelchair's handles, leading father out of the room.

  While I'd been getting reacquainted with him, Francesco had been settling the paperwork to release father into our care.

  We leave as the picture of family happiness, and I instruct Francesco to make a few turns until we are close to a secluded forest.

  As we get father out of the car, I'm struck again by a pang of regret at this pity kill. How many times had I imagined paying him back for everything he'd done to me? How many times had I prayed for a chance to put him in his place?

  And now, as I look upon his pathetic self, I can't even muster the hate anymore.

  One bullet and he's dead. His head shoots back with the velocity of the bullet, and his body spasms once more before his eyes turn blank. This time forever.

  With a sigh, I nod to Francesco to get rid of the body and the wheelchair. I return to the car and putting my head in my palms; I cry.

  I let it all go— three decades of torture at the hands of this man. And the sad truth is that I don't think I'll ever get rid of the mark he's left on me.

  Pulling myself together before Francesco returns, I direct him to take me home. There's only one thing I need right now – her.

  When I open her door, I find her on the bed, focused on a piece she's sewing. She jumps up a little, startled to see me.

  "Is there something wrong?" Lina turns to me, a little frown forming between her brows. She holds herself still, her entire body stiff.

  We'd slept in separate beds the night before. Mostly because I'd been so ashamed of myself, I couldn't bring myself to face her.

  But now it's over. It's finally over.

  And my past will remain just that – the past.

  "Can I come in?" She gives a brisk nod, her eyes still regarding me suspiciously.

  As she sees me walking towards her, she puts away her work on a nearby chair. I take this as an invitation to sit down.

  Her hands are tightly folded in her lap, her chin slightly lowered.

  "I'm sorry." I say, my palm covering her hands. "I should have said this sooner."

  "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have just assumed..."

  "Hey, no more of that. I realize you don't know a lot about me, and of course you'd be curious."

  Lina shakes her head, her eyes on our linked hands.

  "I shouldn't have let Cosima's words get to me. I should have thought before I acted. I know that we were both thrown together into this marriage by circumstances. I think..." She pauses, giving me a quick side glance. "Never mind."

  "Lina, you don't have to hide from me." I try to get her to open up, but it's in vain. A strained smile stretches on her face, and she turns toward me.

  "It's fine, really. We just had our first disagreement." She says lightly.

  "Am I forgiven?"

  She tilts her head as she regards me for a second. Then, out of nowhere, she drops a kiss on my cheek.

  "I quite liked that. Do you think I can get a repeat?" She rolls her eyes at me, her cheeks already flushed. But she complies, leaning towards me for another quick kiss. This time, though, I'm prepared for her. My arms envelop her slight form, bringing her closer to my chest.

  My hand moves up, cupping her neck before settling on her cheek. Her eyes flutter open, the green of her irises so intense it's almost blinding. How many times had I dreamed of this? Of her lovely eyes staring into mine? Of holding her in my arms, our skin touching, our breaths mingling?

  My thumb moves slightly over her lips, separating them. Her tongue peeks out, tentatively wetting her lips and touching my finger. Before I know it, she's sucking on my thumb, her eyes wide open and looking at me with such innocence that I groan out loud.

  "The things you do to me, Lina." I rasp out.

  "Good, I hope." She replies saucily.

  "The best." My head goes down for a kiss. Just as our lips are about to touch, someone knocks at the door.

  Damn!

  "Enter." Lina draws back, composing herself.

  Claudia peeks her head through the door.

  "Why aren't you with Sisi?" Lina frowns when she sees her step inside the room.

  Claudia rocks on her heels, a sheepish expression on her face.

  "Aunt Sisi has a visitor."

  "A visitor?" I repeat, a little taken aback.

  "Yes. Her friend Rafaelo. She told me to go to my room, but I'm bored." Claudia shrugs, looking like a replica of Catalina.

  "Did you know about the visit?" I ask Lina, but she shakes her head.

  I get up, intent on seeing what this is all about, but Lina stops me.

  "Let's give them some time. I'm sure nothing untoward will happen. Besides, the staff is downstairs."

  "But..." I trail off as she bats her eyelashes at me, making me lose myself in her gorgeous eyes.

  She's not playing fair.

  "I'll just inform Amelia to monitor them." I relent a little.

  "Will you play with us, Marcello?" Claudia comes by her mother's side, picking up the piece Lina had been working on. I sneak a glance to Lina, and she gives me a small nod.

  "I guess I am."

  "Cool." Claudia's beaming smile swallows me whole, and I return the gesture.

  I find that I've smiled these past few months more than I've ever done in my entire life.

  And there's only one reason for it. Well, now two.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  WATCHING MARCELLO'S INTERACTIONS WITH Claudia warms my heart. He's so kind to her, listening to her chattering away and helping her with whatever she's working on. If before I'd been unsure of my feelings, now I'm completely certain. I'm in love with Marcello Lastra. A feeling so unfamiliar, yet one that wormed its way so easily inside my heart.

  I think I always knew it was going to come down to this. From the moment I first saw him, I'd gotten this feeling... this tingling in my chest. At the time I'd put it down to his breathtaking looks and my poor starved eyes—he is eye candy, after all.

  But it had been more than that. From the very beginning I'd been willing to trust him, something that I'd found extremely difficult to do after the incident. There was something about him. Maybe it was his slightly sad eyes, or the way he looked at me as if he couldn't quite believe I was real. Or maybe it was the fact that he'd been kind to me when no one else had.

  He made me feel cherished—probably for the first time.

  I watch as his eyes crinkle around the corners, amusement and affection reflected in his gaze as Claudia painstakingly explains her ideal princess dress.

  Maybe this is what I needed to accept him wholly inside my heart. To know that he would be just as kind to my daughter as he is to me.

  A smile plays at my lips as I continue to watch the two of them.

  And that's when I decide to tell him how I feel. I'm aware he might not feel the same, but maybe in time... Yes, I will not give up. Whoever he loved before has no claim on him now. He's married to me, and so he's mine. I blush at the direction of my thoughts, but I know that I'd never let another woman take him from me.

  A while later, Claudia leaves to complete her homework, and Marcello pulls Amelia aside to ask about Sisi.

  "They were just talking, sir. I made sure there was nothing improper going on." He nods thoughtfully and thanks Amelia for her time.

  "You think they like each other?" He
takes my hand and brings it to his lips for a soft kiss.

  "Maybe. That would be nice, wouldn't it?"

  "I don't know. I don't trust Guerra, and Sisi's barely had time to get used to life outside Sacre Coeur. It might be too fast." Marcello frowns, and I get the urge to kiss his worries away.

  "She's old enough to decide for herself. Besides, she's extremely strong willed. No one could pressure her into doing anything she didn't want. That's why I think there might be something between them."

  "We'll see." It's all he says.

  "You called her Sisi." I stifle a smile. "That's a first."

  "That I did. I must be getting more familiar with her." A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

  I finally give in. Raising myself on my tiptoes, I place a kiss on his lips. Given our height differences, I have to almost jump.

  "You shouldn't start what you can't finish, Lina." There's a seductive quality to his voice as he wounds his arm around my waist and pulls me into him.

  "Who says I can't?" I raise an eyebrow at him. I can't very well scream RAVISH ME; it wouldn't be quite proper.

  "You have one second to change your mind before I throw you over my shoulder and take you to my lair to have my way with you." His words always have the ability to make me blush to my roots.

  "Hmm, that doesn't sound bad at all." I flutter my eyelashes at him suggestively.

  "That's it!" He says a second before he scoops me up and actually throws me over his shoulder.

  "Marcello!" I gasp, shocked he'd do that in the open. His hand comes down on my butt and he pats my dress so it stays in place. He doesn't waste any time as he takes a few steps at a time, quickly reaching my room and depositing me in the middle of the bed.

  There's something different about this Marcello. He's more carefree, more playful. It's like an entire weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

  I'm leaning back on my elbows, and I peer at him from beneath my lashes, waiting to see what's next.

  His hands go to his shirt, and he unbuttons it slowly, all the while focusing on me. Eyes glazed with desire, he throws his shirt on the floor and stalks towards me. My heart lurches in my chest, the anticipation building and making me shiver slightly.