by Brook Wilder
“Come on,” Vittorio tried to reason with her as she ran up the stairs. “You’re being ridiculous.”
Sharon whipped around to face him, flushed and crying. “Ridiculous? I’m being ridiculous? Am I the one who beat a man’s face in, then shot his barely conscious body? You’re a fucking animal.”
“He was going to kill you!” Vittorio replied, incredulous. “Would you rather I let him do that? Are you out of your mind?”
“You still didn’t have to kill him!” Sharon huffed. She turned and continued running.
Vittorio stayed close on her heels, still desperate for her forgiveness but losing his patience with her dramatics. He snatched her by her elbow and brought her down a step, so they were face to face.
“Look,” he explained. “I know you don’t understand exactly what it is that I do and, frankly, I don’t want you to. I live an ugly life Sharon. I see a lot of bad things, I do a lot of bad things, all on a pretty much daily basis.”
Sharon sniffled but otherwise listened quietly as he spoke.
Vittorio heaved a deep breath. “I know it’s a dark life I lead, but the truth is I don’t have a choice. I carry the name, I carry the blood, this is me. I wanted to keep you out of it but now… here it is.”
Sharon chewed her lip, still watching him with trepidation. Two weeks ago, Vittorio would’ve relished her fear, but now it just broke his heart.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” Sharon said finally. “That was… horrific. I thought I loved you, but I don’t know if I can love someone that’s capable of… that.” She shook her head, as if trying to shake away images of blood and broken teeth flying across the room.
Her words stung. “I promise,” Vittorio told her earnestly. “I’m the same man you thought you loved. I’m still me. I still love you, too. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you never have to see anything like that again.”
“How can you make that promise?” Sharon asked. “If this is what you’re doing in your day-to-day life, how can I ever avoid this if I’m a part of your life? Am I just supposed to sit in your penthouse all day, bored and wondering how many people you’ve slaughtered?”
“I didn’t slaughter anyone.” Vittorio rolled his eyes. “You really need to calm down with the drama. I killed a guy who was going to kill you. I defended you.”
Sharon gasped, her face twisting into a sneer.
“You wanna know what?” Vittorio continued. “I don’t even feel bad either. I’d go to the ends of the earth. I’d kill a thousand men if it meant protecting you.”
“Sorry, I’m not interested in being wooed with bloodshed,” Sharon sneered, turning to leave.
Vittorio reached out to stop her, but she jerked her hand away. Irritation bubbled within him and before he could stop himself, he blurted, “I fucking own you! You know you’re not going anywhere, right? This is your life now, sweetie.”
Sharon stormed down the hallway, her hands balled into little fists at her sides.
“Stomp around all you want!” Vittorio hollered, officially out of patience. “Not going to change anything!”
Sharon flipped him a middle finger over her shoulder and Vittorio felt a fresh rush of anger. He started running and chased her down the hallway. Sharon heard him coming and ducked into the nearest bedroom.
Vittorio heard the lock click on the door just as he skidded to a stop in front of it. He pounded his hand on the door. “Fucking let me in!”
“No!” Sharon rebutted from behind the door. “I need to be away from you right now.”
“Well, while you sit in there and pout like a child, please feel free to reflect on the fact that that piece of shit was here to kill you. You’re in danger and I’m the only one you can depend on. Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t,” Sharon said meekly. “I just need some… time.”
Vittorio felt his anger dissipate. He really did love this girl and he really had subjected her to something awful. The least he could do was respect her space, at least for a little bit. “Fine,” he told her. “Come find me when you’re ready.”
“Okay.” she replied, still sounding weakened and sad.
“And Sharon?” Vittorio ventured.
“Yeah?”
“I love you. I mean that. You’re the only good thing in my life. Please don’t take that away from me.”
Vittorio waited a long tense moment before she finally said, “I love you too.”
He walked away, exhausted. He’d have to go deal with the mess in the dining room before he permanently scarred the staff. He hoped Sharon would at least join him in bed later.
She never did.
Chapter 19
Sharon
The next morning, Sharon woke up alone in a strange bed. She had spent the night tossing and turning, desperately trying to shut out visions of gore and death. Her heart ached as she tried to wrap her mind around the idea that the man she had come to love was capable of such a horrific act. She couldn’t help but think about what he’d said afterwards too.
You know I own you right? This is your life now, sweetie.
Sharon had wanted to slap him when he said that. Did Vittorio actually love her the way he claimed, or did he just love the power he held over her? Doubt overwhelmed her. They’d had such a lovely day yesterday, yet the night couldn’t have turned out any worse. She was scared to see Vittorio again. She wondered if she’d end up seeing the man she loved in those captivating dark eyes of his, or if she would only ever see a ruthless killer.
She didn’t want to admit it to herself, but she was worried that she may have projected her own desires onto Vittorio. Maybe he wasn’t the sweet-souled man her heart yearned for. Maybe she just needed to believe that he was. She’d been under the influence of so much oxytocin over the last two weeks, more than ever in her life before. Were hormones addling her judgement?
She sighed. These were questions she was never going to be able to answer on her own. Sharon needed to go find Vittorio and talk these things out. He was right, it wasn’t like she had anywhere to go. The thought that he considered her his property was no longer as appealing as it had been.
She got out of the bed, tossing aside the crisp yellow sheets. She hadn’t even really had a chance to check out the decor, she’d been too distracted the night before; but in the sunlight she could see it was a very chic room. All yellows and pale blues, with a very Parisian feel.
Sharon dressed in the only outfit she had. Her navy pants were starting to feel dirty and she winced as she pulled Vittorio’s sweatshirt over her head. His scent enveloped her like a warm hug and Sharon tried to push out her more intimate thoughts about Vittorio. It was hard, though; his masculine scent made her nipples peak beneath the cups of her bra.
It’s only natural to be attracted to him, Sharon reasoned with herself. He makes up your entire sexual experience. It makes sense.
Once she’d pushed open her door, Sharon peeked a tentative head out into the ornate hallway. She saw no sign of Vittorio, so he crossed the hall to the bedroom they’d made love in. The bed was neatly made, with no trace of Vittorio.
Hmm, Sharon wondered. Did he sleep here last night?
She gasped. Did he leave me here alone?
Sharon was more desperate than ever to find Vittorio. She hoped, prayed even, that he hadn’t left her all alone in a mansion in the middle of nowhere. Especially since people who wanted to kill her knew exactly where she was. Sharon began to panic. She realized Vittorio had been right last night; he really was her only asset against the man who wanted her dead. She’d been so stupid to shun him the way she had. She’d just needed some space, but she’d taken it too far.
Maybe he’s in the kitchen or something, Sharon thought and turned on her heel. She started jogging down the stairs when she heard a voice she didn’t recognize.
“The Anafestos… hitting your properties… discuss a plan of action…”
Sharon couldn’t quite make out everything the man said, bu
t she assumed she wasn’t supposed to be hearing any of it. She dropped into a low crouch and began slowly inching down the stairs. She peered around the landing and saw a group of men, about a dozen or so, standing in a circle at the bottom of the stairs. Most of them had their arms across their chest and they wore somber expressions.
She immediately ducked back behind the wall, hoping to avoid being seen. She cupped a hand around her ear and leaned against the wall, so she could hear them as best she could.
“Sir,” another unfamiliar voice piped up. “We believe the Anafestos are trying to send a message. We’ve had to scrub graffiti off the walls of almost every property you own.”
“What did it say?” Vittorio asked, his tone all business.
His familiar voice tickled Sharon’s heart like a feather. He’s still here, Sharon thought, relieved that he hadn’t left her after all.
“I took some photos,” she heard. There was silence for a moment. Presumably one of the men was showing Vittorio pictures he’d taken of the vandalization. “They’re all different,” the man explained. “Some random words and letters. It looks almost like a code. The number ‘130’ pops up a lot.”
“That how much I paid for…” Sharon heard Vittorio break off into a frustrated sigh.
That’s how much he paid for me, Sharon realized. The Anafestos really were trying to send Vittorio a very personal and specific message. She felt fear starting to brew in her gut. These dangerous people really wanted her dead. This was a situation Sharon had never even dreamed she would be in. It felt incredibly surreal.
“Never mind,” Vittorio said authoritatively. “What’s important now is damage control moving forward. Is there anything besides the spray paint?”
“Few broken windows, couple storehouses got hit too. We’re still running up the damage. We just wanted to come let you know in person.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Vittorio grumbled. “No, not you. This is all just insanity. That old mother fucker is clearly losing his mind.”
“Oh, there is one other thing,” another unfamiliar voice said, a tentative softness in his tone. “You remember Johnny Lombardi? Joey and Leanne’s boy?”
“Vaguely,” Vittorio confirmed.
“He, um, never came home last night. Leanna called the cops who found him in an alley a few blocks down, gut-shot and left to die.”
“What?” Vittorio asked, sounding outraged. “Anafesto put a hit out on a sixteen-year-old boy and you stupid fucks opened this meeting with graffiti? You didn’t think a dead kid was more important.”
“Well, I just thought of it,” the man stammered, clearly afraid, “‘Cause, ya know, they thought it must just be a drive-by, I guess. But, like, it makes way more sense that it’d be Anafesto. Didn’t put it together right away. S-Sorry, Boss.”
“You are fucking sorry, Lee,” Vittorio snapped. “Any of you other stupid fucks have anything to add? Somebody’s wife get raped or kid get snatched that you’re forgetting to tell me about?”
There was silence.
“No? We’re all caught up? Good, I guess we can move on.”
Sharon did not like the flippant, borderline cruel way Vittorio talked to his men. More and more he seemed to really be the monster she feared rather than the beautiful man that she loved.
“First of all, someone send the Lombardi’s my sympathies. I’ll want to arrange a meeting to speak with them personally. So, whoever is handling that should try to find a good time. Once we get everything cleaned up and estimated out, I wanna hit Anafesto twice as hard as he hit us. He wants to send a message? We need to send one right back.”
Sharon could hear a pencil scratching paper, as if someone was taking notes.
“Anafesto has a grandkid, doesn’t he?” Vittorio asked. “Put out a hit on him. Aim to wound, not to kill. But whatever happens, happens.”
“Sir?” another voice chimed in. “Anafesto’s grandkid is like thirteen…”
“Like I said,” Vittorio cut him off, “Whatever happens, happens.”
Sharon had to fight a sudden wave of nausea that crept up her throat. Did Vittorio seriously just put a hit out on a child? she wondered, horrified. Violence was one thing, but the death of a child, robbing a man of the chance to watch his grandson blossom into a man, was entirely another matter.
Chapter 20
Sharon
She sank to the floor, officially defeated. The men continued to argue and converse with Vittorio. The conversation fluctuated in volume, but Sharon couldn’t even hear it over the sound of her heart breaking. She felt profoundly foolish to have fallen for Vittorio’s nice-guy act. He bought me at a sex slave auction, for God’s sake, Sharon realized. He’d told her he was there to watch out for girls he knew that were missing, but she was starting to think he could have lied about that too. He was probably in the market for a slave and sniffed her innocence out, figured she’d make a good submissive.
I’m so stupid, Sharon thought, shaking her head and pushing the base of her palms against her eyes. I really believed he loved me, too.
Sharon got to her feet and walked on wobbly legs back to the room she’d slept in. She crashed face first into the unmade bed, pressing her head into the pillows to relieve the migraine-like pressure in her head. Her mind whirled.
How am I going to get out of here? she wondered.
The only shoes she had were her boating shoes and she doubted they were comfortable or sturdy enough to get her far if she tried to run on foot. Not like it mattered. She had no idea where she was, and Vittorio had cars and who knew what else. He’d have her back in his captivity in no time, probably ready to inflict plenty of punishment on her for trying.
What Sharon needed was access to one of Vittorio’s cars, but she had no idea how she would pull that off. She was positive he had to be keeping his keys somewhere private. It wasn’t like he was going to leave her ample opportunity to leave. Especially not after her outburst the night before.
Hmm, Sharon thought, stroking her chin like a movie villain while she considered. She tried hard to remember what Vittorio had done with his car keys when they had come in. Had he put them in one of his pockets? No…
The nightstand! Sharon could picture his keys perfectly, in a little heap on the bedside table in that first bedroom. As far as Sharon knew, Vittorio hadn’t left since they’d gotten to the mansion. Reasonably, she could bet that the keys were still there. Could she sneak across the hall and grab them while Vittorio had his meeting downstairs?
After little consideration, she decided that probably wasn’t a great idea. She had no idea when Vittorio would be coming back upstairs. Even if she got the keys, what would she do with them if he wanted to talk to her or came looking for them? She winced, she could practically feel the violent slashes of his belt against her supple flesh already. She’d definitely be in for some punishment if he caught her with his keys. She was going to have to sneak them out when she knew he wouldn’t be looking for them or using them anytime soon.
Aha! Sharon thought. She finally got it. She could seduce him, take his keys after he fell asleep and then drive like hell. Even then, she was running the risk of him waking up and chasing her in any of his other cars or thwarting her attempt before she even made it out of the garage. It wasn’t a foolproof plan, but it was all she had.
The day dragged on as Sharon hid in her yellow room, waiting for Vittorio to come find her. Her mind raced in a thousand different directions. She tried to think through every aspect of her plan from start to finish. What she would do if Vittorio didn’t want to have sex, if he didn’t sleep next to her, if the keys were gone, if he followed her? Before she knew it, the sun had set and left the sky in a dark, dusky haze.
It didn’t seem like Vittorio was coming to get her, but Sharon was getting restless. She ventured out of the room again, into the dark hallway.
“Hello?” she called out. “Vittorio?”
To her surprise, Vittorio came out of his room across the hall. H
ow long had he been in there, so close to me? Sharon wondered.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Just wanted to… say hi.” Sharon said, awkwardly fiddling with the long sleeves of his sweatshirt. “We haven’t talked since last night, so…”
“Yeah, just trying to respect your space.” Vittorio quipped. “Been kind of a busy day.”
“Have time for… a little break?” Sharon asked him in her best husky, lustful voice.
Vittorio’s eyebrows raised a bit. Clearly he hadn’t expected her to want to fuck him. Sharon wasn’t even sure she did really want to. But, if it got her in the room, closer to the keys, and tired Vittorio out, she was willing to do anything.
“I could probably work that in,” Vittorio said tentatively, still watching Sharon with suspicious eyes.
