Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4)

by Veronica Lancet

  "Speak," I prompt him, suddenly anxious to hear what he has to say.

  "Project H-Humanitas..." he trails off, taking a deep breath, "I don't know too much, just that your sister was given to Miles, the head of Project Humanitas." He looks between Sisi and I before pleading once more with her, "please don't harm my family."

  Project Humanitas...

  "Vlad?" Sisi asks when she sees I'm not responding.

  I blink twice, some type of memory resurfacing before it's gone again.

  "Vlad!" I feel her hand on my arm as she pinches me, and I finally react.

  "I need to go," I mumble, disentangling her fingers from the material of my shirt.

  I'm almost in a trance as I leave the garden, heading straight for my room. Vaguely, I realize Sisi is hot on my trail, but I can't seem to care right now.

  I'm quick to rip the shirt off my back, discarding my pants and underwear before climbing into the shower. The water is scalding hot on my skin, red in its trail as it cascades down my body.

  "Project Humanitas," I whisper to myself, pain assaulting me when I utter the words.

  Dazed, I collapse to my knees, holding on to the bathroom stall for support.

  "Vanya," I call out, my voice barely above a whisper. "Where are you, Vanya?" I ask, desperate to hear her voice. Why is she not here when I need her the most.

  My breath hitches as my body starts trembling uncontrollably, visions of blood and organs, all lying at my feet as I kill and maim.

  "Vanya, please," I say on a sob, bringing my head hard against the wall. "Where are you?" I ask again, hitting my head even harder. "Please," my voice is broken as I beseech her to answer me.

  I keep banging my head against the wall until bright red mixes with the clear water.

  "Vlad?" I think I hear a voice calling my name. I'm barely conscious as Sisi climbs into the shower with me, her arms wide open as she takes me in her embrace.

  "You're safe," she whispers in my hair. "You're safe now," her soft hand caresses my body and my body slowly regains its function.

  "I..." I start when I regain lucidity, "I'm sorry," I say on a small voice, seeing the situation I find myself in.

  "What happened?" her gaze is gentle as she looks at me, her touch so comforting.

  "Project Humanitas..." I barely manage to say the name out loud. "They killed my sister."

  "What?" She frowns, "how do you know?"

  "Not Katya..." I whisper, "my twin sister, Vanya."

  And they made me what I am today.

  Chapter Thirteen

  "Sisi, you don't look too well," Lina mentions when she sees me at breakfast. I give her a tight smile, even though I know I must have pretty bad dark circles since for the last week I've been sneaking almost daily to see Vlad. I don't even remember when I've last had a full night of sleep.

  Still, I wouldn't trade the time spent with Vlad for sleep, not when everything about him is so... fascinating.

  True to his word, he's shown me around the city and taken me wherever I wanted. But we spend most of our time at his house, where we talk about everything and nothing.

  What I've found about him has just confirmed my first impression. Loneliness clings to him like a second skin, and I can tell that even the small things I do surprise him. It's like he expects me to bolt at any point.

  "Are you afraid yet?" He'd ask, almost jokingly, but I can see the truth in his eyes. He's afraid that he's going to do something and scare me.

  He's afraid I'm going to leave him.

  Frankly, the more I see how his life looks, the more I feel sorry for him. He barely talks to people outside of his right hand, Maxim. Even with him, he exchanges a few sentences here and there, mostly via text. The rest of the time? He might be planning his revenge or world domination, but he's doing it all by himself.

  With his bare room, or the fact that his entire home is underground, it's hard not to feel sad for his bleak existence.

  But I can see why. He's not... normal. Hell, he's probably the definition of mental. Even knowing that I can't stay away. He's just... him.

  And in a wicked way, we complement each other. He feeds my need for destruction and I feed his need for sanity.

  God!

  I fan myself as I find my thoughts heading into R rated territory. He hasn't kissed me again or asked for me to kiss him, even though it's all I can think sometimes when I'm near him.

  The sensations he'd wrecked from my body had been simply otherworldly. There's no other way to describe the way my body had opened up for him, showing me it was capable of great pleasure instead of pain.

  Ah, and his kiss... The fact that he's never kissed another woman before had delighted me beyond measure. For the first time, I felt that something was truly mine. No one had been that close to him, and no one will if I have anything to say about it.

  Because one week's been enough for me to decide something.

  I'm going to keep him—dysfunctional personality included.

  He hadn't mentioned the bathroom incident and I hadn't probed. Seeing him so lost, so full of suffering, had done something to my heart. I'd wanted nothing more than hug him and take away all his hurt.

  "You aren't hungry?" I'm brought down to earth by Lina's voice—again. I've been so absent minded lately, mostly because all my thoughts revolve one man—and his wicked lips.

  "Oh, sorry, just woolgathering." I smile, helping myself to the food on the table.

  My brother and Lina had decided to hire a governess for Claudia, Venezia and I, saying that we would all benefit from having a more formal education. We've already started lessons, but I don't think I need it that much. After all, I have all the information I need at the tips of my fingers.

  Vlad had been extremely helpful in showing me how to operate a computer and navigate the internet. Since then, my time is mostly split between him and my laptop. There's just so much to read on, so many things that are part of normal life but had not been accessible during my time at Sacre Coeur.

  And he's been more than willing to slowly walk me through everything.

  "I know it's hard to get used to life outside Sacre Coeur..." Lina starts, her hand reaching for mine. "I'm having a hard time too, but I wasn't there since birth. For you it's all you've ever known," she takes a deep breath, "please let me know if there's anything I can do to help. I don't like seeing you so closed off."

  "I'm fine, Lina. Seriously. It's just a lot to take in, but I'm getting there," I give her a reassuring smile.

  Marcello is watching the interaction between the two of us, his eyes fixed on me.

  "Assisi, please see me in my office after breakfast," he says, pinning me with his gaze for a moment before turning back to his food.

  I frown, since Marcello hadn't tried to talk to me until now. Even Lina seems a bit worried, but she squeezes my hand in comfort.

  Claudia and Venezia are engaged in a playful banter, and suddenly the house seems a bit more like... home.

  But for as much as I'd like to believe that, I can't. The more I look around, the more I feel like an outsider.

  My place hadn't been at Sacre Coeur, and it clearly isn't here either. Not when I see everyone around me talk with such ease, such familiarity. They make the perfect picture, with me on the sidelines taking it.

  When breakfast is finished, Marcello gives me a nod and I follow behind him as he heads to his office.

  My palms itch, the anxiety killing me. Until now I haven't really had the time to have an in depth conversation with Marcello, and I still have the feeling that I'm an extra in this house.

  Closing the door behind me, I see him go around his desk to take a seat, motioning me to do the same.

  I sit down, back straight as I'd been conditioned, the scars too painful to make me bend even a little. My hands in my lap, I'm the model of decorum.

  Don't send me back!

  The only thing I can think of is that I never want to set foot in Sacre Coeur again. And while inside I'm boiling w
ith curiosity as to what Marcello will say to me, on the outside I look as serene as ever. It sure comes in handy to have perfected a poker face over the years.

  "Assisi," Marcello starts, looking intently at me, "how are you getting used to the house? I trust everything is to your liking?"

  "Of course," I readily agree, "it's more than I could have asked for. Thank you for this," I add.

  He nods almost absentmindedly, and I get the vaguest impression that he wants this meeting to be over as soon as possible. My palms sweating, I keep my smile in place.

  He seems to be hesitating as he asks. "Was Sacre Coeur ok? Did you have any problems?"

  For a second—just a brief second—I consider telling him everything I endured. How my body is riddled with scars from those righteous nuns. For that tiny moment, I want to lay everything on the table and ask him why. Why did they have to abandon me there? What did I ever do besides being born?

  Over the years, the nuns had enjoyed telling me how I'd been abandoned because of my birth mark and that my family did not want to be saddled with a cursed child. They'd been so delighted in always pointing out how no one wanted me.

  But as soon as those thoughts resurface, I push them down. Why bring back the past? And most importantly, why ask something I might not like the answer to? What if he tells me exactly what I don't want to hear?

  "It was fine," I start, stretching my lips even more, "the nuns were so good to me." I lie, that one untruth burning through me as it leaves my lips. "But they've also helped me understand I'm not suited for the monastic life." I add just to be sure. If he thinks the nuns don't want me, then he can't ship me back there.

  "Why?" He raises an eyebrow, and I'm put on the spot. "Why were you not suited for monastic life?"

  "I..."

  "I'm just trying to understand you better, Assisi," Marcello interjects, his eyes boring into me.

  Why do I suddenly feel like I'm being interrogated?

  "I was too curious," I admit truthfully, "and I was not predisposed to following the dogma. You could say my teachers and I butted heads often over disparate opinions." I choose my words carefully. If only he knew the stunts I pulled at Sacre Coeur...

  After years of abuse, I'd just snapped. I didn't care about what happened to me anymore, so I just acted out. Certainly, after Cressida's death, only worse things awaited me. So I just gave in, and for the first time I stayed true to myself instead of forcing myself to be someone they wanted me to be.

  And hell if it hasn't been relieving. Like a weight being lifted off my chest, I've finally found a modicum of happiness. Maybe that's also why I'm so drawn to Vlad. He doesn't judge me for who I am. Instead, he cheers me on, both our crazies mixing together.

  "I see," Marcello replies.

  What do you see?

  Why is he so closed off? I can't get a reading on him to know if my answers are satisfactory or not.

  "It is good to be curious," he continues, "you should never stop asking questions."

  Silence envelops us, and we're just looking at each other, the awkwardness only increasing.

  "Right," I say eventually, "if that's all?"

  He nods at me, picking up his glasses and putting them on. Shuffling some files around his desk, I can tell I've been dismissed.

  And as I leave his office, I can't help but ask myself.

  Does he even want me here?

  "Why do people need so many profiles?" I ask, watching Vlad help me set up my social media profiles.

  He looks up, shrugging.

  "I don't use any." He replies, clicking some things on the computer until the profile is done.

  "Why?" I tilt my head to study him. I'd read up on social media profiles, and I'd made a list of the ones I wanted him to help me set up. I'd looked into the matter extensively, because according to some people, if you don't have a social media presence then you don't exist.

  "I'm not exactly an exemplary citizen," he smirks, "I don't need that type of exposure. Especially since nowadays you can track everything."

  "What do you mean?"

  "See this?" He shows me a picture I'd awkwardly taken to add to my profile. I nod. "Every picture has metadata that show when and where it was taken." A few more clicks and he pulls up a new window.

  "That's Marcello's address." I say, my mouth hanging open in shock.

  "Yes it is. It only takes someone who is a little skilled with computers to get this. Every picture you post has the potential to give vital information to enemies. There's other tricks too, since everything you do online leaves a signature," he continues to explain, and I'm listening attentively. He seems to know a lot about it and as he's talking, his features show the barest hint of excitement.

  "But I don't have enemies."

  "You don't. But your brother does. And I do," he looks at me intently for a second before turning his gaze back at the computer. "Luckily for you, I'm going to set up everything neatly and install some safety mechanisms as well," he says, already getting to it.

  I watch him work his magic, and I mentally go over my rehearsed lines. Since he hasn't tried to kiss me in a while, I feel I may need to push him into it. After all, the articles online had mentioned that men enjoy being the aggressors.

  "Done!" He says, handing me back the computer as he scrolls through the different profiles.

  "There's one more platform," I add, and he raises an eyebrow, looking at me expectantly. "This," I open the tab for him, all the while surreptitiously watching for his reaction.

  "A dating site?" He asks in disbelief, looking back and forth between me and the screen. "Why do you need a dating profile?" He repeats, narrowing his eyes at me.

  "Doesn't everyone?"

  "No. I don't." He glowers at me.

  "But you don't date." I reply with a feigned huff.

  "And you won't either!" He quickly exclaims, his eyes widening at his own outburst.

  "What? Of course I will. I'm young, I've finally started living, and I need to think about dating at some point," I lie, closely studying his expression.

  "No," he decrees, folding his arms over his chest and looking at me defiantly.

  "Excuse me?" I ask in faked outrage.

  "You can't!" He takes my laptop from me, quickly punching some keys.

  "What are you doing?" I frown at his unusual reaction. I'd only wanted to give him a little push to kiss me again.

  "There," he hands it back to me, "I blocked all dating sites from your computer," he says smugly.

  "Why would you do that?" I push, needing at least an explanation. If he's not going to kiss me just yet, I'll settle for a small admission that he doesn't want me to date.

  "It's not safe." He quickly answers, a small scowl appearing on his face. "Besides, when would you have time to date? I occupy most of your time," he reasons, looking mightily pleased with himself.

  "You do, don't you?" I probe, a smile playing at my lips.

  "Exactly," he replies, "why would you need a boyfriend when you have me?"

  The reaction is delayed as he realizes what he just said. He blinks twice, his mouth half-open as he undoubtedly must be thinking of ways to correct his mistake.

  Instead, he amazes me when he continues. "That's right, I found you first. Finders are keepers," he declares proudly, placing the laptop on the table in front of him. Out of nowhere, his arm darts out, his fingers grabbing on to my chin as he tugs me into a bruising kiss.

  "There you have it," he speaks against my mouth, "sealed with a kiss."

  I can only stare into his eyes, the pupils so big they almost overshadow his irises. He doesn't seem to wait for my approval as he looks at me like a feral animal ready to devour its prey. Out of nowhere, his tongue sneaks out and he licks my lips with a long swipe.

  I'm frozen in shock at his actions, because even in my sheltered mind this isn't normal. But the more I look at him, the more I realize that he isn't normal. He probably has no idea how to behave with a woman. Lord, I'm surprised he even know
s how to behave with other people.

  There's a savagery in him that can't be tamed by superficial manners. And no matter how expensive his suits, or how practiced his expressions are, he can't hide what he really is.

  A beast.

  A smile pulls at my lips, and I return his lick with one of my own.

  He might be a beast, but I wouldn't be this drawn to him if he weren't.

  His teeth catch my tongue, and he sucks it into his mouth, his palm fitted around my throat as he brings me into him.

  "I prepared something for you," he whispers, his teeth nibbling at my lips.

  "What?" I ask on a breathless tone. Already visions assault me, of us naked together, limbs tangled, mouths fused... Ah, my thighs clench together just thinking about that.

  "The ocean. I'm taking you to the ocean," he says, and he's suddenly off me and righting his clothes.

  "That sounds amazing." I answer, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. I barely got him to kiss me again, and he didn't waste any time in finding a reason to stop.

  For a brief moment I have to wonder if maybe he's not attracted to me. At his age, it's almost unheard that he'd never kissed anyone before. I should know since I've spent exorbitant amounts of time researching men and relationships. So what if... he's not into women at all?

  The thought makes me still, and when he takes my hand and leads me to the car, I have to force myself to smile.

  The drive is quick as we get to Vlad's childhood home, which is only a few steps away from the beach. He's tight lipped when I ask him more about his family, mainly commenting that they are all dead.

  "So there's only Katya left," I remark as we climb out of the car. Vlad is carrying a couple of blankets so we can sit on the sand, and a basket with a few snacks and drinks. I'm actually surprised by the effort he's put in this.

  "Yes... if she still lives that is," he replies, giving me a half-smile.

  Not wanting to ruin the moment, I quickly change the topic.

  "You do realize this looks an awful lot like a date," I add cheekily as we take our shoes off, walking barefoot in the sand.