Alessandra
As I started to get dressed, it dawned on me that he’d seen every part of my body. Savio Cavetti had touched every part of me, kissed almost every part of me. I felt sick. What had I done? My parents would hate me. Chiara would hate me. Everyone in my family would hate me if they found out.
I bit back the knot in my stomach. I forced myself to look away from him, nervous that he would judge me for it. He wouldn’t know what it was like. He simply had sex. It wasn’t the same. He would be going home to a warm bed and the freedom to choose what he did with his day. I didn’t have that luxury. I might never have it again, and it was because of his family.
There was a sense of regret that came with my thoughts. Savio inched closer to me and brought his hand to the strap of my dress, lifting it for me. His dress shirt was still open, allowing me to see every inch of his perfect body for a second, the image of that body rubbing against mine flashed in my mind. I averted my eyes and flinched at his touch. It was great at the moment, but that moment was over. I was left with an overwhelming sensation of guilt that froze me in place. The image I’d had of his family hurting all of my siblings and shooting my parents dead passed before my eyes.
He was my enemy. Now he was something else.
I was on the cusp of something, but I couldn’t tell what. His touch was soft, and he was helping me dress. Was he really the monster I’d made him out to be? He hadn’t raped me. I’d instigated every part of what had happened. Sure, it had been weird as hell when he kidnapped me from my cell, only to have me sing to him, but not once had he done anything to physically or mentally harm me. He’d tried and miserably failed most of the time. He wasn’t like the rest of his family. I wanted to believe that.
I considered why it had happened. The instigator had been him letting me know that Antonio was dead. Antonio had been the strongest in my family. If anyone was naturally born to be my father’s heir, it was Antonio. Lucia had been raised to take over, but Antonio had always been a natural-born leader. He was a staple in our family—a pillar. The thought of him being dead and not even being able to have a proper funeral broke my heart.
Had Savio used that to his advantage?
I lightly jumped as Savio placed his hand in the space between us. I took it, despite my reservations, and rose to my feet. The floor was cold, and the sun was beginning to rise. I didn’t know what time he’d come to get me, but we had spent hours learning each other’s bodies. I was trapped in my own thoughts, unable to rule out if I actually cared about Savio or if I had done all of this out of desperation. I’d needed human contact after learning about Antonio’s death.
“Are you okay?
“I’m okay. I’m just processing what we did,” I answered honestly, making sure that my dress straps were on properly. “Obviously, it was my first time. I just need a second.”
He began to button up his dress shirt as he nodded, more to himself than me. I was glad that he wasn’t pressing the issue. I didn’t really want to talk about it in-depth. There were parts of him that I’d seen that were troubling, though. His back had been crossed with scars. They didn’t look like something someone got from falling out of a tree as a kid—they looked deliberate. I couldn’t help but stare at him as he finished buttoning up his shirt. What had he been through as a child? I could only imagine that it was part of the reason the Cavettis were as messed up as they were.
“I have a question, though,” I said, my voice low. “What happened to your back? There are some scars there.”
Savio inhaled deeply and averted his eyes. My stomach twisted at the thought of forcing him to relive his memories, simply to satisfy my curiosity. I was interested in how it happened, and asking him was no small feat. I’d been nervous to even look at his back for too long. But I had to know. If it was Angelo who hurt him, it would start to humanize the Cavettis in my eyes. My siblings and I never suffered abuse. If the Cavetti siblings had, it would explain some of their twisted behaviors—most of all, Romeo’s behavior.
“I don’t really talk about it much,” he replied, averting his eyes from mine. “My father did it. He’s the kind of man who retaliates through pain. Usually, it’s physical. It didn’t matter if it was against us. If anyone spoke out of turn or upset him, we’d suffer.”
The way he said it was enough to cause a shiver to run up my spine. There was pain there, and I could tell just from his voice. Those scars carried a heavy weight, so heavy, in fact, that I felt like a jerk for asking him. I was surprised that he’d answered my question at all. It was such a personal thing, so I knew that it took a lot for him to even talk about it.
“I’m sorry.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s fine. It’s not like it’s some great big secret around here. We’ve all dealt with my asshole of a dad in one way or another.”
I bit my lip, feeling overwhelmed with his admission. It explained some of their behavior—they forced the cruelty that they endured on others. It definitely made sense. I just wondered if I was simply excusing Romeo’s behavior.
“Why didn’t you guys ever do anything about it?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Didn’t you ever fear your dad? Or were things different in your house?”
I considered it. I wasn’t really afraid of my father. Sure, he was definitely emotionally abusive, simply because he wanted power over people. He’d grown up thinking he was the strongest man in the world, and he’d always had people who he could boss around. It was all about having as many people at your beck and call as you could. My mother was under his thumb to the point where she’d self-medicated, simply to escape from his domineering world. My sister, Chiara, was afraid of him. For some reason, I’d never really looked at him the way Chiara and Lucia did. I mainly just avoided him, especially when he was going on his rants about us all being disappointments or when things went poorly with a shipment or at a meeting. He’d take it out on us, but not in the same way that Savio had suffered under Angelo Cavetti.
The thought of my father beating us until we had scars was unfathomable. A slap here or there when we were kids? Sure. That happened, but nothing like what I’d seen on Savio’s back. Knowing that Angelo Cavetti could harm his own children that way made me question what else he was capable of. The thought alone made my stomach churn. Who else had he hurt? I didn’t want to imagine it.
“Not like you were scared of yours. I mean, that’s insane. How could he do something like that?”
“I don’t know. I never really understood it,” Savio said and lowered himself back down to the ground, leaning his back against the cool wall. “He’s always just been an asshole. It’s legit been like that my whole life. I don’t even know where he got it from because my nonna was an awesome lady. She was so nice.”
“Was it mostly physical? Also, why wouldn’t you just stay with your nonna, then? If she was as nice as you say, you probably could’ve. Unless she lived with you guys.”
I kneeled down and allowed my body to go slack against the wall, enjoying the cool sensation against my hot skin. A warm breeze passed through the shed, entering through a crack beneath the door. We were sitting there in the shed, both leaning against the wall, as though we hadn’t just explored each other’s bodies. I never thought the time would come where I would enjoy Savio’s company on such a personal level. Still, everything he said sounded so important to his life and how he’d turned out. I couldn’t understand why he was so different from his other brothers. He came across as kind and caring. He definitely didn’t take advantage of my body forcefully, as Romeo had done with Lucia.
I wasn’t sure what to believe.
