“I don’t have an answer for you,” I tell her.
She nods sadly. “You know, I used to hallucinate about you, Massimo. Think I’d see you walking ahead of me on the street, but when I ran to you, calling your name, it was never you. Never.” She starts crying. “I’m so sorry, Massimo, for what he did. So very sorry.”
Seeing her in distress gets to me, and I hold her in my arms and caress her hair. “It’s all right,miatesoro.” A part of me wonders if she’s putting on a show to save her father. I don’t really believe it. She seems so sincere, yet I also know she loves her father.
“See, I told you I was weak,” she whispers.
I keep caressing her until she calms down.
Finally she pulls away from me and asks: “Do you believe in love?”
I simply stare at her, not answering. It’s a loaded question. “Do you?”
“I don’t think I do,” she says after a moment. “Nor marriage. Not after I’ve seen how fake it is. I believe my father’s marriage to my mother was arranged, too.” She shakes her head. “Marriage never works out the way you think it will.”
“Your parents didn’t get along, did they?”
She gives me a confused look. “They got along spectacularly. Oh, apparently at first they were at each other’s throats, but eventually they grew to respect each other. I didn’t think they ever loved each other, though. I only learned the truth when my mamma died. That broke papa. To the core. Not just the death, but thewayshe died. That’s when he really started to overdo it with the bodyguards, and to suffocate me. That’s when I realized he loved her more than anything in the world. And me, as well.”
The way she died.
I don’t like the sound of that. I have a feeling her mother met some violent end. Loved ones are often used to get back at people in this business. It’s one of the reasons why I’ve always tried to avoid getting too attached to anyone. My brothers and sister can already be used against me. Adding someone else to the equation always seemed like a bad idea.
“You’re right,” I tell her finally. “Love isn’t real. Love is just a fantasy invented to convince us that the people we care for aren’t going to die. And now matter how hard we try to protect them, no matter how much we swear no harm will ever come to them, they always die, anyway.”
She studies me with sad, worried eyes. “What happened, Massimo? Who did you lose?”
I stare at her for several moments. Can I tell her? Should I?
No. I don’t like where this is going. I’ve revealed too much already, and I don’t want to open up any further. I don’t want to get attached to her, especially considering my plans for her. I’ve already lingered here long enough. I have business to attend to.
Fuck, though, as I look at her, my cock is already starting to stir. If I remain a moment longer, I’ll end up staying in this room all day with her.
I get up, and start to dress, keeping my back to her. I feel her eyes on me, watching, and it only makes my cock harder. I ignore the feeling, reminding myself that this can’t go on. That in a few hours, I’ll be selling her to the highest bidder. And I’ll probably kill her father at some point. That final, sobering thought deflates my member.
So yeah, there’s no point drawing this out. No point leading her on. I can’t give her what she wants.
I can’t take what I truly want, either.
“Where are you going?” Angela asks.
“I have work to do.” I finish putting on my shirt and head toward the door. I pause at the threshold, hoping she’ll say something to make me turn around and go back to her, like she did before.
But she doesn’t.
I walk through the door and lock it behind me.
14
Angela
Idon’t know whether to love him or hate him. He cares for me, I know he does, and yet he seems unable to break away from the course he’s plotted out for us. He seems hellbent on trading me to the highest bidder and then killing my father after.
I suppose I don’t entirely blame him, now that I understand some of his motivations. My father should have never done what he did. Having poor Massimo thrown into the sea like that, forcing my teenage crush to kill a man to survive, is no way to treat a sixteen year old. No way at all.
Still, like I told Massimo, I don’t want him to die. I love Papa. He’s always done right by me. Well, except for that stupid engagement, but I digress.
I wonder where Massimo was in such a hurry to go. Is there another woman? There must be. Eight years is a long time. He has probably slept with countless women since then. He’s hot enough to have any one he wants, so why is he bothering with me?
