"Watch me," I feign indignation as I change direction, rushing toward him from behind. He sees me, and laughing loudly, he manages to avoid my ticklish hands.
He's sneaky, dodging me by slipping through my arms and doing a U-turn to push me to the ground—the tickled becoming the tickler.
"Luca," I whimper, giggling as he tries to torture me with his little hands.
"That's it, baby boy. You're mine now," I tell him, my voice menacingly amusing. Catching his hands in mine, I bring him to my chest, kissing his little forehead. "Did I tell you I love you today?"
"Uhm, twice," he says bashfully.
"One more time, then. I looooove you," I profess in a singsong voice, prompting him to giggle some more.
"What the fuck is this?" I look up and am met by Enzo's stern features as he takes in the scene before him.
"Luca, go to your room," his voice booms, and Luca flinches, burrowing a little closer in my arms.
"You shouldn't speak like that to him," I find my voice, even though inside I'm terrified of what's going to happen.
I'd been so happy to be near Luca that I hadn't thoughteverything through. Like what would happen if Enzo caught me.
"So now I'm taking lessons from you on how to raise my child?" His voice is filled with anger and disgust, and I can't help but shiver from the venom sent my way, even though I know I'm not technically the designated recipient.
"Luca," I stroke his hair, dropping my voice so only he can hear me, "do what your father says. We'll play later," I assure him. His mossy green eyes turn toward me, looking at me almost questioningly, uncertainty written in the way his brow moves up and down. My heart breaks at the thought of betraying the fragile trust we'd built over the last few weeks.
"It's okay," I assure him again, and with a nod, he gets up. He stops briefly in front of his father and they exchange a few words before Luca runs toward the house.
"And you..." he shakes his head at me, his nose turned up in distaste. "I never thought you'd stoop so low."
Grabbing my wrist, he forces me to my feet, dragging me toward the house.
"Where are you taking me?"
"We need to have a discussion, you and I, and I don't want anyone to witness what it might degenerate into," he says, his mouth twisted in a cruel smile. His fingers are digging into my skin, his hold carelessly painful.
"Let go," I shake my hand, trying to get him to release me. "You're hurting me," I whine in an attempt to emulate Chiara.
I can't forget that he thinks I'm my sister.
"And I'll do much worse," he says, and we pass the entrance as he takes me to his office, locking both of us inside.
Shit!I need to do something about this.
A small bubble of panic erupts inside me as I think of any way to get out of this. I can't have him find out about me, not when I've worked so hard until now to craft my plans carefully.
I've been foolish, I know I have, my greedy heart unable tostay away from Luca. And so I'd risked everything—including my revenge.
But becauseheis the reason for everything I'm doing, I can't give it up. Soon, he'll be mine—just mine—and we'll go far away from this godforsaken place.
When we get inside, Enzo shoves me to the ground, and I barely manage to cushion my fall.
"What's wrong with you?" I ask, amazed at this display of cruelty. My eyes take him in, so dashing but so dangerous. The tic in his jaw tells me he's one second away from blowing up.
"What's wrong withme?"His voice sounds incredulous. "I thought I told you once that if I ever see you near Luca again, I'm going to blow your fucking brains out, didn't I?" He doesn't waste any time unholstering his gun and shoving it between my eyes.
I'm frozen to the spot, terrified that one wrong move will lead to my premature demise.
"I was just helping him. I thought he'd fallen, and I was afraid you'd get angry if something happened to him while I was at home," I lie, inventing the excuse and hoping he'll buy it.
"You? Helping him?" He scoffs at me, the gun digging even deeper into my skin. Self-preservation kicking in, I try not to focus on the steel barrel currently nestled between my eyes. Instead, I look him straight in the eyes, improvising.
