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“Then stop punishing me for something you can’t do either.” I forced through gritted teeth.
His hold on my arms sent a painful sting through my body but I didn’t care. I needed him to finally see me. Understand me.
“I never held what happened to you over your head.” I reminded him. “And I never used it against you—”
“Nothing happened to me.” He cut me off and I swallowed. “I swear to fucking God, Nirah, you better not bring this up again.”
“Antonio—”
“I won’t tell you a second time.” He eliminated the space between us. “I never want to hear you speak about this again, do you understand me?”
His words cut deep, but I knew that unless he wanted to have this conversation, we wouldn’t. Ever. And I hated it.
“If we can’t be honest with each other, then maybe we shouldn’t be together.”
He stepped back, eyes hard. “Maybe.”
“Great!” I scoffed. “Then let me go!”
“I can’t!” He stepped so close I could feel the heat of his body.
“But you’re— this repeated cycle— you’re—you’re hurting me.”
“I can’t let you go, Nirah!”
A sharp pain erupted in my chest and when I squeezed my eyes shut, anticipating the blow, the air shifted and he was gone. Every single muscle in my face relaxed, coming to terms with the truth I’d been going against the gradient with. He’s not his brother, Nirah…
Reluctantly, I pierced my eyes open and allowed both hands to fly to my neck as I swallowed, then deeply inhaled. Antonio is not Alexander.
CHAPTER 35
Antonio
Nirah didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about. She didn’t know anything.
I wasn’t taken advantage of, I couldn’t have been.
Fernandina saved my life. I wanted to thank her. The how didn’t matter. All I knew was that I owed her everything.
She had always told me how handsome I was. How mature my body had grown to be.
I wasn’t blind. I knew exactly what she wanted, and I gave it to her. Willingly. I didn’t give a damn about what my mother, Rosalia or Nirah thought about it. I did it.
They said I was just a child. A weak, unaware child that didn’t know better.
My fist slammed into the wall beside my punching bag. I wasn’t fucking weak. And I didn’t need anyone to save me.
My hands flew to the back of my head as I gripped my hair, squeezing my eyes shut. I wasn’t weak— I wasn’t! And nothing… happened.
With a heaving chest I grabbed my suit jacket and left the gym. I couldn’t get the adrenaline in my body to subside so I exited the house and climbed into my car. I needed to get away.
* * *
“Where’s Mrs. De Luca?” Dr West’s eyebrows furrowed.
“She’s feeling ill.” Lie.
I was too much of a pussy to face the music. Face her. Fuck!
