by Bree Porter
“Cat?” I said. “I took something from Cat?” “Yeah, Catherine. Your sister.” He pressed the gun harder to my skull. “You got another sister? No, you don’t. Now, tell me where you took her stuff.”
“Don Piero has Cat’s documents. Her birth certificate and driver’s license. It’s in the family—“ “No, that’s not it, Sophia.” He crooned. “She said you would play dumb, but now I’m starting to think you’re actually an idiot.”
I frowned in confusion. “Who said I would play dumb?”
The man thrusted the gun, causing my head to smack back against the wall. A futile attempt at trying not to get my brains blown out.
He shoved himself into my personal space. My skin crawled at being so close to him. I hated this—I hated feeling his chest against mine, his sticky hot breath on my skin. With a rough movement, he reached down and grabbed my hand. He yanked it up, holding my fingers out in front of us.
“You lie and I shoot one off. That will keep happening until you tell me the truth.”
Tears were rapidly falling down my cheeks and my chin was wobbling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I pleaded. “My sister is dead. She doesn’t have anything anymore. I don’t have any of her stuff.”
“That’s it!” The man reached for my ring finger. His grip was painful as he squeezed it. “This is the first finger to go.”
As soon as he brought the gun away from my head, I shoved forward with everything inside of me. I stumbled into his chest, wrenching my hand back. The man stumbled back in surprise and I took that chance to run.
I didn’t even know where I was going. My feet just took me forward.
The man let out a cry of fury and his footsteps began to pound after me.
I flew into my bedroom, straight to the bedside table. Where was it? Where was it?
A hand yanked my hair, wrenching me back and onto my knees. I scrambled, screaming furiously at the pain and frustration.
“You stupid bitch!” The man yelled. I let out a horrible howl. He threw his weight onto me and I went crashing to the ground, my face hitting the bed roughly. “You think you can fucking beat me? You stupid bitch!”
I felt his gun against the back of my head.
“Now tell me where the USB is before I blow your fucking brains!”
My fingers closed around the handle of the blade. I swung my arm back awkwardly, going straight for his side. His flesh parted beneath the knife and I felt hot sticky blood spill onto my fingers.
The man screamed out in pain. I caught sight of his arm drawing back, and then he swiped it across the back of my head. My neck flew with the impact, twisting painfully. I let out another cry of pain.
“Give me that fucking knife!” He tore it from my fingers and threw it. I heard it clinking against the glass window, now meters away. The man pressed down roughly on my head, pinning me to the bed. “Where the fuck is the USB?”
I shrieked out in fury.
“Not scared of a gun, huh?” The man growled. “I bet I know what you’re afraid of.”
His beefy hand caught my thigh and wrenched it open.
Fear struck me cold. No, no.
I screamed out in fury and kicked my leg. His grip was hard and painful, but I felt his fingers loosen as I collided my foot directly into the stab wound.
The man howled, and wrenched me up. With his knees, he shoved me onto the bed, ass up.
“NO!” I screamed and struggled. “GET OFF ME!”
He laughed and shoved me down. “Tell me where your sister’s shit is, bitch.” The man leaned over me, his belly pressing against my back. His wet breath hit my ear. “They were gonna send her, you know. But I convinced them not to. And I’m so glad I did. Catherine’s hot but you go all the looks, clearly.”
I shrieked furiously, too far gone into primal rage for coherent words.
The man laughed and pressed me further into the mattress. “Tell me where the—“
There was a sound unlike anything I had ever heard before. It shuddered through the room, louder than my screaming and the masked man’s threats.
All of the sudden, the man’s weight was completely off me. I wrenched back onto my feet and scrambled away, feet getting caught in my dressing gown. My ankles twisted and I collapsed to the floor, sliding along the wall.
I turned my neck up and stopped.
Alessandro stood facing my attacker. He looked…godless. Fury and power emanated from him, making him almost otherworldly. He looked like he had in that church all those weeks ago. Like this was what he was created for, this violence, this life, this power, was his by birthright. He didn’t just own it, he wore it. He wielded it.
And it was terrifying.
The masked man tried to get up from where he had been thrown but Alessandro wasted no time. He lunged like an animal onto the man and swiped him directly in the face. The man’s head was thrown back painfully.
Alessandro punched him again, drawing blood back on his knuckles.
He grabbed his shirt and yanked him up. “Who do you work for?” He snarled.
The man breathed wetly, blood dripping down his face. “Fuck…you.”
Alessandro smashed his head into the ground and then brought him back up. Blood scuffed the floor. “I asked you a question,” he hissed in a warped voice. “Who do you work for?” With each word, Alessandro pressed harder onto the man’s neck.
I watched, a protective hand on my abdomen, both fascinated and horrified at the bloody exchange.
“Fuck you.” Hissed the man.
Alessandro smashed the man’s head against the floor. Then again. And again.
My husband let out a shuddering breath. He released the man’s neck, letting him fall like a rag doll.
There was a moment of silence in the wake of the attack. I was breathing so hard—so was Alessandro. Our chests fell rapidly, the sharp intake the only sound to be heard in the room.
My skin felt icky and gross from the attacker’s touch, my flesh felt vulnerable, violated. I wanted it gone, I wanted that feeling gone. I wanted to feel the warm rough touch of Alessandro, wanted his strong arms around me, his familiar scent in my nose.
Alessandro snapped his head to me, nostrils flaring.
We stared at each other for a moment.
I scrambled towards him and Alessandro lunged for me. We met in the middle, clashing in a heat of flesh and adrenaline. Our lips smashed against each other, heat thundering through me at the touch of his mouth against mine. The kiss was full of need, a clashing of teeth.
“I need you—Alessandro—“
Alessandro didn’t need to hear it again. He pushed down onto the floor, caging me in. I shoved at his shirt, furious with the barrier between us and he broke of the kiss to throw it over his head. I ran my fingers over his hot flesh and scrape my nails over his muscles.
“Sophia,” he breathed.
Everything was too much, too overwhelming. But I never wanted it to stop. I wanted to be consumed by Alessandro, wanted to feel him and only him. I wanted to feed this hungry that was so ravenous inside of me.
I moaned against his lips, begging.
Alessandro growled in response and clawed at my clothes. He tore at my pyjama shorts, splitting the silky fabric. His fingers went straight for my clit and he rubbed it.
I dug my heels into the floor, arching up. My breasts felt heavy and tingly, but that was nothing compared to the growing ache between my legs. “Alessandro, please.” I didn’t even know what I was pleading for.
With a quick manoeuvre, Alessandro tore away the underwear, revealing me to him. I stretched my legs up, wanting him in me, against me.
He held himself above me, hands positioned by my head. Before he could say anything, I wrapped my legs around his back and held myself to him, feeling the hard length of his cock against my folds.
Alessandro tipped his head back, letting out an agonising roar of pure pleasure. Then he pressed himself to my folds and entered. It was not soft or kind,
unlike the wedding night, but instead fast and rough.
I moaned out in pleasure, unable to get enough.
I could feel him inside of me, so strong and demanding. His entire presence surrounded me. It was intoxicating and I couldn’t get enough of it.
Alessandro’s hips sped up quickly and he was plunged himself deep inside of me, earning cries and moans from myself. It was so strong, so rough. All the adrenaline from the fight was coming out, all the thoughts of violence and anger and fear followed. The sex was rough and fast and hungry.
I dug my nails into his back, holding on for dear life. “Please, please—“ I mumbled through the pleasure.
Alessandro reached an arm back and caught my clit. He gave it a hard squeeze.
Like a strike of lightning, my hips buckled and I arched into him, crying out loudly. I couldn’t say anything—couldn’t think anything. Everything came down to the feel of his cock entering me, his fingers against my clit. Anything more and my senses would’ve exploded.
Alessandro came with a shuddering breath, his strength momentarily disappearing. His half-collapsed onto me, his sweaty skin sticking to mine. Strands of his hair were stuck against his forehead and his breath was coming out rapidly in the aftermath.
He pressed his forehead to mine, staring into my eyes.
Silence descended, each of us trying to regain our breath.
“Is he dead?” I whispered as a few minutes.
Alessandro lifted himself off me, but didn’t roll away. “No.” He said. “I’m going to keep him alive.”
On instinct I reached out and smoothed away his loose hair. He didn’t stop me. “I think you should kill him.”
“I will, eventually. But first he has to tell us who he is working for.”
I nodded.
Abruptly, he pulled away. Alessandro rose to his feet, and offered me his hand as he did so. I took them gratefully and leaned on him for support as I got to my feet. Sticky blood coated both our clothes but neither of us seemed to really notice.
Standing, I was able to take in my bedroom. Though it was usually a mess, I certainly hadn’t caused this. My dresser and furniture was tossed upside down and to the side, my clothes were strewn all over the place and my personal items thrown around the room. Even photos of my family and friends had suffered, some being torn from their places on the walls.
I reached out for the photo frame on my bedside table. The glass was severed, disrupting the image of my sister and I. I held it tightly.
“Let’s get you dressed and then go downstairs.” Alessandro said. He loosened his grip on me but I didn’t let go. I might’ve collapsed to the floor without him.
Polpetto waited by the stairs, whining and shaking. When he saw Alessandro and I, he trotted up to us and pawed at our knees. I picked him up and held him close to my chest, burying my face into his warm fur. He licked at me, his tail wagging.
I’m not sure how, but I ended up sitting at the kitchen bench, in a thick warm robe. Alessandro gave me a glass of water.
“Sergio and Oscuro are going to come over and remove the bastard.” He told me.
I nodded, unable to form words.
Alessandro stayed with me until the elevator dinged. He let in the two Made Men. Both Sergio and Oscuro gave me interested looks as they passed, though Sergio looked much more calculating than Oscuro. Sergio was a terrifying man, with his hard eyes and complex tattoos. But no fear filled me as I watched him move about the penthouse.
Instead I just felt tired.
When the men disappeared upstairs, I pressed a hand to my stomach.
“Are you okay, baby?” I whispered. “I hope you’re okay.”
I didn’t feel any discomfort, except for the constant nausea and exhaustion. Was that a good sign? I wondered. Could shock lead to a miscarriage?
The man had been very rough with me, and my body ached dully in the aftermath. He hadn’t gotten my stomach, and there had been no trauma there. But what if…
Don’t think like this, I told myself. We’ll make an appointment with Dr. Parlatore as soon as possible. She’ll be able to check on the baby.
I sounded so rational, just like my sister. It was almost funny.
I set up the picture of Cat and I in front of me. It was the photo taken at our last Christmas together, with the two of us dressed exquisitely and laughing with each other. I traced her face, ignoring the pinch of the broken glass on my finger.
They were gonna send her, you know. But I convinced them not to. And I’m so glad I did. Catherine’s hot but you got all the looks, clearly.
She said you would play dumb, but now I’m starting to think you’re actually an idiot.
The man’s voice rang through my mind. He had spoken about Catherine with such familiarity…but that was impossible. I knew all of Cat’s friends and he hadn’t been one of them.
Though, I had also once believed my sister didn’t have a college diploma.
I took in my laughing sister, so young and happy. I use to think I knew her better than anyone else in the world, but it was becoming increasingly clear to me that was not the case.
I couldn’t sleep.
I made up the spare room bed, but it didn’t matter. Every time I closed my eyes, I snapped them back open. Each noise or creak was a threat. And every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was the attacker. Then I saw the man I had killed at my wedding. All these people who wanted me dead and I didn’t know a single one of their names.
The two porcelain dolls watching me from the corner of the room didn’t help calm me.
It had been a few hours since Sergio and Oscuro left with my attacker. They had tied him up and duct taped his mouth, but he had come back to consciousness. He had watched me with greedy eyes as they had dragged him away, leaving a trail of blood leading out of the apartment. I had taken one look at it and decided to clean it up tomorrow.
But with the way I was unable to sleep, it would be tomorrow sooner than I wished. After another hour of twisting and turning, I grabbed my pillow and padded down the hall.
I knocked softly on his door. There was no answer, so I opened it and peeked into his room.
Except for the dull light from the city, the room was dark. But I could make out Alessandro’s long body beneath the covers. He snapped his head, dark eyes gleaming.
“Can I sleep with you?” I whispered.
Alessandro stared at me.
I clutched my pillow tighter. “I promise not to jump you.” But I wouldn’t mind if you wanted me to. “I…I don’t like the spare room.”
Alessandro stretched out and lifted the blanket. I hurried into the room, closing the door behind me, and came around to the other side of the bed. Polpetto trotted behind me, curious at the new smells.
I slid beneath the warm covers. My dog jumped onto the end of the bed, did three little spins, before settling down for the night.
“Thank you.” I murmured into the dark.
“Try to get some sleep.” Alessandro said.
I twisted onto my side, facing his dark silhouette. “Where did you take the man?”
For a moment I thought he wouldn’t answer, but then his voice came to me. “To a private house, used for…matters like these. Sergio is with him right now.”
“Do you know him?”
“No.”
“Is a Gallagher?” “Maybe.”
I pulled the blanket up higher. “Do you know who he is allied with?”
Alessandro’s head turned to me. “No.”
“Do you want me to tell you what happened?” “Not now.” He answered. “Right now, I just want you to go to sleep.”
I flushed, realising I had probably been keeping him awake. I buried myself further into the bed, feeling myself settle. Alessandro was an arms length away but I could feel his warmth, his body. It had been years since I had shared a bed, but I felt myself settle and slowly drift off into sleep.
For the first time in a long time, I slept without nightmares.
I woke up feeling calm and warm.
Muscled arms were wrapped tightly around me, holding me close. My face was pressed into a strong chest, and a soft heartbeat thrummed in time with my own. I breathed deeply, unable to properly open my eyes. I could’ve fallen back asleep…
Nausea shoved into me roughly, reminding me that it was morning and I was still pregnant.
I launched from the bed, scrambled to the floor and fled to the bathroom. I felt the cool press of the toilet bowl before hunching over and vomiting my guts out.
A strong hand pressed against my head, smoothing down my hair. “Sophia?” Alessandro asked. “Why are you vomiting?”
I nodded into the toilet bowl. “No reason.” I croaked.
Alessandro continued to rub my back in slow soothing movements. When I pulled away, he offered me a wet cloth to wash my face with. I leaned back against the bathroom cabinet and cleaned myself up. It was hard to look up at him, I felt icky and embarrassed.
“Why did you vomit, Sophia?” Alessandro asked.
I swallowed. “I don’t feel well, I guess. Last night…was very stressful.” The feeling of unfamiliar hands shoving at my body shuddered over me.
Alessandro crouched down in front of me. His face was in a familiar expression. “Why are you annoyed?” I asked.
“You know I don’t like your lying.” He said.
I quickly looked away from him, not sure how to proceed. Papa’s warnings were running through my mind on repeat.
But I needn’t of worried, because Alessandro was much sharper than I gave him credit for. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” It wasn’t much of a question. It sounded like he already knew the answer.
I nodded. “How did you know?” “Besides from the weird meals you have been cooking for dinner lately, my grandfather’s comments indicated to me enough. And now, you have confirmed it for me.” He recounted the events efficiently, not sounding mad or happy about the news.