“It would be good for you!”
“No, otherwise the Sect's existence would come to surface and this is not a risk we can run.”
I sigh, because I don’t know what to answer, I don’t know what to do. I haven't yet understood what is in store for me, I have no idea how the Sect works. From what Leonardo has said, they are just powerful men who are trying to preserve their wealth by penetrating the system in partially illegal ways, but what if it hides something else?
“What should I do?”
“Become one of us.”
“How?”
“We will set the day of the initiation ceremony and only after signing the Parchment, you will meet the other members and know all the Sect's secrets.”
My eyes widen and mouth drops open. Someone wake me up, someone tell me I'm in a weird reality show.
“Initiation Ceremony?” I repeat.
“A ritual we've all been subjected to.”
“I, I... I don’t know what to say. Does my mother know about this Sect?”
“She knows what she is allowed to know. Soon you'll take command of the Livori's empire and be sure, Ambra, that your father has really created an empire. When you learn how to manage your family affairs, we'll help you to run everything and you'll understand that the Sect will be your reference point.”
“Or my ruin!” I think it and say it, biting my tongue at once.
“Oh, no, you can be sure of that.”
“If I accept, can I go back home?”
“Ambra,”Leonardo takes my hands again, “there is no if . You must accept. You can't refuse. And yes, if you want, after the ceremony, you can go home.”
“There's only one problem.”
“What?”
“No one can tell me what I can or cannot do.”
I pull my hands out of his and I get up, step back, continuing to stare at him and when I turn my face, nobody is scolding me. Leonardo remained petrified on that sofa, shocked by my answer.
Are we kidding?
There are no binding contracts. There is just a society, a secret one not recognized by law, requiring someone to be part of a concealing organization.
Let everyone go to hell!
When I come back, as if it wasn't enough, Krum's statuary body is waiting for me at the entrance. I remain immobile for a moment and let my eyes run down his body that - until a few hours ago - was on me, in me, in my arms.
“Is everything ok?”
“What do you think?”
He steps toward me and I step back, cross my arms, and gaze at him, wanting him to disappear.
“Are you angry?”
“No, why should I be angry?” I'm pungent and sarcastic.
His gloomy eyes look worried, I don’t know if he is thinking about what happened with Leonardo or if he is preoccupied because he knows he has lost his toy doll.
“What are you thinking about?”
“About what?” Now I step in his direction, I'm forced to lift my head to see his eyes. “Are you talking about my conversation with Leonardo or about your unacceptable behavior?”
As he usually does when he tries to understand what is on my mind, he squints and frowns. His lips, those cursed lips that burned my skin all night, remind me of my inadequacy and lack of rationality.
“My unacceptable behavior…” he whispers those words as if he was translating them in his head.
He comes closer, slowly and glacially, and I don’t move this time, because I want him to understand he has no effect on me. My eyes try to divert his, falling on his chest slightly uncovered by his shirt. He seems to liven up and returns to be exactly the asshole he is. He grabs my chin with his cold fingers and pulls my face up, forcing me to look into his eyes.
“You…” his breath warms my forehead. “You insulted me while I was inside you. You said I was your hell when I was telling you that you were…” He stops himself and, certainly, he cannot repeat the same lie twice in a day. It would be too much even for him.
“Your paradise? Really?” I tease him.
The grip on my chin intensifies and I move back annoyed. He bats his eyelashes, as if my stepping back was hurting him.
“Wanting to fuck, people say anything,” he bursts.
What?
I can't control my hand that slaps his face with the speed of light. I'm forced to pull it back and massage it in the other. My palm is still shaking, I still can hear the sound of the slap on his face in the air.
His face slowly rotates toward mine and my heart accelerates in proportion to the fear of seeing him jump at me.
He's got angry eyes.
“It's the fifth slap!” He has tight fists, white knuckles like never before.
“Don’t stop yourself,” I provoke him, “be what you are. Come on, Krum, hit me! I'm not afraid to see the beast that's in you. I know you're nothing if not… this.”
I notice his rigid body, clearly contracted to suppress the impulse of hurting me.
He breathes anxiously; his dark eyes glitter; his nostrils widen and his lips, those lips that now are a painful vision, open up and exhale as if they want to expel anger out of his body.
“You're a hateful and destructive creature,” he says.
I move my face toward his and whisper with confidence: “Never as much as you.”
His step towards me forces me to retreat. Paradoxically I find relief by bumping into the frozen marble wall. Its coolness contrasts with the heat in my body. I wince hoping to suppress this feeling that is wearing me out: the desire to let go and touch him, just put a palm on his chest, to feel him, just once, so close to me to erase everything.
He traps my body with his hands against the wall and bends to gaze at me, trying to reach my soul with that dark look.
“You don’t realize what you are for me.”
“What?”
“Everything.”
With one word he managed to make me feel dizzy, to make me see clouds in the air, to overheat every inch of my body and to destroy my confidence.
I know I can hurt him with words. So I desperately look for the worst ones that can break him down.
“I regret every single second spent in your arms. I hate that I have given you myself and my confidence. Now - thanks to your behavior - not only will I never forgive you for all the harm you have done to me, but I won’t even forgive myself for having been so stupid to believe that you were good to me.” I gaze at him with all the cruelty I have in my body and slowly say: “You are useless to me. U-se-less.”
As he assimilates my words, his face becomes pale, his chest is deflated from his pride. His well-built body seems to creep down to where I want him to be. Even if he is still standing in front of me, I feel that I've really destroyed him. I almost perceive that crack in the air, the sound of the break, the noise of his heart, just broken by me.
He bows his eyes, defeated and I discover that I hate, profoundly, the cruel part of me that has destroyed this man; the same man who - in his turn - has destroyed me over and over again. But, inside, I'm different. I can feel his pain and now I want to delete it.
I cannot even understand myself. I cannot understand anything anymore. I only see this wonderful man who seems to have just lost heart and soul.
He squints and I mentally prepare myself for a reaction. I leap up when he punches the wall near my face, and when he grabs first my wrist and then my hair. I understand I have completely torn from his chest the little heart he has.
27
KRUM
Bulgaria, nineteen years earlier.
Dad is very happy. I'm happy to see him smiling so much today; finally he's earned a lot money. Lately he has earned more and more, but today it's really a lot. I cannot count well. I don’t go to school and dad doesn’t want to teach me. But when the man dressed in black says: “Here, Botev, it's six thousand lev.” I repeat in my head that sum of money because it's really impressive.
I've never seen so much money and maybe I’ll never se
e it again.
“Well, well, well…” Dad wets his fingers and counts it many times, as if he too was incredulous. “Krum, get your bag.”
“What bag?” I don’t understand.
“The only one you have. Get it and put your stuff in it.”
“Why?”
“You must go with this gentleman.”
“I am not going with the gentleman. I am not doing that thing again!”
I've begged Dad to let me go only with women, because I cannot do it with men. He accepted it and after that time only women used to come home.
“Go and take your bag, Krum. I don't want to repeat it.”
I do as he says and I get my bag, the backpack mom had bought me to go to school, only I haven't seen mom since that day, not even the school.
I put something in it, without looking at what. Actually, I have nothing.
When I go back to my dad, he and the gentleman are drinking rakiya. When dad drinks rakiya, he does bad things.
I let the backpack fall to the ground and they notice me. I stare at that man as if I wanted to tell him not to touch me. If he tries this time I'll run away and I won’t come back anymore.
The man gets up, finishes his glass and shakes dad's hand.
“It's a pleasure to do business with you, Botev. You'll receive more money later.”
“It's more than I expected.” Dad shakes his hand and then approaches me, bending over and putting his hands on my shoulders. “Now you'll go with him. Behave well and do what I've taught you.”
“Where do I have to go?”
“This gentleman will take you where there are other children.”
“To school?”
“Also.”
“You said I should do what you've taught me.” I look at the man and say: “I do it only with women.” The man laughs, he has an ugly and wry laugh. I don’t want to go with this man. “Dad, tell him that I only do it with women.”
“Yes, of course.” Daddy is weird, he has red eyes and he's trembling. Maybe he drank too much.
“When can I come back?”
“You won’t come back, Krum. You are useless to me. Go with the gentleman.”
I cannot move.
Dad said I'm useless.
Dad said "go with the gentleman".
Daddy repeats it.
“You have no reason to stay here. You are useless. Now, go.”
He doesn’t look at me anymore, turns and pours more liquor into the glass.
“Come on, Krum. I paid your father well, he will be ok. Come on,” he says.
I'm confused. My backpack is lightweight and I hold it on my shoulder. I turn around and look for my dad.
Dad is turned around. Dad drinks and doesn’t look at me.
Dad takes the money in his hands again.
The gentleman paid Dad and I have to go with the gentleman.
I'm angry with Dad, so I don’t even greet him. He doesn’t even look at me.
* * *
You are useless.
Those words hurt more than before. Hearing them from her is worse than hearing them coming from my dad's mouth. That abominable being was scum. She is my angel, she cannot hurt me so badly.
My condemnation seems to have just begun. Never, never, would I have imagined to feel this way looking at her eyes as she says she regretted everything I gave her. The cruelty of this woman is limitless, the effect of her words on me is incomparable to anything. I feel lost, empty. It's as if I suddenly lost my eyesight, hearing and speech. She deprived me of oxygen, took vital parts from my body and crushed them under her feet with no pity.
She is merciless.
I drag her along the corridor, her shrilling voice fills the space, hearing her shouting feeds the sadism I'm proud of, I don’t hide it and I feed her fear.
“Go ahead. Scream, bitch!”
“Let me go!” She bites the palm of my hand that is clutching her wrist, I feel her blood vessels pumping against my skin.
“Crap!” I tug her, she has very nasty teeth. I grab her arms and throw her up against the wall. “Shout, shout for me, bitch! You know I like to hear you screaming…”
“W-what do you want to do?”
“I'll refresh your memory. I'll remind you of exactly what you've regretted.”
I continue dragging her by the wrist, straight to the corridor leading to the wing of the five senses.
I'll fuck her as if it were the last thing I do in my life and she will realize that repenting to be mine was the worst mistake she could make.
“Krum, please!” Now I'm getting fed up. If she keeps opposing, I'll carry her on my shoulders. “What makes you so angry? I don’t understand, why do you care so much about what I say to you?”
My head turns furiously toward her.
“You don’t understand, do you? Don’t you understand?”
She denies shocked. Her eyes blind me. It's as if I was looking at two small spheres created to burn my soul.
I swallow. Being in her eyes is like walking around in paradise, but realizing to be in hell instead.
“What should I understand? Explain it to me!”
“Do you want me to explain it to you?” She nods, but I understand that she just wants to control me.
I continue dragging her around the hallways and this time she collaborates, desperately trying to take my hand off her wrist.
“Please Krum, you're hurting me!”
I stop and my eyes catch sight of my grip on her that begins to redden. I realize that I've lost control again; I'm facing the result of my anger, again. She gazes at me as if she hates me, again.
My fingers slide over her skin and look for hers. I intertwine her index, her middle finger and the rest. I grasp her hand and she responds to the grip; inside me a train is passing, trampling every fragment of my soul. I feel like a piece of shit like every time I touch her, like every time I take her, like every time I cannot be her well-being.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Do you trust me?” I ask calmly.
“No,” I increase the hold on her hand and pull it to my chest, she puffs and seems to fall into my arms.
Although I am exactly what she says, a beast, I now feel completely devoted to her; I feel totally hers and if she was to ask me something, anything, I would do it as the last act of my life. But she doesn’t know it, and I'm not gonna tell her. She wouldn't understand, she would have just more material to cover me with insults.
“Krum,” she sighs, as I press her against me and I feel my body in a turmoil just at the touch of her skin.
“Ambra.” My other hand is wandering, moves up and rests on her face, I hope she doesn't refuse me. When I see that she closes her eyes and her cheek drops into my palm, I feel my heart regenerate and keep throbbing for this woman who has the power to crush it whenever she likes. “Ambra.”
She opens her eyes and looks at me.
“Why are you like this?”
“I don’t know how to be any other way,” I whisper so quietly that I almost don’t want her to hear me.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I've always been this way.”
I can understand that she is fine because the color of her face and her breathing are changing and I feel her more relaxed in my arms.
Her hand rests on my chest, slowly climbing my body until it reaches my cheek. She is caressing me and it's like being touched by a non-human entity, made of light and heat.
“Have you ever been caressed?” I blink, confused by her question. I think seriously and answer.
“Yes, you are doing it to me now.”
She looks at my lips and touches them with her small fingers, but they have an immense power: they make me feel alive, desired, considered and unique.
“Why do you do this to me?” she whispers.
“I cannot control myself when I'm with you.”
“I mean… this,” she puts my hand on her chest. “It's exploding, Krum. Listen.”
&n
bsp; Thump thump, thump thump, thump thump.
It's an uninterrupted explosion.
I put my forehead on hers and she sighs. I press on her and show her that she, too, owns my body in an absolutely overwhelming way. My erection doesn't intimidate her, instead, attracts her to me making her hungry. The situation makes me very proud.
“Are you afraid?” I ask. Her forehead rubs on me because she is nodding. “Are you afraid of me or of what you feel?”
“I'm afraid of myself.”
“Don’t you want to experience what you feel?”
“No.”
“But you are in my arms, you are caressing me, letting me touch you and…” I rub my erection searching for her bud. “You love being touched by me.”
“I am not able to do without.”
I would kiss her because she's just admitted that she cannot live without me. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard. She's the only person in the world who says she needs me. She's the only one who could want me and keep me, she's the only one who would never sell me, who wouldn't let me go as if I were an object, as they all have always done.
I close my eyes and enjoy the moment caressing her mouth and her nose, then her lips. I have stopped holding her imprisoned because now she is the one who wants to stick to my body. Her hands are behind my neck and mine are on her hips. I dare not kiss her, I don’t want to go beyond, I don’t wanna be the usual man who expects everything, I have already asked too much of her. Her soft mouth, searching for mine, is becoming a delicious torture, impossible to ignore.
“Do you feel it in the air?” I ask. “Do you feel it?”
“Electricity.”
I smile because we understand each other, we speak the same language.
“It's everywhere when you're with me, when I touch you,” a hand slides to her butt, I hold it possessively. It's mine. “When I see you,” I'm searching for her eyes. “When I feel you,” I take her hand and bring it to my pump. She grasps it and a series of pins pierce me everywhere. “It's so powerful, inebriating, destructive.”
“Powerful,” she whispers on my lips. “Inebriating,” she smells my neck. “Destructive,” she massages me decisively.
He wants it all Page 29