Heretic: The Clans Book Ten

by Knox, Elizabeth

  “Yes, that is very true.” Ion states, before his wife dismisses everyone, stating we can leave.

  We all leave the room and I make sure to stick close to Elena as we walk into the massive foyer of the home. I’m sure we’re on the right track, but so many things are left unsaid. I’ll slowly repay her for everything I’ve done. That’s for damn sure.

  Elena places her hand on mine, and grows still all of a sudden, almost like she was fearful to reach out to me in such a way. “I need to ask you a question,” She states lowly, pulling us to a corner, away from the crowd.

  “Alright, ask away.”

  “What made you kill her?” She asks, keeping her eyes on mine. I bet she’s trying to see if I’m going to lie, or be truthful.

  “It’s simple. As much as I wanted her to be you, she was never going to. When it comes to a woman with a smart mouth, stern spine and overall brat —there’s only one woman I can stand. And that woman is you.”

  Elena beams, smiling in a way I haven’t yet seen. I’m not going to lie, I hope she keeps smiling like this. She’s beautiful in general, but this grin makes her breathtaking. “You’re not alone in the way you feel. There’s something cosmic between us, something that I don’t think should’ve ever grown, but did.”

  “We’re like the Black Dahlia, the only flower that can survive in the darkness,” I take my hand and place it under her chin, running my thumb over her bottom lip. “You’re the only woman I want in my oubliette. The only woman I want on her knees sucking my cock. The only woman I want defying me at every opportunity. Most importantly, I only want you, brat. I just want you.”

  I think what I’ve said to her is romantic, and what the average woman wants to hear, in a sense . . . but as her flesh strikes me against the face I know I’ve fucked up somewhere. “Is that a joke? You’d honestly say such things when you threw me out of the house?! You only wanted me and yet you brought Ivana back as your little slut, trying to make her into this fucking copy of me? What in the world!” She bellows, screaming at me even though we’re not even a foot away from the other.

  “Uh-oh, trouble in paradise.” Stefan chuckles from twenty or so feet away.

  I whip my face in his direction, “Shut the fuck up, Dalca.”

  I don’t know what Elena wants from me. I thought what I said was okay, but it obviously isn’t. She turns and begins walking to the front doors of the house. Her heels clicking against the wooden floors, until she stops, and looks right at me. “Even after all this time, you still don’t understand the magnitude of everything you did to me. I need you to understand it, Luca. More importantly, I know I’m not a good person but at least I own it. I own every bit of who I am, the things I’ve done. Maybe if you’re going to Hell, you need to own it. Quite frankly, I’m not your little kink slut. I’m your wife, and it’s about damn time you start treating me like it. Until then, I have nothing left to say to you.”

  Elena goes through the double doors and they shut behind her, leaving me in awe. I never expected her to confront me in such a manner and it only makes my desire for her grow even more.

  “Fuck, I don’t think there’s any fixing that.” Stefan adds, but I don’t give a fuck about what he has to say.

  I rush after Elena, charging through the double doors and see her about to get into one of the cars waiting outside. “Wait!” I yell, causing her to stop in her tracks and look back to me.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done, and if I’ve made you feel like I don’t understand everything I put you through. I’m an bastard who has his head stuck up his ass. Honestly, I don’t deserve you. Fuck, I don’t deserve anyone like you,” As I continue speaking the cloud turns a stone gray color and rain starts pouring down, but I won’t stop now. I need to get this off my chest, and most of all, I need to make sure I don’t lose her again. “I told her I loved you. That’s why she ended up where she is, because I love you. So please, for the love of God, come home with me Elena. It’s where you belong. Not in the oubliette, but in bed with me, by my side, being my partner. I’ve never loved a woman before, besides . . . well, you know, so I don’t know if what I feel is love or not. I don’t fucking know.”

  Elena’s hair is drenched and I’m soaked from head to toe, but I couldn’t care less. I spoke my truth and hopefully she won’t walk away. “Get in the fucking car, Luca.” Elena grumbles, sliding inside to shield her from the rain.

  I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I have a good feeling.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Elena

  When Luca got in the car I told him I needed some time to think. Essentially, I needed to process everything he said to me and we’d talk later this evening when we got home with a glass of wine. Wine was mandatory, because I knew then I’d need some liquid courage to get me through this conversation.

  “Meet me in my study when you’re ready,” Luca states the second we get through the door. He starts to head toward the stairwell, but stops when I speak.

  “Would you like a glass of wine?”

  Shaking his head, he replies. “No, I have Țuică in my office.” And continues up the stairs. Țuică is a lot like wine, usually made from plums, but I prefer non-Romanian alcoholic drinks. A dry red would be amazing right now and I’m praying something is in the kitchen.

  I head through the house and walk into the kitchen, seeing Migual is there preparing some sort of dish. “You’re cooking awfully late,” I say.

  “Yes, well, I did get hungry. I’m pleasantly surprised your back. I was worried you’d scurry off and make him lick his wounds a bit before you came back home for good.”

  “I think Luca has been licking his wounds for a very long time, even before me.” I state, knowing Migual must have some knowledge of his past. Migual grows quiet but that’s an indication to me that he understands and agrees.

  Walking over to the wine rack, I pull a bottle of red and start shuffling through the drawers for a corkscrew. “Allow me,” Migual says, pulling one from the drawer beside him. He leaves his food cooking on the stove, stabs the sharp end of the corkscrew through the cork and turns the tool until he’s opened the bottle for me.

  “He has glasses in his office, yes?”

  “Yes, he has plenty.” Migual replies, so I start to walk off.

  “Migual, thank you for always being so welcoming to me.”

  “No need for thanks. I suppose I should thank you for not hating me for following orders.”

  “You weren’t that bad to me, and . . . you’ve always been good to Luca. You’re a great friend to him, and I hope you know how much he cherishes you.”

  Migual smiles softly and heads back over to his food. Meanwhile, I head up the stairs and go straight into Luca’s office. He’s at his makeshift bar, pouring the Țuică and plops two ice cubes into it. I hand the bottle of wine off to him when I arrive at the bar, and he pours me a drink. “Would you like ice?”

  “God, no.” I snap, laughing at how sassy I just was.

  Luca smirks, bringing his glass with him while we go out through his doorway onto the porch and overlook the ocean. He doesn’t have any lights to illuminate the balcony, but the lights from his office shine through the window. I walk up to the railing, sipping on my wine and listen to the sounds of the waves crashing onto the beach mixed with the sounds of birds flying in the air.

  “I have conditions.”

  “Conditions?” He inquires.

  “Yes, if you want me to stay here, if you want to stay married.”

  “Of course I want that,” He’s quick to respond, taking my hand in his own. “You know, I haven’t been sure of much in my life, but I’m sure of this.”

  “Great, I’m glad to hear that. It means you won’t have any problem with my conditions.” I reply in a bossy tone.

  He chuckles, “I don’t even know what these conditions are.”

  “Well, if you’d shut up for a moment you’d know. Wouldn’t you?”

  Luca gives
me an aggravated look, so I continue.

  “I don’t want to live in the oubliette. I’m fine if we go down there for . . . some pleasurable activities, but when I was there you viewed me as being below you. In a marriage no one is above the other. We are equals. We are partners. That being said, I will be in your bed every night and you won’t step out in our marriage. We are committed to the other, completely. And Luca, I know you’re not sure if you love me, because you’ve never really been in love . . . but, promise me something, alright?”

  “Anything,” He’s quick to say.

  “Don’t tell me you love me, until you’re a hundred percent sure.”

  “How will I know?”

  “It will feel natural, like you have to scream it from the rooftops. So, Luca Ungur, I need to tell you something.”

  Luca furrows his brows, running his thumb over the back of my hand. “What is it?”

  “I love you,”

  “I don’t deserve you’re love. I’m nothing but a beast,”

  “Yes, you are, but you’re my beast.”

  “And you’re my brat, I hope.”

  I nod, grabbing onto his tie I pull him closer to me and whisper against his lips before kissing him. “Yes, I am.”

  Epilogue

  Blanka

  I look out onto the cloudy sea green water through my window, watching the tourists in the small boats taking in everything that is Venice. While the water is cloudy, it’s a clear day and I can see the homes and churches across the vast distance.

  It’s early and for some odd reason I awoke after five in the morning. It’s now seven, although, I have a gut feeling signaling me that something is wrong. I’ve always been like this, feeling odd before something happened. I sip on my espresso that I made in my room earlier, continuing to stare out at the view people would literally kill for. That is, until my phone begins to vibrate on my dresser.

  I turn and walk over to it, not recognizing the number and pick it up. “Hello?” I answer in English, figuring it’s the best course of action.

  “Hello little white one,” Immediately I know the voice, an old friend who I haven’t seen in years. In Czech my name means ‘small white one’, and so my sister Regina, and one of our friends Galina would call me it. Almost like Galina was another older sister of mine.

  “Galina, where are you?” I switch to Czech.

  “I’m in Venice, silly. I’m hoping you’d be available for coffee. You don’t have clients this early, right?” She giggles, poking fun at my job but I pay her no mind. Almost everyone who knows what I do makes fun of me or bullies me about it in some way. But it pays my bills and gives me a good life, so I won’t complain.

  “Sure, there’s a café a few blocks away. Would you like to meet there?” I ask her, getting a reply that she’d love to meet and for me to text her the information. I text her quickly and we agree to meet in half an hour. Meanwhile, I hop in the shower, blow dry my hair and put on a little bit of makeup.

  Galina has known me since I was a little girl. My sister actually introduced us. We grew up in Prague. A very poor part of Prague I should add, and the four of us became good friends. The fourth one is Galina’s younger sister, Ivana.

  My phone buzzes again and I see another text from Galina, telling me that she looks forward to seeing me but she wants to know if I can put in a good word with my boss because she needs work, a place to sleep, and she’s pretty much homeless.

  If she’s homeless . . . then how does she have a cell phone? So, I ask her, and she replies this is the last month she’ll get service. I guess that makes sense. Galina is like family to me, so I do something I wouldn’t normally do and ask her to send me a photo. When we were younger we had to do what I do now. It was either, fuck anyone who was willing to pay, or starve.

  She sends me a photo and thank goodness she still has her striking good looks. I’m also thanking the heavens above that Regina wasn’t the one who decided to run back into my life. Regina and I have a tumultuous relationship at best. Now, Galina is a lot like Regina . . . but Galina has always had a better head on her shoulders.

  I finish getting ready to leave and decide to stop downstairs in my Madame, Cecilia Bianchi’s, office. “Belladonna, what can I do for you?” Cecilia asks, looking over paperwork. She calls me by my stage name of sorts, the name that all the clients call me.

  “I have a girl who’s looking for work. She’s beautiful and she’s been in this type of work before.”

  “Hmmpf,” She mutters, continuing to do what she’s doing.

  “Her name is Galina and she’s a year older than me. She’s from the Czech Republic.” Cecilia’s eyebrows raise up, and now I see she’s interested. Bingo.

  “You could’ve started with that, girl. We’ve been looking for more Northern European girls, and I need Kenyan’s too. The men love when you girls tag team, dark and white chocolate, il meglio del meglio,” After being in Italy for five years, I’ve learned a bit of the language. Cecilia wants the best of the best, and she believes the combination is just that. I take a few steps closer to her, and show her the picture Galina sent me. “Ah, yes, bring her in. I have a few clients who would love a woman like this. But you tell her the rules, Belladonna.”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll bring her back with me in a bit.”

  “Alright, don’t be too long. You have to meet one of your new clients tonight.” Cecilia so graciously reminds me. This new guy is one who will come here to the brothel. We have a few men like that, but others prefer we meet them wherever is convenient with their schedules.

  I quickly leave Cecilia’s office and walk the few blocks so I can meet Galina on time, and run into her outside on the street. We both walk up to one another, embracing after not seeing each other in years. “I spoke to my boss and she will hire you,” I state, making sure I speak in code and don’t go into too much detail. You never know who’s listening. “Let’s go to the back of the café so I can speak to you in more detail.” I suggest, leading her toward the back of the restaurant, ensuring we speak in Czech.

  “So, I’m going to give you a rundown of the rules,” I say as we take a seat and wait for a waiter to come up and take our order. “You can’t start fights with the other women. You can’t take drugs, have a boyfriend or girlfriend. No side swiping Cecilia and trying to start your own business. No families. You have to honor your contract and be taking birth control. The schedule is as such, you work four weeks straight and you’re off one week. And if you get pregnant, your contract will be extended for another year.”

  “Okay, this is easy to follow. Do you have regulars or anything?” She asks.

  I nod, “You can, but our boss will always mix up clientele so you don’t fall in love with them. She doesn’t like us just seeing one person, especially if we have a lot of time left on our contracts. One girl fell in love with a john, and had a baby. The woman had her contract extended and the baby will be given to its father after it’s born. Cecilia has made it clear to the man that after the other year is honored, then he can have the mother.”

  “Wow. She sounds cold.”

  “She is, which is why you shouldn’t cross her.”

  “Noted.”

  “Hello ladies, would you like something to eat?”

  “Yes, please. I’m starved.” I state, hoping the rest of this conversation can be used getting caught up. I still have that odd feeling that I can’t shake, and hopefully I figure it out before whatever it is slaps me across the face.

  Next Up

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