I nod absentmindedly, even though my gaze keeps on straying to his form on the floor.
"Before we leave, I want to ask you something," Marcello surprises me by saying.
"What?" I frown.
"Do you really want to take your vows? If you feel in any way that this life isn't for you, you can tell me. I'm worried about your safety here, and Mother Superior won't let me hire a guard for you."
My eyes widen, and I don't know how to answer.
"You... you're saying..." I breathe out slowly, afraid I'm misconstruing his meaning. "You're saying I can leave the convent? But where would I go... I...."
"You can come live with us." Catalina interjects, coming towards me, "we'd love to have you, isn't that so, Marcello?"
My brother nods.
"It's your home too. And you'd be safer there."
"I..." I don't know what to say. I'd never in my wildest dreams dared to believe I would leave this convent. "Yes, yes, please," I answer promptly, happiness bursting in my chest at the thought. "Thank you! I... you do not understand what that means to me."
"Did you not like it here?" He asks, studying me in confusion.
"It's not that," I start, not wanting to sound ungrateful. "I don't think I'm fit to be a nun," I admit, lowering my gaze.
If only they knew just how unfit I am to be a nun....
"I think this is the best option. I've always known Sisi wasn't meant for this life." Catalina agrees, taking my hand in hers.
I'm so happy at the prospect of leaving this dratted place that I barely hear Vlad moving about.
Lina and Marcello gaze back at him, and I turn too, watching as he's slowly rousing from his sleep.
"Damn," he curses. He looks disheveled, yet entirely too appealing. "What happened?"
"I think you've had your fill of blood for today," Marcello adds, and a conspiratorial glance passes between the two of them.
"Sorry about that," he says, looking around the room. His eyes find me and he frowns, tilting his head to the side as if he's seeing something he can't quite explain. Then it's over.
One moment his entire persona seems to be enveloped in darkness and pain, the next his mouth stretches into another fake smile, erasing all traces of his real self.
"I'm glad you're fine," Lina tells him, but I just narrow my eyes at him.
What is his deal exactly?
"So what did I miss?" He smirks, as if he hadn't just endangered my life.
I raise an eyebrow at him, but his smile only widens when he sees my contrite expression.
We finish our business in the church and Marcello lets me know he'll speak to Mother Superior on my behalf and that I can return home with them.
I just plaster on a pleasant smile, not daring to dream about it until it happens.
But it seems this time, the fates are actually on my side.
I try to not show how affected I am by everything that's happening. How the simple fact that I am in a car, driving away from that wretched place is making me feel like I'm on cloud nine. Or how looking out the window at all the passing buildings that are not Sacre Coeur gets me incredibly giddy.
Marcello doesn't know, but he's just given me the gift of a lifetime. I don't know if he really wants me around, or if he thinks I will be an inconvenience, but I plan on doing my best to not cause any problems that might make him regret taking me in.
When we reach his home, I'm blown away by the size of it. More so, the beauty of the architecture inside. Sacre Coeur hadn't lacked in that, but it had been a clinical beauty. It had been a house, not a home.
Suddenly I can see Lina's touches throughout the rooms, and a warmth envelops me.
"I didn't tell you," I lean over to whisper in her ear. "But I'm happy you married my brother," I tell her sincerely.
"Me too," she replies, blushing slightly.
I've always considered Lina and Claudia my family, but now they truly are. And to know we are going to live in the same place again... I can't help but feel a dizzying amount of happiness at the thought.
With a nod, Marcello leaves us to our devices, asking Lina to show me my room.
"Is he always like that?" I frown when we're alone.
"He's..." she purses her lips, "more reserved. But he's been wonderful to me."
"I'm glad," I squeeze her hand in comfort.
She'd told me the circumstances of their marriage and the fact that the Guerras are still a danger to her and Claudia.
To be entirely truthful, I still have a hard time reconciling the fact that our families are involved in organized crime. And that makes me slightly curious about Vlad's connection to the mob, since he seemed to be Marcello's good friend.
Not for the first time since we've left Sacre Coeur, my thoughts stray to that man. Maybe it's because I'm not used to strangers, but his presence had impacted me. I can vividly picture his dark eyes staring at me, his hands on my body...
Shaking my head at the intrusive thoughts, I ground myself in the present.
Lina takes me to a guest room on the second floor, telling me we'd have time to go shopping and decorate it in the future.
I can only nod, since anything is perfect for me. And the room she shows me is bigger than I would have imagined. It's a simple bedroom, with a double bed, a vanity, a wardrobe and a small ensuite. But it's mine.
I'm still rooted to the spot, admiring the room, when Lina taps me on the shoulder, handing me a few clothes.
"We're a similar size, so this should do until we get you more clothes. You can finally get rid of the habit," she says, looking me up and down and scrunching her nose.
I don't even know how to reply as I take the clothes from her. I've never worn anything other than the clothes provided at Sacre Coeur, so this is a new experience for me.
Impatient, I put the clothes on the bed and start pulling at my habit, ready to be rid of it. Lina's lip curls up as she sees my excitement, and she closes the door so I can have some privacy.
Looking through the clothes, I choose a green dress that's not too short nor too long.
"I don't have any bras that would fit you, but we can buy some tomorrow," Lina comments, and I nod, pink staining my cheeks. That's the one area that Lina and I don't match since I've been cursed with huge breasts. Still, it's not like I've worn anything other than a bustier before. Although, looking in the mirror after I've donned the dress, I can see how the form would be more flattering with a bra.
"Wow, I can barely recognize you," she breathes when she sees me. My hair, too, is unbound and flowing down my back.
"It certainly feels different." I keep on looking in the mirror as if I'm seeing myself for the first time.
"You have no idea how happy I am that you're here." Lina leans her head on my shoulder, smiling at me.
"Me too," I reply.
Too happy.
And that makes me slightly afraid. Because now that I've tasted happiness, if it's wrenched away from me, it will kill me.
The day has even more surprises in store as I get to meet my sister, Venezia. My first impression is that we look nothing alike. While Marcello and I may have our coloring in common, since both of us have blonde hair, Venezia's is a soft brown color. Her eyes, too, are a hazel shade compared to my light brown ones.
I keep staring at her, trying to find some commonality, but there's none.
"You're so pretty." I say at some point, overwhelmed by the fact that she looks exactly like a doll.
She blinks twice before a blush creeps up her neck, and she lowers her eyes.
From what Lina had told me, I would have expected her to be bolder and more outspoken, but the Venezia in front of me is shy, second-guessing her every word.
"Thank you," she eventually whispers.
Our conversation is a little stunted, as neither of us can come up with a topic. But we'll have enough time to get to know each other.
"Can I... " she starts, rather nervously, "give you a hug?"
"Of course!" I a
nswer immediately, wasting no time in tugging her into my open arms.
Saying good night to Lina and Claudia, I head to my own room, still in awe that I get to have a space all mine.
How many times have I dreamed about this very thing? Before Lina had come along at Sacre Coeur, I'd been rooming with dozens of other girls. The notion of having something to myself when everything had been shared has always been hard to understand.
Laying my hand on the bed, I trace the contour of the silky sheets, excitement forming inside of me at the thought of sleeping in such luxury.
I quickly shower, drying my skin properly before sliding between the sheets. I sigh deeply, the coolness of the material against my naked skin feeling divine.
His hand wrapped around my throat; he pushes me roughly on the altar. My back hits the cold table, my eyes wide with terror. Swiping aside all the religious paraphernalia, I see a cross falling to the ground, the sound reverberating in the church.
He surveys me from head to toe, his molten gaze sweet yet biting, like a pagan God waiting for his sacrifice, my demise the fuel for his very essence.
"Stop," I whisper as his fingers tighten around my flesh, stopping my airflow. For a moment my breath hitches, and I can only stare at those dark eyes that aim to consume me — body and soul.
His other hand is roaming freely on my body, goosebumps appearing as he trails his fingers up my thigh, until he stops at the curve of my hip, his palm splaying over my waist.
His lips widen in a wicked smile, the first genuine one I'd seen from him. He looks indomitable as he looms over me, my life and death in his control.
I try to struggle against his hold, my hands pushing at his shoulders, but everything I do is in vain. He's too strong, as he has me pinned down with his massive body, and I have to admit that I'm at his mercy.
His mouth moves to my ear as he's whispering some indiscernible sounds, his chokehold slowly becoming a tender caress.
Suddenly his hand is gone. My eyes widen when he starts kissing his way up my neck, my body shuddering with a mixture of fear and curiosity.
"What are you doing?" My voice quivers as I ask.
He doesn't reply. He merely smiles against my skin before his mouth opens up, his teeth lodging into my flesh.
I scream, the pain surreal as he breaks the skin, blood flowing freely from the wound. He laps at it, smearing it all over my neck and up my cheek, his devilish tongue swirling circles on the surface of my skin.
Briefly, he raises his head, a wide smile showing blood stained teeth.
"You're mine. To kill and to..."
I jolt awake, disoriented and covered in sweat. Finding myself in my bed, I look around the empty room, breathing a sigh of relief when I see there's no one around. My hands immediately go around my body, trying to make sure I'm still in one piece. My fingers linger on my neck, finding the skin intact.
A soft tremor goes through my body as I remember the vivid way in which his teeth had felt on me, the sharp pain that had racked my entire being as he'd relentlessly pushed against me.
I'd tried so hard to forget the incident from the church, and now he's haunting my dreams. I must have been more affected by his presence than I'd let myself believe, because there's no other explanation for this.
The wind is blowing outside, the curtain swaying around, in and out of the room. Frowning, I get out of bed to check it.
I'm sure I closed the window before bed.
Feeling slightly paranoid, I lower the window, pulling on the latch so that it's locked in place. Glancing outside, I only see the green expanse of the back yard. No sign of anything or anyone.
Relieved it's only my overactive imagination, I go back to bed. But as I slide between the sheets again, I realize something else. There's a wetness between my legs that wasn't there before. It's accompanied by a low hum in my loins, a tingling almost like an itch. My hand dips low, and I'm shocked to find my fingers coated in a viscous substance. My first thought is that I must have been so scared that I wet the bed. But the texture is entirely different, and for a moment I'm afraid something is wrong with me.
Quickly grabbing my phone, I open the web browser and I search what it means.
The answer, however, doesn't help.
Arousal. Sexual desire.
"Oh, hell no," I mutter to myself as I read through article after article. I can't have been aroused by that... man trying to kill me. I'm almost disgusted with myself for allowing myself to think that, so I power off the phone, placing it on the table.
"It's just residual fear." I try to convince myself.
Sleep barely comes to me, and when I have to wake up in the morning I'm rather cranky. I still have this nagging feeling that Vlad is near and that he will kill me. I know it's such an irrational fear, but somehow I'm convinced that I'll meet my end at his hands.
There's something terrifying about him, just as it is fascinating.
Once again, as I meet up with the girls to go shopping, I can't stop him from taking over my thoughts. It's like everything I do reminds me in a way of him, and of that dream.
His black, bottomless eyes and his searing touch are ingrained in my mind. I only have to close my eyes, and it's like his breath is on my neck, his mouth close to my skin.
"That one looks so good on you, Sisi," Lina says sincerely, and I snap out of it. I blink twice, trying to gain some focus.
"I think so too," I reply, a little too late.
If she notices how distracted I am, she doesn't mention it. We continue shopping, getting everything from clothes to phones and laptops.
Passing by a hair salon, though, an idea comes to me.
"I want to get a fringe," I tell Lina, explaining that having something to cover my forehead would make it easier for me since people wouldn't be staring so much.
She nods thoughtfully. "If that's what you want, then of course."
Lina and Claudia go to get some sweets while I endure the ministrations of the hair stylist. Already, I feel bad as I see my hair gathering on the floor, flashbacks of Cressida's punishments flashing through my head.
It takes everything in me not to bolt. Luckily, the entire thing is over in minutes, and the new look seems to suit me perfectly.
I thank the technician and move to pay.
All the while, my skin prickles with awareness, as if someone's watching me from behind.
Turning rapidly, I see a shadowy shape take refuge behind one of the columns.
I don't even wait for the change, telling them to keep the rest as I run, chasing after whatever's following me.
No one.
There's no one behind the column, or anywhere around it. I stand in the middle of the shopping mall, disoriented as I look around, attempting to pick out whatever phantasm I'd seen.
I'm going crazy.
I didn't lose my mind during my twenty years in that wretched place, but I am now. For God's sake, I used to hang out in a cemetery, and I'd never been scared of ghosts or any other supernatural creature. It seems rather ludicrous to become so paranoid now.
It's all his fault.
"Aunt Sisi," Claudia calls out my name, dashing towards me. Plastering a smile on my face, I pretend that everything is ok.
Once we have everything, we're ready to head back.
I'm already tired, both physically and mentally, and as soon as we get home I excuse myself to my room.
I need a nap.
Hopefully, this time I won't have an uninvited guest in my dreams.
Opening the door to my room, I place the bags on the floor, my hands already on the zipper of my dress.
Out of the sudden, a hand covers my mouth, an arm sneaking around my waist and bringing me into a hard chest.
What?
My first instinct is to try to scream, regardless of the palm pressing against my lips. My limbs start struggling, and I move my head around, trying to kick at whoever is behind me.
"Shhh," a chilling voice whispers in my ear, "we wouldn't
want your brother to find me here."
My heart in my throat, I can only stop moving. My entire body is stiff as I realize just who is behind me, holding me hostage.
Oh, hell. I may die after all.
Chapter Ten
Humming to myself, I open the door to the basement, depositing the tools I'd brought with me on a table.
Vanya is sulking in a corner, and she only gives me one hostile look before turning her head and proceeding to ignore me. She's been doing this for the past few hours, and I have yet to find what caused her displeasure.
Although, I may have one idea.
Focusing on the task at hand, instead, I put that particular topic out of my mind.
"I trust the condition of your lodgings has been to your satisfaction?" I smile at the man currently tied to a chair in the middle of the room. "Wait," I frown. "I forgot you can't talk," I shake my head and in two steps I'm in front of him, taking his gag off and letting him exercise his mouth for a while.
And if he knows what's best for him, he will exercise it right.
"What the hell... Where am I..." he stammers, his eyes wildly assessing the chamber, before settling on me, "and who are you?"
"Mr. Petrovic, I am profoundly offended that you don't know who I am," I drawl, settling on the floor in front of him.
The first round is going to be easy. The next... depending on him.
"How am I supposed to know?" he spits at me.
Shaking my head, I make a tsk sound, gathering the end of my sleeve and folding it up my arm. Holding my hand out for him to see my tattoo, I watch as the entire previous bravado drains from his face.
My reputation, so to speak, is more through word of mouth than solid evidence. I have, after all, retired from the more unsavory part of the business years ago, when I'd realized that my reaction to blood had worsened, making me become too unstable. Instead, I'd taken to polishing a classier image that nonetheless strikes fear in my adversaries.
Although most people don't know what I look like, they do know something—my name and my tattoo that identifies me as the current Pakhan.
Mr. Petrovic should feel honored, indeed, that I am personally tending to him, since my forays into murder or torture are rather limited these days, fact that I'm deeply mourning, since both are the best cure in satisfying my boredom.
Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4) Page 13