Chapter 6

• •DOMINIC•
• Despite Teodoro and I owning and running separate businesses although I was to be his heir, he still somehow always found a way to drag me into his.
• Looking at the Russian con man disguised as a businessman interested in dealing with Teodoro had me wondering why my father would want to deal with such a sick joke of a man, cracking dry jokes one after the other.
• I'd gotten flat-out irritated by him in the first line of our conversation. He'd shoot him dead on the spot with no hesitation.
• "Mr. Petrov," I cleared my throat, interrupting his hundredth meaningless gibber, leaning forward with my jaw clenched. "Do I need to remind you of who am I and what I'm capable of doing for every second of my time you've wasted going around in circles?"
• The skinny Russian man flashed me a nervous toothy grin, adjusting the watch on his wrist impatiently before lifting his eyes back to me. "Patience, Mr. Bernardi," he beseeched, "just have a little bit more patience while the paperwork is getting finalised."
• I was beginning to doubt there was any paperwork or business deal, to begin with. His actions were too suspicious and the way he was beginning to chew on his words and spit them out nervously told me there was more to this fiasco than he was letting on.
• "In a fucking club?" I asked, gritting my teeth as I felt every shred of patience within me snap.
• The location of the deal itself was odd, but then this was Teodoro's business. Anything was possible and if his deal needed to be closed, it had to be done his style. I just didn't have the patience to keep up with the circus show and he'd have to deal with it himself.
• "Where entertainment and refreshments are plenty," the Russian man chortled desperately, clapping his hands enthusiastically as an invitatory gesture to someone downstairs.
• With a heavy sigh of irritation, I collapsed back into the couch, leaning my back into it and running my hand through my hair.
• I could be doing so many productive things right now mostly to do with this stimulating addition to my daily life.
• I had a wife and she was fucking gorgeous, young and innocent. I had no fucking idea how she managed to do it in less than twenty-four hours, but I already felt certain palpable urges pushing my sanity to a dangerously pitched edge.
• Fuck.
• Just thinking about her reminded me of how every second of my fingertips on her skin had felt, cupping her face, tucking her hair behind her ear, inhaling her sweet feminine scent and breathing onto her skin.
• The expansion and constriction in my chest was unfamiliar, blood and adrenaline pumping madly hot into my veins, especially those connected to the hardest parts to tame.
• Fuck. Fuck. Fuckery.
• I grabbed my glass of wine, gulping the rest of the white scorching liquid down my throat with my eyes shut. Even that was a fucking terrible idea because all I could see were those innocent striking green eyes meeting mine every time I stole a glance at her.
• I was fucked deeply and the worst part was I was allowing it to happen despite the commendable restraint I'd practised and mastered over the years.
• The music downstairs on the dancefloor seemed to grow louder, the cheering wilder. I peeled my eyes open, placing the wine glass back onto the table at the centre.
• I could see people begin to climb upstairs to the private floor's main lounging area where we sat, some holding trays of assorted food and some wine. They were all notably women, semi-naked women with an almost obvious intent.
• I watched with slightly knitted brows as the wine and food trays were placed down on the table by two women in slinky mini dresses before each plopped onto the couch on either side of the Russian dealer.
• He looked at me with a suggestive grin before sitting back in his couch. I watched with a fully cocked brow as the redhead to his right put her hand over the zipper of his pants, rubbing her hand up and down while making eye contact with him.
• The other woman to his left with dark hair acted next, cupping his face and beginning a full-fledged make-out session with him as he alternated between the two women.
• The disrespect was shocking and utterly grovelling for my negative attention.
• I sprung onto my feet, hot anger boiling deep inside me as lurched at him, grabbing him by his collar and lifting him gruffly onto his feet.
• "You're so deeply fucked I feel bad for you," I grunted through gritted teeth in his face before pushing him back onto the couch between the two panicking women.
• I angrily grabbed my jacket, storming away from the lounging area with my fist tightly clenched. The number of productive things I could have used that precious half an hour for were too painful to even think of.
• I could see a woman wearing a slinky black mini dress with a zipper running from her extreme cleavage to where her dress ended way above her knees and strappy high heels waiting for me by the staircase with her hair held up into a high ponytail.
• She kept her eyes on me, pulling the zipper all the way down, exposing the three-piece lacy lingerie she wore beneath her outfit.
• Seductive as her intentions were, I didn't feel stimulated or triggered sexually in any way. The only trigger she stimulated in me was that of extra fury and major disrespect for having my dignity trampled on so ruthlessly.
• "Babe, you-"
• "I'm fucking married!" I growled, lurching her hand off my chest and cautiously pushing her out of my way.
• I descended the stairs swiftly, my mind far away from this place. I was a married man now and I had a wife waiting for me at home.
• Even if we weren't in love with each other and barely knew each other beyond our names and family scores, there was still some level of respect she deserved from me as I expected of her.
• What the fuck was I even doing in this place?
• I weaved my way past sweaty grinding bodies, the loud music blasting in my ears irritably. This wasn't my type of crowd.
• I made it to the exit with a few minor accidents of women throwing themselves at me and earning my aggressive attitude.
• Walking past the doors, an umbrella was held above my head by my personal bodyguard, Liam, who I travelled with most of the time, as I made my way straight into the car and the chauffeur drove off.
• By then, it was raining torrentially and the chauffeur had to be extra cautious driving, delaying the trip back to the villa even more.
• I adjusted the Rolex watch on my wrist impatiently, checking the time. It was just a few minutes past seven and I could still make it on time for dinner.
• I prayed Sofia was okay and hadn't fallen asleep. I wanted to talk to her and hear more of her voice. I couldn't quite place what it was about her, but there was just something extremely serene about her presence. I needed that serenity around me, triggering as it was.
• It took roughly ten minutes to get to the villa and I exited the car, striding towards the main entrance. Two bodyguards stood there in black suits, my presence seemingly inducing panic and confusion in their eyes.
• "What the fuck are you doing standing there?" I barked, looking from one to the other, surprised by how they stood still, blocking my way. "Fucking move before I lose my shit."
• They remained standing like statues, before simultaneously tilting their heads to look at each other as if they didn't understand what I'd just said.
• Liam took a step forward to intervene but stopped dead in his tracks when someone inside the villa belted a bloodcurdling scream that made my heart stop beating for a second before adrenaline flooded my bloodstream at full pelt.
• Sofia.
• Fuck me.
• I gruffly pulled the bodyguards apart roughly, each falling on either of my sides before I stormed into the building, shouting her name.
• "Sofia!" I shouted, following the sound of her screams, pain, helplessness and fear evident.
• I'd never felt so much panic and urgency, running up the stairs with my heart beating like a drum in my chest, threatening to leap out any second.
• There was so much struggling, breakage of things and her screams grew muffled.
• Shit.
• I'd fucking murder someone.
• I burst into her bedroom, glazing my eyes across the room hurriedly before following Sofia's pained screams into the en suite bathroom.
• Kicking the door open with my foot, I stormed inside. "Sofia!"
• My blood instantly ran cold.
• The shower cubicle was glass was steamy, water splashing and spilling onto the floor. I could see three figures inside, Sofia undoubtedly the one in the corner, swinging a broken showerhead back and forth between the two men pinning her against the wall as she kicked her feet powerfully.
• Who the fuck were they and how had they gotten past security?
• I ran towards the cubicle, flinching away when a glass fell over, one of the two naked bastards falling through on his side with a loud groan.
• Sofia's screaming continued as she slumped onto the floor, grabbing a bottle of shampoo and squeezing the scented liquid in the face of the other man trying to grab her, blinding him as he began furiously cursing at her.
• I jumped in through the shattered glass, grabbing the unfamiliar man by the back of his head and colliding his face roughly with the wall. I couldn't even properly see with all the steam clouding the room and hot water splashing everywhere from the broken faucet.
• Sofia disappeared out of the cubicle, sobbing miserably as she grabbed a towel from the towel rack, loosely wrapping it around her body and escaping from the room.
• I wanted to follow after her so badly, hold her and calm her down, but with two menaces thinking they could gang up against me and win after assaulting my wife and nearly committing a grave atrocity against her that'd instantly turn me into a murderer, I couldn't.
• I felt extra strength seep into my bones as the man who'd fallen stood up, grabbing me by my arm with his other fist clenched.
• It didn't take seconds to drag his bloody ass inside the slippery cubicle, colliding his face roughly with his colleagues before grabbing them both by their collars.
• I was completely drenched in seconds, stepping on a bloody floor from their nose bleeds.
• "Your father-"
• Fuck.
• I'd never punched anyone so hard in my entire life, my knuckles stabbing with counteractive pain. I didn't know my blow was that strong until the guy I'd hit slumped against the wall onto the floor, falling unconscious instantly with water washing down the blood on his face and on my knuckle.
• I looked over at the other guy as he slowly backed away. Pussy.
• I wrapped my hand around his neck, looking into his horror-filled eyes. Sofia looked ten times horrified. How dare he?
• "I was just doing m-my job," he stuttered.
• "Assaulting someone's daughter, sister and my wife?" I fumed before punching him straight into unconsciousness.
• I needed them both alive for befitting punishment hence the lenience.
• I walked out of the broken cubicle, water dripping from my clothes.
• "Sir-" Liam faltered, following me out the door as I lifted my hand.
• "You know what to do with that disgusting mess," I said to him. "You're in charge of security tonight and tomorrow morning, we leave this fucking hell hole. Make arrangements."
• "Right away, Sir," Liam responded.
• I made my way out of the room, clenching my fist hard and trying to calm myself.
• It all made sense now, Teodoro's insistence on our honeymoon location and personally handling everything including security. He fucking planned it. This was the first night gift he so pompously spoke of and I stupidly fell for it.
• Fuck.
• Being cold to Sofia was one thing, but expecting me to fucking sit still and watch paid assholes defile her was an obnoxious expectation.
• Screw him and his plan. He was an evil man with wicked double standards. He'd slaughtered people alive when something similar happened to his daughter. How could he do that to someone else's?
• What would I even say to her? How would I comfort her when I was the son of the man who'd ordered the attack on her? Why the fuck did my life have to be so difficult every fucking time?
• I followed Sofia's muffled sobs down the hallway, searching for her. I needed to be there for her, to fucking do something to take away her pain. Anything
• I reached the door at the far end of the hallway, the sobs tearing through her chest becoming louder and deeply agony-filled. "Sofia," I called out, putting my hand on the doorknob. "I'm coming in."
• "No!" she screamed hysterically. "Stay away from me!"
• Something shattered loudly and her crying grew louder. I could hear her gnash her teeth and I could feel the pain and fear in her voice. She was shivering and breaking things. She fucking needed someone to be there for her.
• "Sofia!" I shouted, twisting the doorknob and banging my fist against the door when I realised it was locked. "Please, let me! Don't fucking hurt yourself!"
• She wasn't listening. I only grew impatient, deeply desiring to be there for her. I fucking cared and wished I could show her. I fucking wanted to be there for her.
• "Sofia, open the goddamn door!" I banged loudly, concern lacing my voice. "I need to hold you. Please."
• Fuck.
• I threw myself against the door, trying to break it down.
• "Don't come in!" she cried over the loud thunder roaring. "Please, please," she begged, her voice becoming feeble, "don't come in."
• The desperation in her cracking voice broke my heart. She was scared-of me.
• Of course, she was fucking scared. I was a man she barely knew with the potential of hurting her. She was bound to shield and protect herself from me with everything she had to keep her sanity.
• I moved away from the door, kicking the wall furiously and hammering it with my clenched fist.
• I didn't know what to do. I wanted to be in there with her, but at the same time, I didn't want to make things worse. I didn't want to hurt her more with my presence.
• I turned back to the door, my clenched fist trembling as I pressed my forehead into the door. "Sofia," I whispered, my insides shattering. "You're in pain and I'm so sorry. I want to be there for you, but I don't know how to and hope you know I fucking care about you and your safety. It's okay if you don't want to see me. Do what you need to do but please, just-just don't hurt yourself, I'm begging you."
• I paused, taking a deep breath and thinking of the right words to say at this moment. I'd never done it before. I was afraid I'd say the wrong thing and make things worse, but something told me I had to keep going. She wasn't breaking things anymore and had grown quiet.
• "When I said I'd never hurt you, I meant it. You're my wife, Sofia, and I'm not going to hurt or leave you. I'll be standing right here, waiting for you. You can come out whenever you're ready and I promise we'll fix this. Just tell me what you need me to do."
• Sofia didn't say anything, but I could hear her slowly move closer to the door, her breathing calming. I waited patiently for her to say or do something, giving her the space and time she needed.
• I wished I was better at showing emotions and being compassionate. Maybe that way she'd understand my words were sincere.
• "I'm scared," she finally spoke so close to the door I could almost feel her presence without the door standing as a barrier between us. "I'm so scared I think I'm gonna lose my mind."
• "I know, but you don't have to be," I breathed, putting my palm flat against the door as though I could hold her hand. "I'm right here. I won't let anyone hurt you."
• "I can't let you in," she cried softly. "I'm sorry," her voice cracked.
• "Sofia," I called her name softly. "I understand. Whenever you're ready, come out and we'll figure things out, okay?"
• "Don't leave me alone," she begged, her voice trembling. "Please."
• "I'm right here," I assured her sincerely, "and I'm not leaving you. I promise."
• I meant every word henceforth.