Chapter 7

• LUCA
• I had just embarrassed myself in the presence of Lily. She saw my weakness and shame, something I so desperately guard.
• After the embarrassing moment at my penthouse, I dropped Lily off without saying a word to her, not even goodbye. I have locked myself in my house the whole day wallowing in self pity. It's getting dark and although I have a business meeting with Smith, I don't plan on leaving my mansion let alone going to where Lily lives.
• Sinking deeper into the bubble bath, I vigorously scrub my body to wash off the pain. The guilt. The hurt. But no matter how I try, these things will always be part of me. The pain of watching my father abused my mother for so many years. The guilt of letting him kill her. If only I had done something...
• The guilt of my mother's death is eating me alive.
• I scrub harder against my skin. I don't care if my flesh tear off from my bone, maybe that's exactly what I want. The voices in my head are growing louder, taunting me.
• 'They are all the same.'
• 'The same blood flows in their vein.'
• 'It's just a matter of time, like his father and brothers, his bad blood will start to spill.'
• "No!" I scream and continue scrubbing. Harder. Harder. Harder. I don't want to be like the other males in my family.
• But maybe they are right. Maybe I've ended up like my father. An abuser. A murderer. Always angry at the world. Only difference is that I'm not a church rat like him.
• I stretch my right hand to the glass stool beside the tub, lifting the half filled vodka bottle. It slips from my hand and connects with the marbled floor producing a clink sound. Broken pieces liter the floor.
• Warily, I step out of the tub not bothering to check the mess, a tiny broken glass pierce into my hindfoot. I don't react. I don't wince in pain. It's almost as if I don't feel it. But I feel it, like a scratchy thing on my feet. It's just that I don't acknowledge the pain. After all, the pain is nothing like what I have endured for 24 years of my life.
• I keep walking out of the bathroom and into my bedroom. Standing infront the mirror, I stare at my reflection. Using my index finger, I trace the deep scar sitting just above my ear - an attempt by my deadbeat dad in cutting off my ear. I turn slightly so that I can see the backside reflection of my right shoulder. Using my finger again, I trace the fireburn. My eyes drop to the point on my thigh, there lies yet another scar courtesy of my father. I tried fighting him when I was old enough. I taught I was old enough... He said I was weak. A weak pussy.
• I will find you father and I will make sure you pay for everything you made me suffer.
• I move over to my closet. I remove a black hoodie and black shorts to wear. My first thought is to sit by the window overlooking the Smith's mansion but just staring at it, is a taunting reminder of everything I lack. Family. Love. Happiness. And peace. But I sit there regardless. I'm pathetic.
• Drawing down the curtain with one hand, I light a cigar with the other, inhaling the smoke and exhaling perfect smoke rings. I feel so miserable right now. I need someone to transfer all the pain and mystery to. I decide to text Mr Craig, the manager of the brothel that supplies sluts to me.
• Luca: I need a slut who has absolutely no respect for her body.
• Craig: Any specific description?
• Luca: Must be shameless and well experienced. And willing to do anything I demand no matter how depraved. I'm talking broken bottles, chains, whips, hot rods, drugs, 5 hours of wild pleasure.
• Craig: Noted.
• Luca: I need two men. Ruthless, angry men who can kill for nothing.
• The bubbles starts jumping on the screen indicating that Craig is typing. It stops and starts again. I know what he's about to type. He's thinking of the most respectful way to call me insane and remind me of how important the lives of his employees are but he certainly knows how mad I will get. I dodn't wait for his reply, I send another text.
• Luca: Don't you have medical facilities to treat your employees? Don't I pay them? Don't I pay you enough?
• When Smith found me, my ass was torn and licking. Did anybody treat me? While I was abused for three years, did anybody pay me? All the drugs and substances that were inserted into my body, did anybody care? If not for Smith's kindness.
• I owe him my life.
• I don't bother texting Craig again, I know my last message is enough to have him restless until my order arrive. The scene of the five hour dark threesome I'm about to watch fills my mind. A malevolent smile curves my lips. I'm sick. Really sick.
• A rasp knock on my front door jolts me back to reality. I discard the cigar. Leisurely lifting my body from the chair and slowly dragging my feet against the floor I walk towards the door and open it.
• And for all the torment I'm going through right now, the last person I want to see is Lily clad in a blue ripped shorts, black crop, shining blonde ponytail, and a beautiful smile that's always clued to her lips.
• "Why are you here?"
• "You promised to take me to the party, remember?"
• I don't hide the annoyance in my voice. "What party?"
• She throws her hands in the air. "The wild party at the wild club."
• "Oh...I totally forgot. I'm already preoccupied." I say and turn around to slam the door in her face but she stops me by pushing her feet forward. "You made a promise, you have to keep your promise."
• "I'm not a gentleman. I don't have to keep my promise." I rake my fingers through my brown hair. "Lily you shouldn't..."
• She takes another step forward. I can breathe in her feminine scent. "There's something else we need to talk about."
• "What?"
• "The kiss."
• My eyes drop to her lips and I remember how sweet it tasted. I want to kiss her again. I want her to get out of my space. Her scent is filling my nostrils and my brain making it impossible for me to think. "What kiss?"
• A frown turns down her lips. "The kiss we shared in your penthouse." She snaps in annoyance. "When we kissed it felt so..." She pause and her eyes are closed. I know she's thinking of a romantic way to describe our kiss. Or maybe a terrible way to describe it.
• I have to shun her. "Wrong." Her eyes and mouth flies open, maybe she didn't hear me.
• I repeat myself. "The kiss felt wrong. It was a mistake, a bad mistake that should never happen again. We were playing a silly game and we kissed. It's nothing."
• Her shoulder fall and sadness envelopes her. "That was my first kiss."
• Okay. Did I say something wrong?
• I shrug. "I felt nothing."
• She press her lips in and sniffs.
• Is she about to cry?
• She stare at her feet for a long wasting my time, before slowly raising her eyes to meet mine. "I-I know." Her voice is shaky. "This doesn't change anything right? Can we still be cool, like we've always been. Please." She's breathing heavily.
• I don't understand our relationship or whatever it is that we have. I nod sadly. "Yes."
• "I will always be your eterna."
• "And I will always be your eterno." I don't know why, but it doesn't sound true. It doesn't sound like we can last forever.
• She leans on me in a warm embrace. I wrap my arms around her waist while she sniffs against my hoodie. I run my left hand from the center of her head down to her spine. I don't want to hug her. I don't want to comfort her.
• I don't want to let her go.
• "So," her voice is muffled as she speaks against my chest. "We're still going to the wild party right?"
• "Are we still on that?"
• "We never left it." She laughs.
• And I never laugh, but the sound of her laughter is so happy and contagious that my throat did a half chuckle. I nearly laughed. Nearly.
• Just like that, Lily has driven away my pains and made me feel light. I'm tempted to think it's happiness, but I know better I can never be happy. I don't deserve happiness.
• Not after everything...