Beast: A Hate Story, The Beginning

Yet another trick I’d fallen for.

But I wouldn’t fall for another one ever again.

He shook his head. “You’ve forgotten, Frankie. I said a few do.”

I laughed coldly. “Ah, right.” He clasped his hand over mine, gently tugging me up from the chair and into his arms. I waited, breath pulled. He’d hardly talked to me since the night before, since I’d lied to him. His deep gaze was utterly unreadable. I wondered if he would punish me.

Then he pushed my hair behind my ear.

“You’re beautiful.”

“I…” I stuttered, gaze flickering from him to the fire. What was going on? I’d been waiting for punishment, for some kind of anger from him after lying about my period, but this was not that. Beast pressed his face into my neck, lips against the skin. I felt the connection deep inside me, shivers ran all through my body, and my teeth tingled like I’d eaten too much sugar.

“Did men tell you that all the time?” he asked, voice hot on my neck. “Did they ever compliment your mind? It’s like a labyrinth, twisted and uncertain, filled with traps that would fell a lesser man. But there are rewards too, and I imagine once you reach the center, the treasure is unparalleled.” At his words it was like a gong hit my gut. One single thought resounded in my body. How unfair that the man who obliterated me entirely is the only one to ever know me so completely.

He licked a trail from my neck to my earlobe. I gripped his shoulders. He bit and tugged at it, pulling the skin between his teeth. “What are your plans for New Year’s?” he whispered the question just below my earlobe.

“Oh I don’t know,” I said, hating how breathless I was. “Probably go out with some friends.” He laughed, a harsh sound in his chest like it didn’t get used often. Like lighting a fire in a fireplace after years of no use. His hand snaked into my hair and he tugged me back slightly so that I could see into his eyes.

Then he kissed me.

Devoured me.

Claimed my mouth in seconds. It was hot and fast and over too soon.

He let me go and I stared up at him, waiting. “When I get home you will be asleep in my bed,” he said, then let go of me completely. Beast walked out of the library and I waited until he’d turned the corner. When I was sure he was gone, I fell into the chair. My limbs were like jelly, I was hot and breathless, and so, so confused.

He’d said to fall asleep in his bed, but when he’d left, it was only the evening. With help from Nikolai, I learned that Beast wouldn’t be back until very late. I finished studying Nautical Knots and headed out of the library.

I took a detour in the kitchen to check for cameras and blind spots. There was something I needed from the kitchen, something that was essential to my plan. I noticed a few black, shiny bugs, but there was at least one way I could get the thing I needed.

Feeling empowered, I headed to my room to read a little bit from Sofia’s journal. Now that I was taking on this role, I felt even more compelled to read her life, as if she could teach me things, prepare me for the role I was about to step into. There were a few pages missing after the last I’d read, the one about Emilio, and I hoped it wouldn’t be too confusing. With my finger on the thin, starchy paper, I read.

When I met Alessio he confirmed what the hushed tones of Mama and Papa had me guessing: a war has started.

My eyes widened at the first line. A war? With a breath, I continued.

The death of Lucio Senior has the Pavoni sons scrambling for the patriarchy, and we are all going to pay the price. I already know this will be different than the Night of the Bleeding Crowns. I can feel it. Even tonight, Alessio has said nothing about us leaving. I brought it up with him but he just changes the subject, says it is not the right time.

I hold my belly, fearful for my unborn child, uncertain how to tell him now.

How do I tell him I am pregnant? How? With everything that is happening?

When Lucio Pavoni Senior and my grandpa, Massimo De Luca, married into the Marchesi family, it was different. It was only one night.

The story goes that the Marchesi family was the richest family in their small Italian town. It was no secret then that the Marchesis were a mafia. In return for his two daughters, Lucio Senior and Massimo would come to work for him.

Instead they killed him. In what is known as the Night of the Bleeding Crowns, both Massimo and Lucio Senior walked into their new father’s home and took his head. They hardly even needed to sneak, as he had welcomed them inside. They took his head and hung it outside the palatial estate, declaring the new regime. It’s after that that the stories change.

There’s the official story, and there’s the story I overheard. The story we all grew up hearing is that my grandpa believed so deeply in the Pavonis he didn’t dare try to take the reign for himself.

But I heard another one. I overheard Grandpa Massimo talking one day. He said he saw the blood pour onto Marchesi’s bed and knew if he attempted to take the reign from Lucio Senior, he would see his own blood one day. He went on to say that he knew that no one could wear a crown without it pricking blood from the head that wore it. Since Grandma was already pregnant, he didn’t want to risk it.

Lucio Pavoni became the Boss, and my grandpa his right hand.

That was only one night. I know this will be different, because this is war. We all will bleed, even those without crowns. If only Alessio would run with me while we still can.

I set the journal down, unable to continue. My fingers rested on the paper and I stared forward, not really looking at anything while Sofia’s words echoed in my skull. We all will bleed, even those without crowns.