Julian's Torment (Mafia Heirs 3)

I rub my temples without so much as giving her another look. “You should go.”

“I-I don’t know how to get to the dorms from here,” she manages.

“Fucking useless,” I mutter, shaking my head at her trembling form. “I’ll fucking walk you, I guess.

You got a coat or something?”

“N-No.”

I usher her out of the house. Outside, it’s fucking freezing, and I actually feel a little sorry for her as she shivers in the chilly night air. If it were a date of mine, I’d offer her my coat, but there’s no fucking way I’m doing that for Francesca. She doesn’t deserve it.

We walk in silence across campus to the dorms.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” she finally says, and I mentally congratulate myself for making her speak first.

“What would I say?” I hiss. “You wormed your way into the university somehow, even though you shouldn’t be here at all. What do you want, for me to fucking congratulate you?”

“No,” she snaps. “But some acknowledgement would be nice. You act like we don’t even know each other.”

“Do we?” I give her a long hard look, and she’s the first to look away and flush. Fucking good. “I don’t know what you want from me, Francesca.”

“Some protection from your gross friends would be nice.”

“Marco’s not my friend,” I mutter on instinct.

“Well, he sure seems to think he is,” she spits out, shivering as she totters in those heels behind me.

“I’m fucking cold. This night was another disaster. I wish I could just go back home.”

“You don’t need to be such a drama queen. Here, just quit your fucking whining.”

I slip the military coat off my shoulders and drape it around her before motioning to her handcuffs.

“You got a key for those?”

“No,” she mutters miserably. “It’s probably somewhere in the dorms. Dio knows how I’m going to get out of them.”

The thought of her helpless and restrained is actually a little hot, not that I’d ever admit it to her. At least her teeth aren’t chattering anymore now that she’s got my coat on.

““We’re here,” I mutter once we come to a stop in front of the building. “Get the fuck inside. And stay out of my way here, Francesca.”

“As if I’m willingly crossing your path,” she spits out venomously. “If it were up to me, we wouldn’t see each other ever again. Don’t you think you’ve hurt me enough?”

“Hurt you enough?” I let out a cruel laugh. “No, I think you deserve to be hurt a lot more for everything you’ve done.”

“What have I done to you that was so terrible, Julian?” she hisses. “Fine, I’ll admit I wasn’t very nice when we first met, but –”

“Wasn’t very nice?” I repeat in disbelief. “You treated me like trash, Francesca.”

“Well, I made up for it, didn’t I?” She glares at me defiantly. “I was good to you, too.”

I groan, rubbing my temples. “None of that shit matters.”

“Why not?”

“You know why not.”

“Actually, I don’t,” she admits. “I still don’t understand why you did what you did. The only explanation is that you just hate me and wanted to get back at me for that first party where you were working as a servant. And in that case… you went to really great lengths to hurt me. And that’s vicious.”

“Think what you want,” I mutter. “I don’t give a shit. Bye, Francesca.”

“Wait,” she calls out after me, and I reluctantly stop in my tracks. “Please, I promise I won’t ask you for any more favors. Just help me get the cuffs off.”

I know full well I should deny her, but for some fucked up reason, I can’t help myself around Francesca Esposito. With a heavy groan, I follow her into the dorm building.

10

FRANCESCA

“Anyone around?” Julian asks.

I shake my head, checking to make sure we’re alone. He pulls a key out of his pocket and easily unlocks the door leading into the handyman’s room.

“Has everyone got master keys at this place?” I mutter in disbelief.

“Stop fucking babbling and come in here.”

I follow him into the storage rooms. I close the door behind me and sit miserably at the handyman’s desk while Julian heads over to a large locker in the corner.

“They keep all the confiscated shit here,” he mutters. “I’m sure I saw a pair of handcuffs here like the ones you’re wearing, and they had the key attached.”

“Thanks for helping me,” I mutter.

“Wow, an actual thank you,” Julian says, throwing me a look as he digs through the drawers. “Never thought I’d see the day Francesca fucking Esposito was actually thankful for something.” “You really think I’m some awful, horrible monster, don’t you?”

“Aren’t you?”

“No, I’ve changed a lot,” I mutter just as he pulls out those handcuffs he was talking about.

He approaches me and tries the key in the lock of my cuffs. Luckily, they open and I exhale with relief, rubbing my wrists as Julian removes the handcuffs from my skin. Underneath them, my skin is reddened and sore.