“Lucas.”
I watch as his lips purse, and he tsks me.
“I think it’s best you don’t speak unless asked to.”
Ha.
That’s a no.
I am not that kind of woman.
And I never will be.
“Do you plan to kill me?” Something cold hits me, and a shiver racks my body.
“You’ve asked me that before, mia per sempre.”
I have, but why can I not remember the answer?
“Brody,” I say, stepping back from him. Looking down at my bare feet, I see blood on the floor. “I need to go to Brody.”
“Why?” His single word hits me hard.
“Because he is my brother.”
“But what am I?” His voice rings through the fog in my mind.
I shake my head.
What is Lucas to me? I don’t even know.
How can I not know? He is the only man to have given me pleasure.
Does that count?
One of the only men to defend me who isn’t related to me. He is the only person who sees me. Even in the bad, I know he sees something different in me.
Something I don’t even see.
He’s morally in the gray area.
And I want him.
But at the same time, I don’t.
The internal struggle is next level, and it’s hard to work through the conflict in my mind.
“It wouldn’t be hard if it was simple,” Lucas whispers.
I look up to see my brother standing there. How did…
“This is a dream,” I breathe out, realization hitting me. Lifting my hand to touch the back of my head, I feel wetness. Shifting my hand in front of my eyes, all I see is red—blood.
Lucas’s father, that fucked-up man, who also created another fucked-up human, hit me?
“I wonder, mia per sempre…” He pauses. “Can you wake up?”
Hands that once provided pleasure now push me roughly.