Adrian's Vengeance (Mafia Heirs 1)

16

Marzia

When his lips leave mine, my body shivers. I don't want him to stop kissing me, touching me. My body vibrates with the need to feel his hands on my bare skin. But Adrian doesn't succumb as easily to his desires as I do. I watch him walk out on me, unable to fight for his attention. I want to fucking scream, but I fight the urge to let him know how I'm really feeling. I'm already consumed with guilt over what I've done. How easily I gave into his demands... How ready and willing I was for Adrian to take it all.

I never felt this way about Vitto. At most, the thought of my husband-to-be filled me with a bit of hope, but it was always mixed with dread. My whole life, I never once imagined myself married to Vitto Donatti. No, instead I spent a decade fantasizing about the boy I couldn't have. And here he was now, ready to fight for my hand and ready to do anything it took to keep me.

Even if it means keeping me in a cage forever.

When the key turns in the door locking it, I lay on the bed, shaking. My naked body is exposed to the cool air and I'm afraid. Afraid of my connection with my captor, and afraid of what will happen to me if I give in to it.

Tossing and turning for an hour, I finally get back up. I tear a piece of paper from my sketchbook and write a letter to my brother. I tell him being here is hell. I tell him Adrian is a monster. I beg and beg for them to arrange an escape for me, all the while knowing I won't give the letter to Eleanora, because I am too weak to fight my need for Adrian.

Once I'm done, I leave the letter on my nightstand, meaning to tear it up before I fall asleep. I think about Adrian some more. About experiencing what I have with him, how much I still want him. How I'm even more determined to never accept Vitto as my husband.

Then I'm flooded with guilt. He's the reason my family is gone. We've been wiped out. I can never be with the man who caused me to lose everything. How could I forgive myself? My parents never would, and God wouldn't, either.

I fall asleep somewhere in the middle of the night, my dreams plagued by Adrian and his cruel gaze. The two personalities we play around each other couple in new ways, fucking with my mind and turning my nightmares into deep fear that makes me scream out loud.

I shoot up at the sound of my own voice, panicking as I look around the room. I was dreaming. It's all over.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I check the nightstand for the letter I wrote the previous night. It's gone.

A chill washes over me. My first thought is that someone has found the letter, someone who could really hurt me because of it. Adrian or one of the guards.

Only when I see Eleanora smiling at me from the window do I realize it could have been her. "Did you send it already?" This morning I don't need to be convinced to get out of bed. I rush to Eleanora, kneeling before her and digging in the pocket of her uniform. "Oh please, Eleanora, tell me you didn't send the letter..."

She raises her hands. The letter is gone, with a regretful expression she expects me to punish her. She braces for a slap I don't give her.

"It's okay…" I breathe. "I'll just write another note."

I quickly scribble another letter of apology, explaining I was just too emotional earlier and they should hold off on the escape plan. I slip it into Eleanora's apron.

She nods wordlessly, signaling she will get the letter into the right hands.

I take a shower and eat breakfast, doing my best to force more food into my body while the events of the previous night play out in my head. The way Adrian had kissed me... it was pure passion. And I can't fight my own emotions forever. I realize I am waiting with bated breath to see him today. I want him to come into my room with that signature smirk of his.

"Eleanora, where is Adrian?" I ask my maid.

She glances at me nervously before shaking her head.

"What do you mean? Did he leave?"

She nods, offering a sad little smile.

I crumple on the couch. "When is he coming back? Where did he go?" I don't expect an answer. I know she can't speak. But speaking it out loud is helping me calm my nerves.

Deciding I need to stay busy, I prepare another easel. I'm painting myself, like Adrian wanted. I paint myself in a nearly translucent glass chain that leads from a leash around my throat to Adrian's outstretched hand. I draw his tattoos on the backs of his palm in great detail, realizing with a start I don't even know how much of his body those tattoos cover. He's so different from the little boy I met at the docks once. He's all grown up, and out for blood.