Hello Dolls

Cocking her head upwards, she beams at the sight of his thick eyebrows knotted together in feigned annoyance. The twinkle in his dark eyes gives him away as he grins down at her, admiring that tiny dimple that graces the left corner of her mouth whenever she laughs or smirks in mischief. Just as she is doing now. Her waves of dark hair frame her face as they bathe in this rare moment of peace. She giggles and he knows then and there that he’ll never tire of hearing it.

 ‘’Mario, we are absolutely not naming them ‘Brutus,’’ she sits up. His eyes immediately fell upon her proud bump, bare to see in the privacy of their little love nest. Their little miracle, their ‘’little pea’’ as she had recently coined them. Mario had been so eager to find out the sex of ‘’little pea’’, but he could not help but indulge his wife’s wishes of being surprised at the birth. They waited nearly ten years for their little miracle, a few more weeks wouldn’t hurt. It wouldn’t be much longer, he constantly found himself reflecting, only a few short weeks until they would welcome little pea home.

 ‘’What? It’s a classic. It’s a good, strong name for a strong boy,’’ Mario leaned forward, pressing his forehead against his wife’s as she placed his hand against her stomach, maneuvering it around her smooth skin until little pea’s strong legs began kicking against his palm much to their shared delight.

 ‘’Bold of you to assume we’re having a boy,’’ she quirked a brow in amusement, her full lips stretched into that smile that made it hard for Mario to breathe at times.

 ‘’You seem pretty confident we’re not,’’ he retorted, pressing a kiss to her nose.

 She smiled up at her husband, taking in his features. As the years passed by his hair had begun to thin and gray hairs speckled around the sides, although that was most likely due to the stress that accompanied his job rather than age. He was still her Mario, her strong and protective, devoted husband. Her hand cupped his cheek, her thumb stroking his tan skin.

 ‘’After all these years. . .when will you realize I’m never wrong?’’ she sighed, leaning into his embrace as little pea’s kicks settled down into more of a flutter in her stomach.

 Mario scoffed, encompassing his wife in his strong arms as they laid back down on their bed. So many years had they tried for a child, each year filled with bitter disappointment and less and less hopes of ever being a family. Just when they had begun to make their peace with the possibility of never being parents, one tiny pink ‘’+’’ sign changed their lives and filled it with newfound hope.

 ‘’What about Alessia?’’ she pondered, staring up at the ceiling as they curled up to one another.

 A small, genuine smile graced Mario’s lips. He looked down at her, kissing her forehead. ‘’I like it. I like it a lot.’’ She smiled back, sighing as she stretched out her legs, enjoying the feel of her husband’s hands running along her skin.

 ‘’I have been thinking. . .of stepping down as Torricelli’s bodyguard.’’

  He felt her stiffen a bit at the confession. He knew she wasn’t a fan of his line of work. She was aware of the horrors he had witnessed since joining the Torricelli clan. More than on one occasion had she awoken to him having night terrors or had to scrub his shirts until her knuckles were sore from getting crimson stains out of them. While she hated the lifestyle that came with her husband’s job, she knew it was no use to convince him to ever leave it. As hard as it was saying goodbye to him every morning, not knowing if that would be the last time she’d ever see him, she remained loyal to him and supported him to the best of her ability. And deep down she knew that he harbored immense guilt. 

The guilt of introducing her, and now their unborn child, into the world of the mafia. That he felt less than for introducing her to this life of danger, despite the money he provided and the ostentatious lifestyle they were now capable of having. Two poor children growing up on the streets of Sicily with barely enough money to afford dinner some nights, now living in a mansion of their own thanks to one of Italy’s greatest mafia families. Yet, she wondered how different their lives could have been if they just left it all behind and moved to some unchartered island surrounded by beaches. Somewhere safe, where their child could just run and grow and be merry. Where her and Mario could grow old in a humble house and surrounded by their grandchildren. Just her, Mario, and little pea.

 ‘’You might step down, but I know you could never leave it for good. If not for the money, then for that little boy,’’ she hummed.

 Little Massimo had always looked up to Mario. His own father loved him dearly and spent every second he could with the boy but work tended to pull him aside and left Mario to fill the role of the father more often than not. She knew Mario secretly thought the same of Massimo, and her heart ached that she could not have given him a child of his own to play soccer with or to tell stories of heroes and gods to. Until now, that is.

 ‘’He’s a good kid. . .too good for this life,’’ he thought to himself, fingers stroking the exposed skin of her back. She didn’t respond, leading him to look back down at her. They both knew it was too late, that he would carry on his father’s legacy at some point. That those sweet, innocent brown eyes would harden with age and the violence would shape him into his father and his father before him.

  ‘’You both are.’’

  She heavily exhaled through her nose, hand cupping his cheek to force him to meet her eyes.

  ‘’We’re not going anywhere. We’re a family,’’ she firmly stated. Mario nodded, ignoring the terrible feeling that this was all a dream. A child’s prayer. That they were working with borrowed time. But he would allow himself to rest easy now, for her sake. He would will himself to enjoy this rare moment of bliss and light in a life where blood and crime filled every waking moment. He willed it with every atom of he possessed; that things would just remain as they were now.

 ‘’I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. To both of you.’’

 ‘’I know. But there will be a day you will stop hating yourself for trying to make a better life for them than the ones we had as children,’’ she responded, pressing a kiss to his lips, smiling as little pea gave a hearty kick in agreement.

 ‘’I love you so much, Isabella. Mi principessa.’’

 ‘’I love you too Mario.’’

  I thought that it was enough But I don't wanna say goodbye

 You awoke with a start, letting a deep sigh exit your mouth as quietly as you could. The strong arm wrapped around your midsection aided in evening your breaths as you took in your surroundings. The familiar scent that made up Massimo filled your being with instant relief despite the few stray tears that stained the beige pillowcase under your head. It wasn’t too often that you dreamt, and if you did it usually revolved around your loved ones. A faceless woman and Mario, scenarios that were impossible to remember but you tried desperately to create and unfold. The parents that you were robbed off. Dreaming of them helped heal you over the years, despite the heaviness in your chest. You quietly untangled yourself from the man heavily snoring beside you, admiring his peaceful state and noting that even with age he was still the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

 The sun was beginning to peek through the curtains of your bedroom, New Zealand’s winter weather providing a nice comfortable chill. Winters, as you and Massimo quickly discovered, were one of the warmest times of the year, and your favorite. The locals had been kind, quick to consider the two of you and your son ‘’whanau’’ or ‘’extended family.’’ They showed you the ins and outs of life in rural New Zealand, sharing their language and culture. In no time, your family of three felt as though this place had been your true home all along.

 The blades of grass tickled your bare feet as you took your morning stroll through the clearing. The Northern part of the country was full of them, and you found that your ritualistic morning walks through the fields did wonders for your health. Nearly twenty years had passed to the day the two of you moved to this new country with nothing but two suitcases filled with clothes and your infant son. So many birthdays passed, Christmases with Massimo dressing as Saint Nicholas in red swim trunks, graduations, staying up late on New Year’s Eve and waking up early to take the kids to school, all of it. 

You would think of these moments along with other random things as your bare feet felt the cool earth beneath you. You would think of Massimo, who was still as handsome as the day you met him. Older, but still divine in his own right, gray hairs gracing his beard and atop his head. Fine lines by the corner of his light brown eyes from so many years of happiness and laughter. You also thought of your children.

Your son would be visiting you two for Christmas break. Shit, you hoped Massimo would find the note you left instructing him to take the chicken out of the freezer for the special dinner tonight. Apparently y/s/n was bringing a girl he met at university and it was of the upmost importance that you and Massimo did not ‘’totally embarrass him’’ by bringing out the baby albums. You grinned at the thought of showing his girlfriend a particular picture of a six-year-old y/s/n mooning the camera because his father had not allowed him a second slice of pie.

 Having your daughter had been easier, admittedly. By the time you fell pregnant with y/d/n the three of you had set roots down in your home. Y/s/n was in school and old enough to help out with his baby sister and you and Massimo had settled into comfortable careers and your neighbors acted as adopted grandparents to your children. She was a spitting image of you, but she had her father’s pride that often served as the source of numerous insignificant fights between the two. Y/s/n resembled a perfect blend of his parents but had developed your reserved and empathetic nature while y/d/n could bring the former boss of the Torricelli clan to his knees with one glare. . .most of the time.

 Other times your mind drifted to things that needed to be done around the house, of the ocean, of the handful of genuine friends your little family had made over the years. Years of therapy and the occasional call with your therapist allowed you to also reflect on the past without the tight restraints of anxiety and fear restricting your breathing. Instead, you reflected on happier times. Like the way Mario would sigh in content after each sip of his black coffee. Or the rose garden that you adored so much. Or even as a child the way your pseudo-parents laughed as you ran along the shore, jumping over waves and feeling the sand between your toes.

 You found yourself constantly repeating the process of making peace with the past. How the horror and the beauty of it all could both coexist and live in your memories. The good and the bad could both exist and remain true, and the guilt did not have to plague your being as it had done so in your youth. The ghosts of the past no longer filled you with dread but would rather greet you and walk alongside you like old friends. That’s the thing about dealing with ghosts, they could only hold power over you if allowed them to.

 You sat down on a mossy log, sighing as you took in the smell of sea salt and fresh grass. Occasionally a few Kaimanawa horses would cautiously graze the fields, only to quickly gallop away as if they had never been there, much like the ghosts of your past.

 Y/d/n would be running late for dinner, as she had begun volunteering at a local retirement center between graduating high school and making the move down South for college. Medical school was clear in her future, while her older brother preferred studying World History to become a professor one day. Admittedly, both Massimo and you had full hearts that swelled with pride at your two children who grew up exactly the way the two of you had desperately hoped for; normal. A peaceful smile graced your lips, hands brushing away a few strands of hair that danced in the wind.

 ‘’You’re not very inconspicuous, dear,’’ you called out, only to be greeted by a pair of strong arms wrapping around your shoulders and lips pressed against your temple.

 ‘’Yeah, well once you’ve been married for 19 years, you tend to abandon being inconspicuous,’’ Massimo retorted, coaxing a playful scoff from you. You had some faded love bites from the other night that would greatly argue against that sentiment. The two of you had gotten older, but the sexual appetite seemingly only increased with age. You glanced down at the ring that had been resting on your left hand, the sparkle of the diamond would always draw attention in the sunlight. The two of you rested in comfortable silence, laying your head against his shoulder as you both watched the way the sun bounced off the turquoise waves.

 ‘’Your son is bringing a girl home for dinner tonight,’’ you murmured.

 ‘’I just got off the phone with him, apparently it’s serious,’’ Massimo responded, a shadow of a smirk on his face and playful wiggle of his dark brows led you to playfully swat at his chest.

 ‘’Be nice, he’s nervous. I’m sure you can attempt to remember when we were young and you’d get flustered around me.’’

 ‘’Remember? Principessa, to this day you still take my breath away.’’

 ‘’Yes because whenever I try to cook the house nearly always bursts into flames,’’ you joked, earning a deep laugh from your husband, his chest vibrating against the side of your face.

 ‘’Y/d/n will be late again, I’m sure. She got that trait from you,’’ you added, squealing as he jokingly pinched your thigh.

 ‘’I wasn’t the one who took her sweet time getting to the hospital.’’

 You grinned at the memory. So much laughter. So many wonderful moments. A stark contrast as to how the two of you had met. Almost comically different from where you two began. Life had just been so easy following the fire, following the move here. Like everything just fell into place the moment you got out of Italy.

 Both of your wedding bands glistened in the sun as the sounds of the waves echoed throughout the crisp air.

 ‘’Are you happy?’’ you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

 Massimo nodded, his head, knowing that your question did not mean if he was happy simply in this moment.

 ‘’I’m happy. . .you happy?’’

 Happy. The word you had been chasing and dancing with your whole lives. The word you wanted so desperately to fill your children’s lives with, and you both knew you had succeeded when they thought their parents were a normal, boring middle-aged couple who had met somewhere in Europe and moved to New Zealand for a better life. You succeeded in concealing the past and all of its’ demons. A pandora’s box of secrets and violence, locked away but never forgotten. You both raised wonderful children who were beginning to take on the world and make it their own. The two of you were so beautiful together, Massimo was such a devoted father.

 He was your best friend; you had realized at some point early on in your marriage. Friendship, it turned out, had been the basis for your relationship. Not lust. Not greed. Not vengeance. Friendship. The two of you had been given a life of lies and crime at birth, but in one another found something worth growing old for and worth leaving it all behind.

 Both of you defeated the odds and made a home for yourselves and a blissful marriage filled with love and passion and patience. How could you simply limit what you were feeling to just one simple, but powerful word? ‘’Happy.’’ Neither of you were all that experienced in happiness, prior to having your children of course. Or truth. Or normalcy.

 You analyzed Massimo’s face as he broke his gaze from the ocean to stare down at you. The face you woke up next to every morning and kissed before falling asleep at night. The one person who loved you without question as equitably as you loved them. Your Massimo. A soft smile found its’ way back home to your face as you leaned in to meet your husband in a kiss. Maybe, just for him, you could allow yourself to ease into the simple, powerful world.

 ‘’I’m happy.’’

 And I think you should know That I won't let it go

 Y/d/n sighed as she made her way down the halls, ready to check out for the day. Untying her thick hair from the tight pony tail, she sighed and rubbed at the stiffness in her neck. She knew her parents would tease her relentlessly about her ‘’impeccable timing’’ at the dinner table later on. She still had to change clothes and shoes and at least try to look presentable for her brother and his new beau. She groaned, readying herself for the night ahead.

 ‘’Alessia?’’ a soft-spoken voice called out, making her tense up and twirl around with furrowed brows. Was one of her mother’s friends here?

 ‘’Ma’am?’’ she questioned, entering the room of one of the many residents. An elderly woman, probably entering her mid-eighties sat in a bed, her white hair pulled into a tight bun.

 ‘’A-Alessia? Is it you?’’ her meek voice called out, hands shakily reaching towards her.

 ‘’No ma’am, I’m y/d/n,’’ she smiled down at the woman, taking one of her hands with both of her own in an attempt to comfort her.

 ‘’Y-you look so familiar,’’ the old woman whispered, eyes squinting only slightly as she gazed into the young woman’s eyes. ‘’You remind me so much. . .I-I lost her, I don’t know where she went,’’ her sad eyes conveyed years of pain. Honey brown eyes, similar to her own shiny with unshed tears.

 Y/d/n smiled sadly, stroking the older woman’s hands and listening with an empathetic ear. Alessia wasn’t a common name around these parts, which left y/d/n feeling confused and slightly unsettled as she comforted the elderly woman who, although never having met her, felt. . .different. As though she had known her without knowing her.

 ‘’Who did you lose?’’

 ‘’My daughter. . .she was so tiny. Little pea.’’

 The older woman sighed, shaking her head and laying back down into the crisp white sheets, running a shaky hand down her face as she collected her thoughts.

 ‘’If you’d like, I can come by tomorrow and visit you? I’d love to be friends and get to know you more,’’ y/d/n offered, earning a small smile from the woman.

 ‘’Thank you, Alessia.’’

 ‘’My name is y/d/n, ma’am.’’ The older woman smiled, settling back into her bed before resting her eyes, trying to dismiss a feeling of uncertainty brewing in the back of her mind.

 ‘’My name is Isabella.’’

 Y/d/n smiled kindly, nodding her head as she tried to search the archives of her young mind. Who was she? Why did she look so familiar?

 ‘’I’ll be back tomorrow, Isabella.’’

 The elder woman offered a sad smile, but a spark of hope illuminated her honey brown eyes.

 ‘’You will?’’

 She was already halfway out of the room, turning back to give a grin that showcased the dimple on the left-hand side of her cheek.

 ‘’For you, a thousand times over.’’

  It was like a million times I'm singing a lullaby And I think you should know That I won't let it go

  THE END. . .

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‘’You’ve been seeing me for quite some time, Alessia. And we both know we haven’t even scratched the surface of all the trauma you’ve endured.’’

 You offered an airy chuckle, absent mindedly playing with your fingers as you did so often when confronted with hard facts. Deflecting, you believed Jeevika had pointed out, was a common occurrence during your bi-weekly meetings.

 ‘’My trauma? I told you everything. My childhood, my real parents, meeting Massimo.  I don’t know what more you could want from me,’’ your e/c gaze met her honey-colored orbs.

 ‘’What I want from you is to allow me to do my job, to help you open up emotionally. How about what you really feel? How are things with Massimo?’’ her tone softened. You sighed, tapping your fingers against your jean-cladded thighs.

 ‘’We’re fine, great even. He’s been very understanding. Honestly, I was worried I would resent him. I felt as though I should hate him, for everything. I even hated myself for not being angrier at him. For not screaming at him. But I never had. It’s like. . .it’s like. . .I don’t know,’’ you trailed off.

 ‘’And you read the articles I recommended to you, yes? On Stockholm syndrome?’’

 You nodded, biting at your bottom lip momentarily before turning your head back at the waves meeting the ivory shores.

 ‘’I was sure it was that, at least at first.’’

 ‘’What changed?’’

 ‘’Everything.’’

  The incident at the mansion had taken place nearly three months ago. Both Massimo and you had worried about how the fire and general stress would effect the baby, Massimo had the best doctors from around the world checking up on you, taking your vitals, and you had grown used to the dreadfully cold gel they slathered over your growing bump. It wasn’t until you personally told him that you were both fine that he backed off a bit. You let out an easy sigh through your nose, smiling to yourself as you laid against the cool sheets of your shared bedroom. Spring was fluttering into summer and a gentle breeze carried the smell of the orange blossoms into the room. Your hands gently pressed and traveled over your growing bump, which by now was more noticeable and your baby was apparently the size of a nectarine. 32 weeks, and your baby proved to be perfectly fine and almost unbothered with all the turmoil that surrounded his or her parents.

 ‘’I love you so much,’’ you spoke gently, as if any loud noise would startle the life growing inside you.

 ‘’And your daddy, he loves you so, so much,’’ you continued, smiling at the thought of him.

 Your smile faltered only slightly, your subconscious drifting back to your own parents. Both of them. The ones stolen from you and the ones forced upon you. An uneasy, uneven sigh escaped your lips.

 ‘’My parents. . .they loved me too. I didn’t know them, not really, but they loved me enough to fight for me. I missed out on knowing them. My dad, he. . .we. . .there wasn’t enough time,’’ you choked on your words, hands pausing on your stomach.

 ‘’There just wasn’t enough time. . . and my wish for you is for you to know how loved you are. I promise to love you, and to love your daddy until the day I die. Because. . .the love a parent, a mother, has for her child. Well, I’d do anything for you. No matter how much we might argue or disagree, whatever you choose or wherever you go in life. . .I will love you until the day that I die. Both you and your daddy,’’ you whimpered, smiling down at your growing bump and letting the warm tears roll down your cheeks.

 You jumped when you felt a warm hand wipe away your tears, sighing in relief when Massimo’s warm smile lit up the already sun-kissed room. You held your arms up to him and he laid down beside you, ever careful around your stomach and rested his forehead against yours.

 ‘’I love you so much,’’ you whispered, leaning into his touch and the butterfly kisses he covered your cheeks in.

 ‘’Mia bella principessa,’’ he responded, his lips turned up into a charming smile.

 His massive hand rested carefully but firmly against the flesh of your abdomen, jumping in surprise when he felt a powerful and distinctive kick. He laughed, looking up at you as you grinned back at him. ‘’He’s always playful whenever daddy is near,’’ you beamed, completely in love with the way Massimo’s eyes lit up as he looked down.

 ‘’You seem pretty confident that we’re having a boy,’’ he teased. The right side of his mouth turned up into a smirk that was nothing short of sinful. You nudged him with your knee.

 ‘’I’m always right,’’ you quirked your brow in defiance. Massimo chuckled, bringing you down to his lips with a gentle hold of the back of your head. ‘’I know now better than to underestimate you,’’ he whispered between kisses. You nodded your head at him. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, his head resting against your growing bump as he traced invisible patterns along your exposed skin.

 ‘’Any ideas on a name?’’ you broke the silence, fingers threading through his dark locks. You felt him stiffen before hearing him sigh, your own brows furrowing in question as he sat up to face you.

 ‘’I’ve been thinking. . .’’ he trailed off. You squeezed his hand gently, prodding him to continue.

 He hesitated for only but a moment before meeting your eyes. ‘’I feel almost ridiculous deciding our child’s name when I don’t even know what name to call you now.’’

 Every muscle in your body tensed, even the breath in your lungs seemed to erase itself from existence. Against your wishes, against every fiber of your being and every molecule in your essence, flashes of the flaming estate and your ‘’father’s’’ charred corpse flashed through your mind’s eye. Coupled with phantom memories of your faux mother, Mario’s smile and comforting baritone voice, a distorted/murky vision of a woman you had met but was ripped apart from. All of these images, burned into your subconscious and rotating on some sadistic merry-go-round.

 ‘’It doesn’t matter-‘’

 ‘’Of course it matters,’’ Massimo cut you off, much to your shock and annoyance.

 ‘’Massimo,’’ you warned, readying yourself for the imminent fight.

 ‘’We need to acknowledge what happened. We need to at least talk about it once, we can’t pretend that none of it happened. You have not cried once since that day. You don’t mention it at all and when you wake up screaming in the middle of the night you brush it off like it’s nothing.’’

 ‘’That isn’t your place to decide, Massimo. It’s not your fucking right to tell me when to open up or to corner me into talking about my fucked up life and what happened.’’

 He clenched his jaw, running his hand down his face in an effort to keep levelheaded. You, on the other hand, sat up in your shared bed, hands in tightened fists and nostrils flared in defiance and anger. Massimo’s gaze flickered briefly to your bump, releasing a breath he didn’t even know he had been holding in.

 ‘’You’re absolutely right. It’s not my fucking place to tell you how to mourn or to corner you into opening up to me about all the shit you’ve been through,’’ your body remained tense, but your breathing began to even out as you processed his words.

 ‘’But, if there is any hope of us getting you through it and getting you to a place where you can at least acknowledge the past, you have to open up to someone about it, eventually. Even if that somebody isn’t me.’’ His hands hesitantly reached for yours, thumbs stroking your knuckles.

 ‘’I don’t know how this ends for us. I don’t expect him or her to come along and make everything right, because the truth of the matter is I don’t know if anything will ever be ‘right’ between us. After all I’ve put you through, I don’t expect ‘and baby makes three’ or ‘happily ever after.’ But I know I want to try. I want to try for you, and I want to try for them,’’ he nodded at your stomach. You didn’t even know you were crying until a strangled sob escaped your lips.

 Massimo’s hands cupped your cheeks, gently batting the tears away with his thumbs as his forehead pressed against yours’ in a gentle embrace.

 ‘’I’ve done wrong by you, so many times. And I will never make it up to you, because I can’t. Maybe in the next lifetime I can, but not in this, mi amore. But I mean this with every fiber of my being; I am in love with you. I want to raise our child with you and give them some sense of normalcy that we were robbed of in our youth. I want to grow old with you, if you’ll permit me. I’ve done wrong by you, principessa, and I’ll never be able to make it up to you, but I swear to all of the Gods above and below that I will spend the rest of my days trying to.’’

  You held each other like that for what felt like eons. Crying together, slowly letting down your walls only slightly. He was right, in some aspect. It didn’t make anything okay, any of it. But he was right nonetheless. He had been wrong and done wrong so many times. So many wounds imprinted on your heart, some by him and many by others. And, while the wounds were not your fault, the healing was your responsibility.

 ‘’Call me Alessia.’’

 You located a Dr. Jeevika Singh from New Zealand just a few weeks later and booked the first available slot in her schedule. And just like that you found yourself in therapy via video chats and phone calls. And not two months later did you find yourself with a child with wavy locks the same color as yours and the same beautiful amber brown eyes as his father.

  ‘’You mentioned in past appointments that you struggled with your son shortly after he was born,’’ Jeevika’s voice tore you out of your deep thoughts.

 You nodded, a bitter taste of guilt and shame infiltrating your tastebuds.

 ‘’I struggled with postpartum.’’

 ‘’And you still feel guilty about that, yes?’’

 ‘’I love my son more than anything in this world,’’ you whimpered, accepting the tissues with gratitude as Jeevika handed them to you.

 ‘’There is no shame in that, Alessia. You are a great mother. The fact that you show up to every appointment and have the courage to talk about all of this is proof alone of that,’’ her voice soothed the pain in your chest as you sniffled. You remembered all those early mornings with y/s/n crying and being too defeated to get up and tend to him. Massimo had been a godsent and part of you was envious at how well and natural parenting came to him. You remember spending countless days in bed, drowning out the world around you.

 The night terrors came and went, you found yourself arguing with Massimo about irrelevant things occasionally. While he would sometimes shout back, you had to hand it to him on how patient he had been with you. He stood by your side as you video chatted with Jeevika during a handful of sessions, working through his own trauma before Dr. Singh had put him in contact with a colleague of hers.

 ‘’I’m still so afraid,’’ you admitted after minutes of deafening silence.

 ‘’That your past will affect your son?’’

 ‘’That it will destroy him.’’

  You hardly remember the drive home, only realizing you had actually driven home when you found yourself in the comfort of your driveway. Massimo’s car was in its’ usual spot and if you strained your hearing, you could already hear his and your son’s laugher bounce of the foundations of your house.

 New Zealand took some getting used to. Traveling with a one-year-old during a pandemic had been no easy feat. Faking your deaths and obtaining new passports along with birth certificates and the appropriate paperwork was even more difficult, although you would argue otherwise at times. Trading a mansion for a humble, two-bedroom house was a welcome change of pace, as well as the small town you currently resided in. Nobody knew who you two were. Nothing tied you to Italy any longer, but you knew Massimo struggled saying his goodbyes to Laura and laying the ghosts of her and the child he lost to rest. Only Jeevika knew the truth, sworn to secrecy. Although it took some time trusting an ‘’outsider’’, you found it increasingly necessary for your sanity. Now you were just Alessia and Antonio Amarro to your neighbors. Or, as a certain little boy referred to you, you were Papa and-

 ‘’Mama!’’ squealing made you jump in your seat, only to grin at the sight of your son eagerly reaching his arms out from his father’s strong arms on the porch towards you.

 ‘’There are my handsome boys,’’ you beamed, rushing towards them. A sloppy kiss from y/s/n precedented an affectionate kiss from his father.

 ‘’How was it?’’ Massimo asked, closing the front door, and setting y/s/n in your arms before you two walked to the kitchen. You sighed, offering a tired smile. He offered one back, reaching into the cupboard.

 ‘’Was it a one one-shot or two shot kind of day?’’ he joked, setting two glasses down on the kitchen island as your son crawled off to play with his toys the second you set him on the floor.

 ‘’Honey, it’s a pour the bottle in a bucket of day,’’ you retorted, switching your shot glass with a wine one and helping yourself to a local bottle.

 Massimo chuckled, kissing your temple as the sweet liquid left a pleasant burn down your throat.

 ‘’And you? How did you fare with your mini-you?’’ you grinned, the two of you watching y/s/n organize his various stuffed animals into a half circle and make incoherent noises.

 ‘’He is my penance for giving my parents grief in my youth,’’ he snorted, but it was clear to see how much Massimo adored your son. You both did. He was the center of both of your universes and the best parts of both his parents. At times, you questioned how something so beautiful and sweet could have been forged in so much hurt and strife. Massimo’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, his lips pressing against your head as the two of you watched the proof of your love play with his blocks. So, maybe it wasn’t all grief strife and pain. . .maybe it really was love your son was born into. And maybe even hope.

  ‘’He asleep?’’ Massimo asked, flipping the page of the latest novel that caught his interest.

 ‘’Out like a light,’’ you grinned, making sure the baby monitor was on despite your son being just across the hall. You sighed as you shimmied out of your clothes in favor of your undergarments. You didn’t need eyes in the back of your head to know something else now had Massimo’s full and undivided attention, and you smirked in satisfaction. As any new mother was, you were not immune to the self-consciousness that came with motherhood. Your thighs a little thicker, breasts a little fuller, and a few stretch marks left their mark on your abdomen. But according to the father of your child, you were enchanting all the same. You were still his principessa.

 ‘’Have I told you how beautiful you are today?’’ his voice rumbled as he abandoned his novel on his nightstand in favor of crawling to you at the foot of the bed. You bit back a smile, failing at it, as he began pressing kisses up your spine to the dip of your neck.

 ‘’You may have mentioned it,’’ you whispered back, heat rising to your cheeks as his expert hands unclasped your bra.

 His warm breath fanned your shoulder and the column of your neck as his kisses made their way to the soft spot of your neck. A tiny, almost inaudible gasp left your parted lips as his hands cupped your exposed breasts, rolling the tiny buds between his thumbs and index fingers. A low growl of approval vibrated against you, and the hardness of his erection made itself known against the small of your back.

 You were flipped around, meeting the familiar smoldering gaze of the man before you. Your mouths fought for dominance, with you winning in a rare display of submission from your better half. And as your tongues intertwined and explored each other’s caverns, you tore at Massimo’s clothes freeing his thick appendage. With panting breaths you leaned forward, keeping your eyes locked onto his as you bent down to take his weeping cock between your lips.

 ‘’You don’t have to, mi amore,’’ he rasped out. You offered a quick smile before taking him in, his manhood quickly hitting the back of your throat. Bobbing your head, mewling around his cock you felt his hands tangle themselves in your hair as his deep groans and heavy breathes filled the room.

 He tasted divine. The saltiness of his precum was a welcome taste on your tongue as you whimpered when you felt his thick fingers rub against your pantie-clad pussy.

 ‘’You’re so wet for me, principessa,’’ he growled out, teasing your lips from outside your sopping wet underwear.

 You gave a particularly deep suck, flattening your tongue against the underside of his manhood as your hands cupped his balls, earning a tug at your hair and a long, thick finger entering your tight womanhood. A second one quickly followed with a third attending to your throbbing clit. You moved quicker, taking him in deeper as his fingers thrusted hard and filling your drenched canal.

 The way he tensed made it aware of his impending release. The lewd squelching noises emitting from the two of you filled your ears and you were grateful you closed your door so that your son would not be awoken by the debauchery his parents were taking part in. You promptly removed yourself from Massimo, his eyebrows furrowed in question before you shoved him onto his back and taking your place on your throne.

 Without breaking eye contact, your took the fingers that had previously been inside you and took them into your mouth, sucking the sweet juices off of them. He groaned, looking up at you as if you were Venus herself. You never tired of that look. You never would.

 Spreading your legs and moving up his body, hands clasping with his as he filled your needy pussy. You gasped, cheeks flushed as blood coursed through your body. You sunk down, impaling yourself on his thickness. His hands held yours, grunting as your tight walls welcomed him home. His hips rolled up against yours, bucking you with that Devil-may-care smirk of his. You scoffed, releasing your hold on his hands before steadying them against his pecs. You swiveled your hips, grinding against him as the two of you gasped each other’s names.

 ‘’I’ve missed this,’’ you whispered, bouncing as his hands traveled up and down your body.

 He moaned lowly in agreeance, his mouth taking one nipple between his lips as you rode him hard and fast. You cried out his name, biting your lip in a futile effort to keep your voice down, hissing as his cock hit seemingly new depths inside of you.

 ‘’You feel me right here, mami?’’ Massimo grunted, pressing a firm hand against your stomach. You whimpered at the feeling of his bulge filling you over and over with each of your movements. Hands planted firmly against his chest, Massimo’s hand cupping the side of your face as you made love to him. You leaned forward, breaths intermingling as the coil in the pit of your stomach was close to snapping undone.

 ‘’I-I love you,’’ you whispered so quietly you were afraid he didn’t hear you. You knew that wasn’t the case as one hand cradled the back of your neck and the other brought you forward to meet his soft lips in a climax-inducing kiss.

 ‘’I love you too,’’ he whispered back, the throbbing of his cock causing you to whimper as his release flooded your insides. Each twitch overstimulated you as you moaned out his name like a sacred prayer.

 There had been no time to recover as you were gently placed onto the mattress, laying face down and your legs spread. You sighed into the sheets at the feeling of Massimo’s release dripping out of you and making its’ way down your inner thighs. You bit down at the comforter as he filled you once more, the force of his thrust making your body bounce and eyes shut in overstimulated ecstasy. His hands gripped your hips, drawing you back to meet his powerful thrusts.

 Your mind drifted back to the scene of the ocean, the strong and powerful tide rocking against the steady shore. And you found yourself moaning his name as his strong thrusts rocked against your sensitive core.

 ‘’Like this, amore?’’ he groaned, the dragging of his manhood against your silky walls driving you mad. You could no longer form a coherent sentence, but the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes and the flush of your cheeks let him know you weren’t too far off from another sweet release. He sped up the pace, holding you firm enough to ensure you could not escape the onslaught of his thick member entering and reentering your most precious place.

 ‘’Mas. . Massimo,’’ you mewled out, turning your head to catch a glimpse of him and the way he moved against you. He leaned over the canvas of your back, grunting as his thrusts displayed the urgency residing within him. A powerful hand wrapped around the column of your neck, the other shoved beneath your quivering body as his fingers found your pearl and flicked at it.

 You gasped, twitching under him as your orgasm coated his cock. He didn’t stop even then, only speeding up to bury his manhood as deep into you as he could. Your legs shook around him, your hands clutching the forearm nearest your face as you whimpered and moaned his name and sweet praises.

 The warmth pooling inside you, along with the violent throbbing of his powerful cock made you all too aware that he found his release. His body went rigid on top of you, his forearms holding his weight as to not crush your smaller form beneath him. He stayed inside you long after you two had finished, lazily thrusting his hips to ensure every drop stayed inside your sated core.

 His sweet kisses brought you out of the post-coital bliss, a tired smile gracing your swollen lips as you turned to meet his lips. A tired, content sigh escaped each of you, neither of you daring to part even as sleep overcame you both.

  Y/s/n awoke early the next morning, you springing to your feet to throw on your robe before greeting your pride and joy.

 ‘’My handsome boy,’’ you beamed down at him, brushing the tuft of h/c locks that adorned his little head. With gentle ease you held him close, pressing a kiss to his soft forehead before making your way to the kitchen to get breakfast ready.

 As y/s/n happily drank from his bottle in his highchair, you cherished the warm cup of coffee in your hands, keeping your eye on the waffle machine a few feet away. You heard Massimo turn off the shower before his footsteps thumped down the hallway.

 ‘’Good morning my loves,’’ his throaty voice, still laced with sleep caught the attention of your son who gladly abandoned his breakfast in favor of his father. You grinned, sipping your coffee before leaning up to meet Massimo for a kiss.

 ‘’y/s/n, your mother is the most beautiful treasure in the world, never forget that,’’ Massimo grinned, pressing a kiss to his chubby cheek. ‘’Mama!’’ y/s/n squealed in delight, chubby hands grabbing at his father’s facial hair.

 You smiled, shaking your head as you prepared breakfast.

 ‘’Alessia, I think he wants you.’’

 You tsked before setting down Massimo’s plate in front of him, taking y/s/n into your embrace. Your smile slowly faded and brows furrowed when something caught your eye.

 ‘’Y/s/n, what do you have, my love?’’ you questioned, setting him in his highchair before carefully prying his tiny fist open.

 There it sat in your hand now, relatively small but immensely heavy all the same. Your mouth flew open and a tiny gasp fluttered from your mouth. It seemed like the house went completely still. You’re your son seemed to stop his fidgeting to admire the item you had taken from his hands. There, now in the palm of your hand, was the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. A diamond ring.

 Your body turned around before you could process it, only to see Massimo kneeling down before you.

 ‘’Marry me.’’

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 ‘’No. . .no, we aren’t going back there,’’ you chided, working to tidy up the place. ‘No matter how much I may long to. . .’ you mentally noted as your actions quickened in a pathetic attempt to block the mental image of Ray hovering over you, filling your tightness. The familiar pitter patter of butterflies in your abdomen alerted you of your arousal. The blush that steadily spread across your cheeks did the same.

 Ray and you had seldom spoken in the nearly 40 days it took for you to find an apartment in a safe part of Freeridge (upon Oscar’s insistence, to your shock) and for you to gather your belongings and move out (thanks to the efforts of Sad Eyes and Tito, also upon Oscar’s insistence and your shock). When you had said a quick goodbye to your ex of five years and the boy you practically raised since he was a small fourth grader, the longing look in Ray’s eyes was not lost on you. Whereas Cesar walked you to your car, Oscar hung back on the porch trying his best to seem unbothered, Ray leaned against the side gate of the house. A cigarette hung loosely between his lips as he made sure to stay out of Oscar’s line of vision. You didn’t need to look up at him to know he was watching you. To know that look in his eyes. You had the same look as you drove way, only concealing it as to avoid another fist fight between Oscar and his father.

 The apartment itself was nice and homey. Your job in real estate, selling mostly houses in Brentwood, made sure that you could afford nicer furniture, a stocked fridge, and lunch money for Cesar. He would alternate, opting to camp out on your charcoal gray couch while Oscar enjoyed the benefits of a newly single life back home. You feigned ignorance or uncaringness whenever Cesar showed up late at night with a sympathetic look in his deep brown eyes, but every time you thought about the girls drifting in and out of the only home you had truly known the past five years, your heart clenched in your throat.

 Sad Eyes had been another figure who graced your doorstep every now and then. He insisted it was because of the friendship you and he had maintained since high school, but something told you he was keeping tabs on you. The one, single one night stand you had partaken in a few nights ago just so happened to be cut short (too short) when Sad Eyes conveniently began pounding on the door. The situation had Oscar’s hypocritical jealous antics written all over it. Nonetheless, Jose was a good friend of yours’ and he along with Tito and the other Santos were a big help in setting up the place to your liking.

 As you drifted around the entertainment area, around the balcony, and around the kitchen watering your various plants, your brows furrowed. The one person who hadn’t really visited you, aside from Oscar of course, was the one man you couldn’t stop thinking about.

 Your night with Ray was far too passionate, or so you thought, to be just a one-time thing. As sick and twisted it might be, as horrible of a person that made you, you couldn’t help but yearn to have another night with the Diaz patriarch. Subconsciously, your hand drifted to your collarbone, sighing through your nose as visions of his strong, rough hands exploring your flesh resonated within you. Part of you shrunk back into your shell, your subconscious telling you that Oscar had clearly taken after his father when it came to breaking hearts. That Ray probably hadn’t been with a woman since being released from prison. That you were just an easy fix, a convenience for him in the form of an insecure and emotionally exhausted hyna. He didn’t see you anything other than a tight hole to keep his dick warm. You bit your lip, hands clutching the kitchen counter until your knuckles turned nearly pale.

 But the other part of you felt in your bones that it was not just an easy fix. That, yes lust fueled and spurred his actions, but there was something about the way he looked at you as you drove away from the house. Something that screamed ‘’more.’’ An enchanting, debauching look. Interest, maybe, but still more all the same. More.

 Your fingers danced down the valley of your breasts, down your abdomen, until your fingertips made contact with the top of your leggings. Admittedly, you had forgone wearing underwear this particular day, out of laziness, but you were certainly not complaining as your fingers met the wetness of your tight folds. An airy sigh escaped your lips, eyes closed as those fingers danced along your sensitive folds like little ballerinas.

 Your other hand began kneading your still clothed breasts, becoming rougher in an attempt to mirror the way Ray had done. Whether it was the forbidden, sinful nature of that night or not, no other man, not even Oscar had made you feel so erotic the way Ray Diaz had. Your eyelids fluttered shut as your moans steadily flowed past your lips like a gentle choir. The middle finger curled in the depths of your core, your index finger gently rolling the sensitive pearl above. The faster your digits worked, the easier it became to imagine Ray’s touch. The smell of his shampoo with the slight musk of his sweat from working out in the front lawn. The way he grunted every time he slammed into your core. The way his eyes went nearly black from pure lust and primal desire when he looked over your quivering form.

 ‘’R-Ray,’’ you whimpered to yourself, panting as your fingers worked diligently.

 ‘’Don’t stop, nena.’’

 Your eyes flew wide open, your mouth following suit as the man of the hour stood in your front door, learning against the frame. That infamous, lopsided Diaz smirk left no room to question where his boys got it from.

 ‘’Don’t stop on my account,’’ he repeated, uncomfortably shifting his weight to his other leg, a very noticeable bulge catching your attention immediately. You gulped.

 ‘’How the f-fuc. . .wha. . .why?’’ you screeched, hand quickly retreating from your pulsing, needy pussy much to your discomfort. You were convinced that he could feel the heat of your blush from across the room.

 ‘’The front door was unlocked. I know it’s a safer neighborhood, but you still need to-‘’

 ‘’I meant why the hell are you here?’’ you didn’t mean to sound as bitchy as it had came out, but you were slightly jilted from the way he had ignored you the pas several weeks.

 No calls. No texts. No surprise visits. Until now.

 The smirk faded from his handsome face, becoming more serious although his eyes showed the slightest hint of a mix of shame and sorrow.

 ‘’Y/n,’’ he sighed, eyes turning to look down at the floor. It was amazing how, for a split second, the father of two and former Santos member had morphed into a nervous young man. You could almost pinpoint what he looked like younger.

 You stilled, heart still racing violently in your chest. He had rarely called you by your name before. Even before you two had sex, it had always been ‘’nena’’ or ‘’mamacita.’’ In fact, you were sure he only used your name once. When he came inside you and sealed your fate. You suppressed a shiver, but Ray quickly caught the effect he still had on you. He regained some of his courage, standing up straight. Your eyes quickly surveyed the way his muscles automatically flexed as his arms folded up and crossed his chest. Damn him.

 ‘’I’m sorry I haven’t called or visited. . .I wasn’t sure if you wanted anything to do with me considering. . .,’’ his thoughts trailed off, not wanting to discuss the way Oscar had blown up after catching you. One thing you admired about Oscar, that despite his temper he never laid a hand on you. He would rage and toss some furniture in the opposite direction and yell like a madman. But his rage was mostly directed at Ray that night.

 ‘’We need to talk to you, hermano,’’ Oscar’s deep voice cut the silence as you resisted the urge to glare at the Santos’ leader.

 ‘’Okayyy?’’ Cesar offered an awkward smile, sitting at the dinner table. The same dinner table that just moments prior had been flung on its’ side as Oscar raged throughout the house. You had barely tossed the scattered food into the trash can before Cesar walked in.

 Ray cleared his throat and retreated to the side door of the house, probably smoking a cigarette to calm his nerves as the ‘’adults’’ had their talk.

 ‘’Cesar,’’ you started, reaching across the table to gently grasp his hand. When had he gotten so big? You never once tried to be the mother he had lost to drugs as a five-year-old. You never took away the authority figure that was forcibly bestowed onto Oscar. You were just Y/n; his brother’s girlfriend. But you knew you were the closest thing Cesar ever had to a mother/motherly figure. And you had fucked it all up.

 ‘’What’s going on?’’ his thick brows knotted in confusion. You hesitantly glanced at Oscar, him biting back a glare towards you as he sighed.

 ‘’Y/n is moving out,’’ he mumbled and if you didn’t know Oscar any better, you could’ve sworn there was a hint of sadness in his voice.

 ‘’Wait.. . what?’’ it broke your heart hearing the confusion and panic in Cesar’s voice.

 ‘’Cesar, it’s ok. I’ll still be here whenever you need me. It’s just,’’ you trailed off, your own voice wavering as you tried to muster up the best way to explain things.

 ‘’No it’s not ‘ok.’ Why are you leaving us? Leaving me?’’ Cesar’s voice steadily rose, yanking his hand away from you. The gesture made you wince.

 ‘’Cesar,’’ Oscar’s tone slowly shifted to that of Spooky.

 ‘’No! Tell me why she’s leaving. Why is she really leaving!’’ Cesar stood up abruptly, nearly knocking the chair to the floor. Somewhere outside Ray coughed on a nicotine coated cloud. The room filled with uncomfortable silence.

 ‘’Cesar. Sometimes, people just fall out of love. Things happen. Life happens. Sometimes even adults make really shitty decisions and they change on each other,’’ your voice remained soft as you sadly looked up at the boy you helped raise. You resisted the urge to look at Oscar’s gutted expression, knowing that if you did you would surely lose it. It had been that exact moment you regretted not leaving the house as soon as Ray walked in just hours before.

 Cesar’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, but once his chocolate brown hues fell upon his brother, they quickly hardened with anger.

 ‘’You did this. . .you fucking had to get your dick wet that bad that you didn’t even consider her! She did everything for us! For you! She was there for me when you weren’t! You were too busy being Spooky that you couldn’t be fucking bothered!’’ he snarled.

 ‘’Watch your fucking mouth, Lil Spooky,’’ Oscar steadily rose on his two feet, towering over Cesar. You stood as well, ready to jump into the lion’s den if necessary.

  Cesar scoffed, a mocking smile on his lips before it quickly gave way to the coldest glare. He looked nearly identical to Oscar. ‘’You’ve given Ray so much shit for leaving us and abandoning his family. . .in reality you’re no better.’’

 Oscar lunged forward, the two brothers tangled up as fists were flying.

 ‘’Oscar stop!’’ you screamed, throwing yourself into your ex, dodging fists left and right. Ray barged back into the house, getting a grip of Oscar as you shoved Cesar in the opposite way. The sound of Oscar’s fist coming into contact with Ray’s jaw echoed throughout the house.

 ‘’Get the fuck off of me! Get the fuck off of me!’’ Oscar snarled, desperately trying to shove his father off him to no avail. What Ray lacked in height when it came to Oscar, he made up with in strength. You could see Ray struggling to rein in his anger and maintain his grip on his son. Tears filled your eyes as well as Cesar’s as the two of you fell to the floor, watching the two men struggle.

 ‘’Had enough?’’ Ray grunted. He still smelled like you, and that more than anything broke Oscar.

 Oscar managed to shove the Diaz patriarch off, falling back against the wall as he huffed, tears clouding his vision. His eyes fell on you and for once, he saw the damage his infidelities caused blow up in his face. His baby brother crying into your arms, begging it all to stop as you cried to yourself in the corner. Both of you looked so small, you looked so defeated. He had fucked up. You met his broken gaze, shaking your head as if you could will all of this to evaporate. You had fucked up. The next morning, you began looking around Freeridge for apartments. The next few weeks, Oscar helped you load up your car as you moved twenty-five minutes away from the only home you knew. The day after that? You gathered the rest of your belongings and bit back a sob as you held Cesar in a crushing hug. As you looked over his shoulder, you saw Oscar leaning against the porch’s structure, biting his lip as he looked down at you, fighting the urge to ask you to stay. To work through it. But he quickly realized that was what he had been asking of you throughout all of these years. And that is why he remained silent as you pulled out of the Diaz’s driveway. He didn’t move until your car was out of sight.

 You shook your head, leaning against the island in the middle of your kitchen. Your hands rubbed and massaged at your temples, biting down on your bottom lip to prevent the tears from falling. ‘’That was on me,’’ you whispered, voice croaking with emotion. You jumped when you felt Ray’s strong hand on your shoulder. You gasped as a jolt of electricity passed through the two of you. Judging from the quick intake of breath, Ray felt it too.

 ‘’I’m so sorry,’’ he whispered. You straightened out, looking up at Ray despite still only reaching his collar bone. The inner struggle was clear as day in Ray’s eyes. He was undoubtfully attracted to you. But more than that, he admired you. The way you cared for his sons. The way you managed to handle the lifestyle of the Santos while still obtaining your classy demeanor. You were capable of holding down a family. And although you were insecure thanks to what his eldest son had put you through, Ray wanted nothing more than to reassure you of your worth.

 You hesitated for just a moment, before lunging upwards and meeting Ray in a passionate kiss. A kiss that conveyed all the words you wished to say, but didn’t have the strength to voice. His hands clutched your hip and cradled the side of your neck as he returned the kiss tenfold. Whether it was lust, genuine interest, curiosity, or some weird concoction of all three you found it entirely all too easy to throw caution to the wind around this man.

 You nipped at Ray’s bottom lip playfully, biting back a grin when you solicited a low moan from him. Pride be damned. Morals be damned. You had no obligation to Oscar anymore. Cesar didn’t need to know about this. It would just be a secret between the two of you.

 The whimper that escaped your lips as he forcefully tugged off your top sent shivers down Ray’s spine. He grunted when his eyes feasted on the exposed skin. Without him even asking you, you unclasped your bra and stood topless in front of him. He dove down, expertly taking your nipple into his hot mouth and began twirling his tongue around your hardened bud. You moaned mewled, hands running through his short hair and roaming his broad, muscled back. Your eyes rested on the faded Santos cross on his arm, whimpering when he nipped at your sensitive skin.

 ‘’R-Ray,’’ you moaned lowly, mouth falling open when his hand made contact with your ass in a playful slap. You had no time to recover before he pulled away from you, gently turning you so that your front was pushed and pinned against the cool surface of the granite island. You hissed as your already hard, sensitive tits pressed against the freezing surface. You rested your cheek against the counter, shivering as Ray yanked down your leggings.

 ‘’Fuck,’’ he moaned, seeing your wet core fully exposed and presented to him.

 ‘’You’re going to be the death of me mami,’’ he whispered, pressing his bulge against your gaping hole. You bit your lip at the heat that emitted from his still clothed cock. You knew what was awaiting you and your insides coiled at the anticipation.

 Each of his massive hands took a firm hold on the globes of your ass, gripping them and spreading you apart so that you were on full display under him. You let out a shaky breath between panting when his hot saliva met your tightness. His thumb spread it against your folds, teasing your clit before diving two fingers into your awaiting cunt. Ray all but growled at the way you gripped his digits. The delicious way you pulsed and clenched excitedly around his middle and index finger. He found himself constantly thinking, ‘I could get used to this.’

 ‘’Ray,’’ your needy voice broke him out of his thoughts as he folded over you, you feeling ever muscle of his chest against your bare back as he pressed light kisses against your shoulder before finally meeting your cheek and then your plump lips.

 ‘’I need you,’’ you whispered, leaning into his kisses and sighing when you heard him pull himself from his pants.

 ‘’You have me, princessa,’’ he grunted, working himself with one hand as the other tangled with yours’. ‘’You have me, all of me,’’ he groaned thrusting his hips forward and filling you with a brutal, singular thrust. You cried out, the burn of him stretching your tight canal was familiar and slightly painful, but divine all at once. His hand clenched yours, as if assuring you that you were ok, his lips still kissing the tears that threatened to escape the corners of your eyes.

 ‘’Fuck y/n,’’ he groaned, savoring the feel of his cock dragging within your tight pussy, pulling you back towards him as bit, only for you to bounce forward as he thrusted back into your core. He set a fast, brutal pace as the sounds of his thrusts echoed off the walls. You were grateful that your neighbors were at work, the wanton mewls and cries that escaped your lips would’ve surely caught their attention. As his hand held yours throughout the entire time he fucked into you, the other had a firm grip on your shoulder. Pinning you down so that you couldn’t slip from his cock and pulling you back to impale yourself on to his thickness.

 You attempted to burn the sounds of his grunts and groans, as well as the squelching of your tight core every time his hips snapped against you from behind, but soon became overwhelmed. He was heavy and hot inside of you. You could feel exactly where he was every time he was seated inside of you. Your body bounced in tune with his movements, but the feeling of his heavy, throbbing manhood in your cunt was something you’d always savor.

 Before you could even speak, waves of euphoria crashed within you as your release fell over his still hard cock. You could only cry out his name, panting it out as his hold on you tightened. He pressed fully against you, curling over your back as his cock throbbed and pulsed violently, painting your insides with his release.

 His arms wrapped around your front, dragging you so that you rested against his chest, impaling you on his still solid dick. With awkward movements he led you past the kitchen, into your bedroom while every step you took resulted in another jolt as you practically balanced yourself on his cock.

 Ray only pulled out briefly, laying you on your back on your mattress. He hovered over you, panting as his eyes glazed over at the sight of you. Your hair sprawled out like a crown around you, chest heaving with your labored breath and the post-orgasm tremors that shook you. What really caught his attention was the sight of your pretty pussy, still impossibly tight, dripping with his load onto your sky-blue comforter.

 ‘’Ray,’’ you whispered, reaching up for him. He laid over you, crashing his lips against your lips, seating himself back inside you. Your hands clawed at the white tank he still had on, only or him to pull away slightly and yank it off, tossing it carelessly into the corner of your room. His sweatpants were next along with any other article of clothing he had previously worn. All that was left was himself, bare and all.

 Your leggings had been long abandoned in the kitchen and the moment his bare skin met yours, your fates were sealed. It was hot, passionate, deplorable, mind-blowing, wicked, otherworldly sex. Your nails embedded themselves into his back and shoulders, your legs wrapping around his hips as they crashed into you. Your moans mingled with one another, lips and teeth occasionally clashing against each other as he moved in you.

 ‘’It’s been too fucking long without this tight pussy, princessa. My pussy,’’ he growled, hammering into you as you struggled to keep up with his thrusts. Your clutched the comforter beneath you as that familiar coil began curling and tightening within you. He was reaching new depths, exploring new parts of you that you didn’t even know existed. And all you could do was lay there, moan out his name, and take it.

 ‘’Fuck, Ray, yes, fuck it feels so good,’’ you whined, throwing your head back as he began nipping and sucking on the column on your neck.

 ‘’Cum for me, mi reina,’’ he grunted, every muscle flexing as he moaned and panted above you. His hands were wrapped around your hips, dragging and pulling you upwards to meet his thrusts. The coil was impossibly tight, tears running down your cheeks and falling onto the bed below from the sensation of it all.

 But came you did, violently around his manhood. You shook underneath him, mouth warped into an ‘’o’’ shape as you sighed and moaned under him. His thrusts sped up, to your shock, and it all came to a close the moment he pulled you to him, tucking his face into the base of your neck as his hot, thick load filled you once more.

 As he pulsed within you, your pussy clenching and unclenching from the aftermath of two mind-blowing orgasms back to back, you simply laid there. You basked in the aftermath of it all, shivering when his load began dripping out of you and pooling onto the blanket, leaving a quarter-sized dark spot in its’ path. Once your breathing returned to normal, Ray met your eyes, a softness in them. His mouth met yours in a comforting, warm kiss. He was still inside you when you closed your eyes and fell into a satisfying, deep sleep.

  When you had opened your eyes, it was visibly night-time. The orange glow of the streetlights illuminated your bedroom from your sheer curtains. Ray was knocked out beside you, one muscled arm thrown over your side in a protective manner. A small smile graced your lips, widening when you felt the strangely satisfying soreness between your legs.

 You quietly got out of bed, maneuvering around the apartment to get a glass of water while trying not to disturb Ray. You had no idea where this was going to lead you. You weighed the possibilities. To date your ex-boyfriend’s father just seemed so ridiculous and wrong. No matter what Oscar had put you through with his infidelities, to go ahead and enter a relationship with his father just seemed cruel to you. And what would Cesar think if he were to catch you and Ray together? At the same time, you didn’t want to say goodbye to Ray. Aside from great sex, you felt a genuine connection with him. He was older, yes, but he made you feel things that nobody ever had. You huffed, sipping on your water as you felt the beginnings of a headache approaching. A sudden knock and turn of your front door startled you to the point you nearly dropped your glass onto the hardwood floor.

 ‘’Y/n,’’ Cesar’s voice was muffled, but clear as day through the door.

 You gulped, body stiff with shock and fear. From your bedroom, the mattress creaked as Ray sat up, eyes groggy with sleep.

 ‘’Y/n?’’ he called out, getting up to check what the commotion was.

He was absolutely unhinged, pacing back and forth as his words jumbled together. He was in a manic state as he snarled and cursed and spat. Like a rabid dog, spittle and animalistic grunts erupted from his throat. The gun would shift from being aimed at your stomach and then carelessly being waved around in the air. He alternated from discussing Massimo, your mother, your birth parents, and the child you were carrying.

 ‘’You’re a filthy fucking whore. Just like the worthless bitches I deal with every day. Just like your whore of a mother and the woman I took you from,’’ he spat, eyes flickering around madly.

 You remained silent, for as long as he was livid and had the gun in his possession, it would be pushing the envelope too far if you provoked him.

 ‘’She left me. Can you believe that? SHE left ME! The moment she found out where I found you, she tried running. So I had to. . .I-I had to,’’ his fuming tone subsided as his thoughts trailed off. He paused, eyes searching the floors for an invisible variable.

 ‘’She tried taking you, tried running. Had she not been so weak she may have. . .faster. . .the bullet is always faster,’’ he chuckled, the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck stood stiff as he began laughing to himself as if a third party had made a joke. But that was the most harrowing fact of the matter. It was just you and him as he laughed over the details of how he murdered his wife for attempting to do what was right. For attempting to secure your freedom and hers’ before the mafia life had corrupted you the way it had her husband.

 ‘’And that other whore. . .Massimo’s first whore,’’ he panted between giggles. His hand that wasn’t holding the gun stretched out as if to mirror an explosion in the palm of his hand.

 ‘’She had no chance the moment Domenico told me their coordinates. She begged and screamed, not even for her life. F or her child’s. Just like my wife, just like the woman who birthed you. I thought for a moment about selling her off to a particularly violent ring in Serbia. But I don’t know what came over me, one minute I was standing there as this bitch wailed, the next I’m watching her burst into flames. It’s interesting, isn’t it? What lengths a mother would go to for her child?’’ his attention turned back to you, eyeing the nearly invisible bump of your lower abdomen.

 You were shaking. Whether in fear or in disgust; you couldn’t even distinguish the two at this point. All you thought about was how much you hated this man. How you wanted to watch him suffer and watch the light leave his eyes. You wanted him eradicated from the face of the Earth for you, for your unborn child, for all of the women whose lives he ruined, and for your father. The glass that previously contained your orange juice flew from your hands like a meteor hurtling towards an unsuspecting planet. The way the man you once called ‘’father’’ screeched as the glass broke out into hundreds of shards when coming into contact with his face was chilling, absolutely chilling. Your body quickly fell to the floor as his finger instinctively began firing out shots in a blind fit of rage. You gasped when one bullet ricocheted off your vanity mirror and bounced to the floor, right beside your right shoulder.

 When you glanced up you tensed. You would be lying if you had said the scene before you didn’t strike fear into your heart. Blood coated his face, dripping down onto his chest and forever staining that white suit of his. One of his eyes was shut tight as blood, tears, and another fluid which you could only guess to be vitreous gel seeped from the wound. Blinded. He aimed once more, only for his stomach to fall when the distinctive ‘’click’’ of an empty chamber echoed amongst the walls. From the distance you could hear the guards racing up the eastern staircase to see what the commotion was about.

  Without hesitating you charged at him, landing a powerful kick to his left knee and didn’t even cringe when the sickening crunch shortly followed as he collapsed to the floor in agony. You panted, quickly grabbing the steel poker from the fireplace as well as a mop the maids had left as a makeshift barrier to temporarily keep the guards out.

  Your father, through his screams and gasps of excruciating pain, thrashed on the floor like a fish clinging onto life. Through your own labored breathing, you kept your attention on him as you knelt to the ground beside him.

  ‘’You fucking cunt. You won’t make it out of here alive. You and that fucking bastard in your belly will burn,’’ he spat, blood and saliva falling to your cheek. He broke out into maniacal laughter, looking like the devil himself.

  You brought one shaky hand to your face, wiping off his blood and spittle before reaching into his pant pocket before acquiring what you were looking for. His laughter stopped when his one good eye recognized what you were holding.

‘’No, you will. Your legacy will burn along with you. This estate, your men. It all ends with you,’’ you coldly responded before you began pouring the concoction of cleaning materials over his body, nearly waterboarding him in the process. The odor of the bleach quickly enveloped the room. The voices of his guards steadily grew louder as their footsteps drew nearer.

 You rose from the floor, ensuring every bottle of bleach, spray, and scented oils was dumped onto him before clutching his lighter. You could vaguely hear him cursing you, cursing your child, cursing Massimo and everything under the sun as he desperately moved around the floor like some sort of slug.

 ‘’I’ll see you in Hell!’’ he roared, the flame easily taking hold of one of his drenched arms and rapidly growing thereafter. The entire room illuminated into a burnt orange glow as smoke quickly began flooding it.

  ‘’You will, but you be sure to tell them who put you there,’’ you responded, eyes reflecting the haze as you watched him burn. You didn’t even blink as the smell of charred flesh filled your nostrils. And as he burned, you prayed with all your might that he thought of the pregnant woman he burned in the backseat of a limo two years ago.

  The sound of the door banging broke your trance as you grabbed the steel poker from the door, readying yourself as the fire quickly became fiercer. You turned on the gas for the fireplace, mentally prepping yourself for what was to come. The flames lapped at your curtains and you knew it would only be seconds before the room would explode into a wildfire.

   Domenico nervously bounced his leg, repeatedly calling the y/l/n estate to no avail. In the background, Massimo gathered with his men as well as his cousins and their men, locating the weak spots of your family’s estate. Taking out the guards would be an easy enough feat, but securing your safety and drawing you away from your father while dodging snipers and bodyguards was another matter. Massimo ran a hand down his jaw as his closest cousin, Luca, set a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

 ‘’It’s going to work, primo. We’re going to get her back.’’

  Domenico clenched his jaw, cursing your father as his private line went directly to voicemail. He had to think fast, he had to play his cards right if he had any hopes of getting out of this alive.

  ‘’Domenico.’’

 He jumped, turning to meet Massimo’s confused gaze.

  ‘’Sorry, personal issues,’’ Domenico smiled anxiously, quickly shoving his phone back into his pant pocket. Massimo’s deep eyes felt like they were seeing right through Domenico. As if he could see right into his soul and uncover every lie and betrayal with one glance.

  ‘’I’ll ride with you,’’ Massimo muttered, tightening his bullet proof vest and ensuring he had a full chamber.

  ‘’Great.’’

  The two exited the mansion, hurrying alongside a dozen of the most ruthless and well-known assassins within the Torricelli family. Domenico suppressed a gulp when he caught Luca loading a Beretta with such ease. With shaky hands, not unseen by Massimo, he opened the car door for his lifelong friend and boss and promptly took the driver’s seat. Domenico felt Massimo’s gaze in the rearview mirror as he started the car, eyes moving around wildly while attempting to give the impression that all was well.

  ‘’You seem tense, Domenico,’’ Massimo noted. His voice was unnervingly calm.

  ‘’What makes you say that?’’ Domenico laughed it off, foot still on the break and hand still on the stick.

  Massimo shrugged, looking out the window onto the pastures.

  ‘’Did she say anything when you took her back?’’ he continued with his jaw clenched. Domenico tapped at the stick, wracking his brain around for any possible options.

  ‘’Did she? Did her father? Did your banksmen gasp when they saw the two million wired to your account the day she left?’’

 Domenico’s eyes widened in sheer terror, finally meeting Massimo through the mirror. His mouth opened and closed but the only sound that could come out were tiny, high-pitched gasps.

 ‘’Why did you do it?’’ Massimo sighed, tired and the hurt clearly evident on his chiseled face. With a gulp, Domenico felt his entire body shake.

 ‘’Mas. . .it was. . .it was just business.’’

 Massimo nodded, sniffing the air as he bit his bottom lip in an almost nonchalant manner. ‘’Not to me.’’

 Massimo lunged forward, the wire wrapped tightly around Domenico’s throat as he thrashed around, kicking at the windshield, the steering wheel, anything he could. He gagged and gasped, trying to claw at Massimo’s face. Massimo didn’t let up, using all of his might to pull tighter while dodging Domenico’s flailing fists.

 ‘’It was never business! Not when they burned Laura alive! Not when they caved Mario’s face in!” Massimo roared to the point the windows of the car shook and vibrated. All the while Domenico squealed and huffed as his lungs felt as though they were burning to a crisp. His usual olive skin rapidly turned a bright purple as he shook violently against the driver’s seat. ‘’Mario began the investigation the day Laura died, I didn’t want to believe him,’’ Massimo growled, fresh tears blurring his vision. ‘’But he was always right.’’

 ‘’It wasn’t business when you involved Y/n,’’ he hissed lowly in the same manner a cobra would before going in for the kill. Massimo kept grunting, pulling and yanking until finally the thrashing and gasping stopped. Domenico laid rigid against the leather seats, limbs and face contorted in a gruesome manner as Luca then opened the driver’s door and tossed the body onto the graveled driveway. He took the previously occupied seat and began driving away. Massimo sighed, fixing his hair and undoing the safety of his gun. He inhaled, exhaled, and repeated the action to recollect his thoughts. He prayed you were unharmed, that you wouldn’t meet the same fate as so many before you. He was well-accustomed to loss at this point, but he knew he could not go on without you. Because if any harm had come to you, he’d set the whole world on fire and bury himself beneath the ashes.

  Taking out the two guards had not been an easy task, the wound on your shoulder where the bullet had nearly gone straight through had been proof of that. But you had done it, you were covered in their blood from when you had shot one and bludgeoned the other with the fireplace poker, but you were alive. The blood soaked through your once ivory nightgown and matted your hair. ‘’Please just hold on a bit longer,’’ you prayed, hand over your stomach as you crept through the halls, clutching the rifle that had only moments prior belonged to an ill-fated guard. You could hear men frantically yelling throughout the halls as you hid among the shadows. The flames had quickly spread from your room throughout numerous others and a veil of black and gray smoke began wafting through the mansion. One of the cooks from below had been so startled by all of the commotion that he had fled, the wine used to sauté the chicken meant to be tonight’s dinner had been forgotten and led to a second fire burning downstairs. Thus, your childhood home had steadily, yet increasingly became eaten away by the parasitic flames.

 ‘’Sir we have numerous cars approaching the estate.’’

 ‘’I have eyes on the tar-‘’

 Silence. The walkie talkie on the security detail went dead silent. Then a familiar sound of bullets raining down outside. You didn’t even care as random staff ran frantically up and down the halls, too terrified to approach the blood-soaked woman who eerily walked through the orange glow of the burning mansion among the blackened air with a hauntingly calm aura. You recall forgetting to breathe every now and then in a subconscious effort to keep as much ash and smoke out of your lungs. You briefly remember a guard staring at you in shock and perhaps even rage before you shot him dead, the bullet piercing his left cheek. You didn’t even pay attention to the barrage of bullets and yelling outside, the crackle and hissing of the flames quickly becoming louder by the second.

Whatever was happening outside, bullets managed to pierce through some of the windows of the mansion, the flames quickly growing in size and in fury. You knew you had to get out, and you had to get out this instant unless you would be swallowed alive by the fire. You you found yourself slowly coming out of your daze, out of the traumatic events unfolding and revealed before you. You took a sharp right, maneuvering amongst the broken glass, ashes, and bullets that littered the steps. Your fists clenched, jaw tight as the hairs on your arms and neck stood up as you felt eyes on you. Raising the rifle promptly, shocked at how easily you were prepared to take another life, you let out a gasp as you met deep brown eyes.  

  Massimo could’ve sworn he was dreaming, or that he died and woke up in hell. He remembered the assault on your father’s estate, his cousins and loyal men effectively taking out the security one by one. When he caught whiff of the smoke and the sight of the angry red and orange flames, he threw caution to the wind and barged into the kitchen door that had been tucked away on the side of the house. He hissed when the influx of air had breathed life into the flames’ chest, running out of the inferno that had been formally the kitchen and great dining hall.

 ‘’Y/N!’’ he screamed, eyes squinted due to the smoke that clouded his vision.

 His nostrils and lungs stung from the unbearable smell. He stalked the burning building, ignoring the maids and cooks who were in hysterics and searching for a way out. He didn’t care, only firing once at a guard who stepped into his line of vision.

 He found himself by the front entrance of the estate, not yet charred by the approaching flames, but certainly torn apart by the attack and the ashes that circulated in the air. A body or two littered the background. He allowed the thick air to fill his lungs, only for it to leave when he looked up the grand staircase.

 ‘’Massimo. . .’’

 You looked like some sort of war goddess. A Valkyrie sent to deliver him home. A siren calling out his name. Amongst the rubble and bloodshed, among the dead and the living. He didn’t care. All he saw was you. You froze, the rifle falling to your side and slipping from your grasp onto the steps as your mouth slightly opened. Massimo breathed heavily, the tears smearing the blood splatter and ash from his cheekbones.

 ‘’Principessa,’’ he practically whimpered.

 ‘’You came back,’’ you whispered, half to yourself and half to the bloodied man standing before you.

  He nodded, his legs carrying him towards the stairs as you slowly made your way down, still in shock. Like the very foundations around you, the world faded away. There was no logic, no violence, no loss. Only love. Even as he held you in his warm embrace, even as you both cried and gently caressed each other, nothing else mattered other than the man standing before you. His thumbs wiped away your tears and smeared the blood on your face in the process. Your hands cradled the sides of his chiseled features. Whimpers and sighs passing between both of your lips.

‘’You’re ok. . .you’re ok, principessa. . . you’re ok’’ he kept repeating, holding you and kissing you, eyes glazed over with tears as he noticed your shoulder that the bullet had grazed. He gulped, choking on his words as you kept reassuring him.

‘’You’re ok,’’ you couldn’t tell if Massimo was reassuring you or himself or asking you, but you nodded up at him, offering a smile through your tears as he held you close to him. Your hand drifted to your stomach. His body tensed as his eyes tore away from you to look at where your hand pressed.

 ‘’We. We’re ok,’’ you kept nodding, taking his hand and pressing it to your tiny bump.

 His jaw fell slack as his eyes stared down. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t known about the baby and sent you away. Had he known, he would never have let you out of his sight. But he loved you, loved you enough to let you go to protect you. Loved you enough to show you the most vulnerable parts of himself, the parts he feared were too gruesome to love. And he wanted nothing more than to have this moment engraved into his memories and to live his life with you.

 ‘’I’m tired of pretending that I do not love you, because I do. I’m tired of running. I’m so tired of running,’’ you let the words fall from your lips, finding it extremely freeing.

 He finally tore his eyes off your abdomen, meeting your eyes as the hand that was not pressed against your small bump cradled the side of your face. You leaned in further against his touch.

 ‘’Then stay.’’

 You nodded and let the tears fall freely as your lips met in a passionate kiss. You clutched at his vest, crying tears of relief and complete happiness as he led you out of the only home you had ever known. His thick arms clutched you to his chest, shielding your face from the ashes and smoke as you inhaled his scent. The sunshine blinded you as you left the confines of your birdcage, being placed into a truck with Massimo still clutching you and looking you over for injuries. He sighed, the exhaustion and relief evident in his eyes as he and his men began heading out. You refused to look back as the estate burned to the ground, only an exoskeleton of brick and steel would eventually remain, like the bones of a great beast.

 But you didn’t look back, you couldn’t. Your eyes gently closed as your face rested against Massimo’s chest, his hand holding yours as if you would disappear if he let go. You felt him press a kiss to your temple as his arm wrapped around your body, his hand protectively covering your bump as he allowed himself to take it all in. As the vehicle began driving past the pastures where you would ride horses, past the cliffs and ocean where you had spent endless days as a child and where you had your first kiss, the sun felt like a blanket over your bodies in the backseat. A sigh escaped Massimo as his body also began to relax once he was able to comprehend that it was over. That he had found you and you were both now free. The dirt road gently rocked you both to sleep, hands still tangled together. Leaving the past behind, heading towards your tomorrow.

 ‘’I love you, principessa,’’ Massimo whispered aloud. And to himself, before sleep overcame him he gave thanks to his father, Mario, and Laura for watching over the two of you today. And he would’ve liked to think that all three were finally at peace, smiling as they headed towards their own tomorrows as the two of you headed towards yours’.

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You didn’t keep track of time in the days that you had spent locked away in your room. You avoided mirrors entirely, having no desire to look at the dark circles that embedded themselves under your eyes or the way your eyes had lost any sort of light in them. Your lips were chapped, but the headaches had ceased a day or two ago. You were sure that you had cried yourself out the day Massimo had sent you away, that there were no longer any tears that your weak body could muster. A part of you felt incredibly selfish, given your condition, but you couldn’t think clearly. Every waking moment was spent thinking about Massimo. You weren’t eating nearly enough nor drinking enough water to fuel your body. Sleep evaded you, though you didn’t desire that either. All you really could think about was how you would never see the man you loved again.

 ‘’Honey?’’ your father’s throaty voice called from behind you as you sat against the large window of your room.

 Guards were stationed everywhere, at least two of them always present at your door. In short, running away or even jumping out your balcony simply weren’t options. Your hand twitched at the sound of your father’s footsteps, sucking in a deep breath when his meaty hand gently clasped your shoulder.

 ‘’Honey, the maids have been telling me that you haven’t been eating much,’’ the way his voice gave the illusion of genuine concern baffled you. The way this man, this monster, who kidnapped and sold thousands if not millions of women and children could go to sleep every night and be free of guilt stunned you. How easily he could attempt to continue this charade of being the loving, doting father that you had foolishly believed all of these years filled your insides with revulsion.

  ‘’I. . .I’m not hungry,’’ you croaked, your throat dry as a tendril of your hair (which that itself seemed to lose its’ shine) fell in front of your face.

  Your father reached out to brush it away, stopping short when he noticed the way you cowered and flinched. He let out a sigh of frustration, turning his attention to the door.

 ‘’Leave my daughter and I alone, we have much to discuss,’’ he barked at the guards, who dutifully did as their boss ordered and went on their merry ways.

 A lavishly hand carved wooden chair scraped along the tiled floors as your father took his seat a few feet in front of you. He leaned forward, creasing his expensive suit and the way his gold Rolex glistened caught your attention for a brief moment.

  ‘’Y/n, what happened to you?’’

  You barked out a laugh, shaking your head as your hand ran itself through your locks. ‘’You cannot be serious,’’ you chuckled,  your father’s bushy brows pinching together in both confusion and dwindling patience.

 ‘’As the plague,’’ his tone took on a more serious bite, causing your faux grin to melt away and be replaced with cold, angry eyes. Those terrible eyes. You couldn’t help but think those terrible eyes had been the last thing many people had looked into before they died.

 ‘’My entire life has been a lie. Everything I thought you stood for, father, has been a lie,’’ you shifted your weight to look him dead in the eye. His thumbs nervously twitched.

  ‘’You had a great childhood,’’ he tried deflecting. ‘’You never wanted for anything.’’

 ‘’At what cost, father?! Human lives?? Innocent people everyday suffer because of you, because of this family! Families torn apart, lives ruined. And you didn’t even care!’’ you snarled, arms waving around wildly.

 ‘’I did what I had to in order to ensure we were on top! It’s time you grew up and knew what reality consists of, young lady! It is survival of the fittest, eat or be eaten, kill or be killed!’’ he spat, hands doing all sorts of manic gestures. You scoffed, shaking your head.

 ‘’I have been kidnapped, used as leverage, nearly assaulted in an alleyway, beaten and nearly shot by YOUR men. Don’t you dare sit there and attempt to lecture me about reality or the real world. I’ve SEEN the real world, and it is an ugly, decrepit, dark place because of men like you,’’ you hissed. For a split second you swore you saw your father cower back from your words. At the very least he was unnerved by your changed personality. You were no longer the innocent child calling him excitedly about your acceptance letter to Harvard, nor the sweet little girl picking apples in the orchard. You’ve changed into something else entirely.

 ‘’And you think Massimo Torricelli is any different?’’ his voice terrifyingly composed and stoic.

  You were at a loss for words as you sat back into your chair. You gazed at the bronze door handle just yards away. ‘’I know he’s different.’’

  Your father laughed, shaking his head at you in the same manner he would when you were young and had said something out of childhood innocence. It made your blood boil.

 ‘’Now I am convinced you truly live in a fantasy, y/n,’’ he chuckled, taunting you. Baiting you.

 You leaned forward in your chair, forearms resting on your knees as you met his cold gaze.

 ‘’So set me straight.’’

 He arched a brow, any implication of humor immediately evaporated from his face. ‘’About?’’

  ‘’Everything. Laura, Mario, my mother, everyone and everything. Set me straight. Release me,’’ you demanded without blinking. He gulped at the mention of your mother, rubbing his hands on his pants and looking down at the family ring.

 ‘’No, look at me. I want you to look at me as I finally hear the truth in your own words,’’ you ordered. He clenched his jaw, but did as you wished. Your gaze softened only slightly as you increasingly grew desperate.

 ‘’I need you to release me.’’

 He sighed, glancing once more at the ground before meeting your gaze.

  ‘’Twenty-seven years ago. . .your mother and I had been married for nearly ten years. Seven. . .seven miscarriages and one stillbirth later and we still had no children. You know as well as I do that in this life, a family needs a legacy. Children are that legacy. Without them, the family dies out and leaves its’ head vulnerable.’’

  ‘’We had visited numerous doctors from all over the world. The words ‘sterile’, ‘hostile womb’, ‘low chance of conception’ quickly became accustomed to us. It took a heavy toll on her. She lost weight, her smile, even some hair and above all she lost the will to live. And the family became weaker because of my inability to produce an heir to the y/l/n throne. At this point I had been in the business for quite some time. I had done everything my father and grandfather failed to do; create an empire. I succeeded in establishing my throne, but I had failed miserably at producing an heir. One day, as I was overseeing normal operations, I saw something.

 This woman, a spitting image of your own mother in her youth screamed wildly. Had her health not deteriorated from the depression and numerous treatments, I could’ve sworn it was my loving wife, but no this woman was fiercer, younger. The wails that erupted from her mouth were inhuman, like a fox caught in a trap or a mother wolf crying to the moon. She caused a great disturbance that day, work seemingly ceased as I made my way over to see what the commotion was about. I gripped her arm and saw she was carrying a small bundle tucked under her breast. The men and I finally ripped it from her and there you were. . .this small, beautiful child. Truly beautiful. Too beautiful to be in the hands of clients and sold off like livestock. It made sense why this woman fought tooth and nail to keep you two together; refusing to be separated and sold off. She kept screaming for her husband, and she kept wailing your name over and over as I took you. She was sent away. . .somewhere far down South. . .Australia or New Zealand rather. And from then on you were our little y/n.’’

  You froze in your chair, mouth dry as the ground beneath your feet crumbled right from under you. One could hear a pen drop at the silence that plagued the room.

  ‘’W-what was my name?’’ was all you could think to ask. Somewhere, somehow in the deepest part of you, you knew. The name was on the tip of your tongue, yet you prayed that you were wrong. But you knew. You knew. He pondered a second or two, searching the archives of his mind before he finally answered:

  ‘’Alessia.’’

  Your father rushed to your side as you collapsed onto your knees, sobbing and wheezing for air. ‘’Y/n! Y/N breathe!’’ he yelled, holding you to his chest as you let out a blood curdling scream, echoing off the walls and throughout the mansion. With everything in you, you screamed. You clawed, kicked, pounded your fists on any surface within your proximity. Begged. Begged to make it stop. Begged for him to tell you that he lied. That it wasn’t true. That he hadn’t ripped you from your birth mother’s arms and ripped away your identity. That you were y/n y/l/n, daughter of y/f/n and y/m/n. But he never did. He never would. And you were forced to face the dark, haunting reality of your tragic past.

 Your name was not your name. Your home was not your home. Your mother had not been your mother. And your father was not your father. It had been Mario all along. So close, yet now forever out of reach. How cruel it had been.

  Hours must have passed. You weren’t sure how you ended up back in your bed with a towel draped over your forehead, forcibly given water and orange juice. After the maids had assured your father that you had only suffered a panic attack had he dismissed everyone. In their urgency, the maids completely abandoned their cleaning supplies by the door to your father’s annoyance but said nothing and had taken a seat at the foot of your bed.

 ‘’I am so sorry. Truly y/n,’’ was all he could say, avoiding your eyes.

 ‘’Don’t. Don’t call me that,’’ you shook your head, tears brimming your eyes.

 He huffed, shaking his own head in annoyance. ‘’You have cost me enough trouble as is. Over 80% of my produce is gone. Most of my men, dead! I have to rebuild this family from the ground up. All for your fucking fairytale romance, all because you spread your legs for that fucking bastard!’’ he snarled, finally showing his true colors.

  A slight smirk threated to tug at your lips as you saw him begin to unravel, but opted to meet his deadly glare with your own as you sat up. He must’ve noticed this because he took a deep exhale and collected himself, slowly deteriorating into the role of the caring father.

  ‘’That said, you are ready to begin overlooking things as well. You are still my daughter, still the one to inherit this business. You will work to rebuild, restore, and expand this family’s name. And in time this will all be forgotten,’’ he rose, turning to exit.

  ‘’You’re wrong.’’

  He visibly froze, fists clenching at his sides. He swiftly turned back around to face you.

 ‘’Y/n,’’ he hissed through a locked jaw.

  ‘’I told you, that’s not my name. It never was. And I am not going to help you rebuild this fucking family, I’m going to use the foundation of this house brick by brick and stone by stone to build my own funeral pyre if I have to. But I am done. I am done being afraid and scared and lied to. I’m done being a pawn.’’

  ‘’What makes you so sure you can walk away from this? You think he’s going to save you? That he’s just going to waltz right in here and take you back and you’ll live happily ever after?’’ he scoffed, face turning purple from his rage. You shook your head in disagreement.

 ‘’I’m saving us,’’ a protective hand placed over your stomach. It took him a moment before it finally sunk in. All the dots became aligned and, for once, it was he who was finally brought to the light of realization. You nodded.

  ‘’You said it yourself; children are that legacy. Your legacy will die with you while his will live on.’’

 ‘’You’re. . .’’

 ‘’Pregnant.’’

 The air went frighteningly cold. He reached into his back pocket and you broke out into a cold sweat. The thudding of your heart beating in your chest was the only noise that seemed to matter. Now or never. He steadily rose his hand, pistol in plain sight and glinting from the evening sun shining through the sheer curtains. Now or never. The slender glass cup that you had drank from rested in your iron grip. Now or never. The abandoned cleaning supplies just feet away from the man holding a gun and aiming at your stomach. Now or never. The sound of his index finger clicking the safety off echoed in your ears as the world seemed to move in slow motion.

 ‘’If you think this story has a happy ending then you, my dear, haven’t been paying attention.’’

  Now or never.

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