Chapter 11: True Colors

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Next week's update is gonna be juicy, you will get to know a lot about Kahina's identity.

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Kahina's POV:

I was angry—no,  it was even more than that; I was furious and devastated. I couldn't believe that all it took him was a minute to betray me without any second thought.

Actually, more than that, as he had apparently been following me. As if I were a child, he had to watch over me, as if I were a possession who didn't have any right to privacy.

While driving, I was toying with the idea of going to Meredith's; she would probably know what to do, but I wasn't sure I wanted to involve her in this mess. Not yet anyway; I needed to sort myself out and take care of the man in the car with me. I couldn't bring a freshly tortured man to Meredith's door.

If Aurelio was this unhinged when we had barely just slept together, if he felt like I belonged to him somehow, I couldn't imagine what he would do to Meredith if he thought she was keeping me away from him.

This was truly the worst decision I had ever made, and my father was right about everything. I hated to admit it, but it was true.

The man in my backseat was wheezing like he was on the brink of death, and that forced me to make a quick decision. I headed to my personal studio, as I could get in with only the code.

Helping him stay up in the elevator and smuggling him past the security cameras and people to get him to my studio was no small feat, but it was one I managed nonetheless.

Even once inside, I didn't have a minute to think about the situation; I had to tend to him as best as I could with the medical supplies I had on hand.

As I was stitching him up, because it seemed Aurelio had started slashing him at some point, I said, "I know this has been a traumatic experience for you, and I'm deeply sorry. I didn't put him up to it, and I will sort this out, I promise. Tomorrow, you can go home; just lay low for a little while." I was deeply apologetic towards the author, especially when seeing the fear in his eyes at my words and the way he nodded at me, defeated.

I headed to bed, my head pounding, very aware of the wounded man sleeping on the air mattress next to me.

I woke up to someone pounding on the door. I looked around to check where Mr. Robinson was, and he was nowhere to be seen. Fuck, he had left. Why didn't I hear him leaving? Why didn't it wake me?

I looked through the peephole to see who was waking me up at 7 in the morning, and lo and behold, it was my fucking husband.

My husband, those words now disgusting to me.

I didn't want to let him in, but I didn't want him to keep disturbing the neighbors. I was so angry and exasperated that I opened the door.

He marched in like he owned the place, and the door clicked behind him. He had a crazy look in his eyes, and he was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

He looked me up and down, checking me; his eyes on me felt like a violation. "What?!" I snapped at him.

"What do you mean, what?! You leave me behind to take that bumbling idiot with you. I wait for you all night, and nothing—no text, no call—you don't return. How could you do this to me? I made a mistake, and I'm sorry, Cara Mia. Just come back; I'll compensate him; I'll put this behind us. Please, come back." He begged and pleaded while I watched him. To me, he seemed as offensive as a bed bug.

He was disgusting and pathetic. I couldn't believe I had allowed myself to have feelings for this man. It made my skin crawl to think that I had slept with him. He wasn't sorry to have done it; he wasn't sorry to have violated my trust, my privacy, and our contract. He was only like that because he got caught and I had escaped his clutches.

He took my hand, and I couldn't stand it, so I snatched it away. "You can keep your fucking fake apology. A mistake?! A mistake is bringing sparkling water instead of water, not crossing one of my major boundaries. Did fucking me make you think that all of a sudden, you didn't have to respect me and I'd just accept anything for your pretty eyes? Get out; you sicken me; I don't want to see you anymore."

His eyes darkened at my word; if I were still as naive as before, I might have found that sexy. He advanced towards me like a predator stalking his prey. "YOU'RE MINE, MY WIFE! Excuse me for wanting to protect what is mine! We are a truly married couple now, so there is no need for this distance that you put between us at the start. We can certainly talk more about it, but now that we've gotten closer, I don't see the need for keeping mine and your things separate. You're married to the boss of the Italian mafia; you knew that when you went into this marriage and when you promised yourself to me a few nights ago. I don't understand why you're doing all of this over a silly man." He tries to cup my face, but I turn around. "Or are you fucking him? Is that why?"

"Wouldn't you know better?" I spit out the words with such venom: "Apparently, I'm just a fucking possession to you; you stalk me, you violate my boundaries, and then you have the audacity to play the dotting husband. I can't even look at you, Aurelio. I don't need this sexist male alpha bullshit; if you think it's going to work on me, you have another thing coming. Fuck off out of my apartment and out of my fucking life; we're done," I say as I push him out.

"Don't you dare come back and take your fucking guards with you" I scream as the door shuts.

I think what I said shocked him greatly, which explains why he got him out so easily.

I get a text from him immediately after: "It will never be over between us, Cara Mia; you're my wife forever. In time, you'll come back, and I'll make sure of that. But for now, I'll let you calm down."

I'm even more riled up now, so I go to the gym. Boxing will surely help calm me down a bit.

The next day, I go back to the mansion to pack a bag. Leonardo watches me; he looks resigned and sad. I try not to look at him; I feel too guilty about leaving him behind. They're his father's sins, not his, but I can't just take him with me. It breaks my heart that he will be left alone in this huge, bleak house again.

For the next few days, I can feel Aurelio's gaze on my back whenever I go out in public. Things escalate after I send him divorce papers; they come back torn, and gifts start showing up wherever I go: roses, clothes, bags, and jewelry.

After two weeks of his constant love letters and gifts, I make the decision to come back.

I text him that I'll be back the next evening for he and I to have a conversation and see if we can move forward from all of this.

All day, I get ready, get my hair done, buy new clothes, and get a facial done. I pack my bag, and as a small surprise, I want to be as ready and stunning as possible.

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