Waking up the next morning, I could only think of one thing and one thing only.
Griffin.
I could feel him, everywhere. My skin tingled with his lingering touch, my mouth stung from his nipping and impossibly deep kisses. My neck and chest tingled in awareness of the memory of his light stubble grazing the soft skin.
When I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw the light red evidence of him marking my skin. I trace the fading marks, my stomach filled with butterflies stinging with how many there are.
For the first time in my life, I couldn't stop looking at myself. I look so happy, my skin glowing, lips red with sweet abuse. I look content, I felt his want for me. And it's making me look at myself with a new found appreciation.
So fucking sexy, amor. So beautiful.
I smile.
It's not that I need male validation, I've had plenty before. But something about his touch, his words, the way he worshipped my body. It all made me smile at myself like a crazy person.
I tear my eyes away from my reflection long enough to shower and change into a pretty yellow sundress for the day. I put on some light makeup, I am not sure what we're doing today so I just go for something natural. I also cover up the light red hickeys with a mix of foundation and concealer.
They were light red, not blue or purple so they could easily pass for a rash if someone saw and asked about them.
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I walk down the hall from my room to where I know my parents are staying and knock.
"Hi principessa." My dad smiles, kissing the top of my head as he leads me into the room. "Why did you leave early last night? I was worried." He asks as I sit on a sofa near the window.
My face heats. "I wasn't feeling well, I was tired too so I decided to leave early." I casually say. "Where's mom?"
"She's in the shower, she should be out soon." he says. "So, what's the plan to come back. We miss having you at home." He smiles.
My smile falters. Home. I have to go back home.
"Oh, I haven't really thought about that." I force a smile. "I love my job here, and Italy is just so beautiful and summery. I just feel so happy here." I beam.
He chuckles. "I can see that. You're glowing." he comments. "I am staying for a few weeks, Marco has something coming he wants me here for. I have some things to take care of aswell." He smooths his jacket out.
"Mom's not-"
"Oh hey, how are you feeling honey?" Mom asks, stepping out of the bathroom in a long dress. I stand up to hug her and we sit down on the couch together.
"Im okay. Why aren't you staying if dad is?" I ask her.
"Oh honey, you know I have the restraunt. And I don't really have so much to do here. And Emilio wants to stay almost a month, I really wish I could but that's pushing it." She scrunches up her nose.
"But how are you going to stay alone?" I ask her.
"I'm not, Carla is coming down from San Francisco this weekend, I was reluctant to come here at all but I wanted to see you." she gushes, pinching my nose. I laugh. Aunty Carla is my moms sister.
"I thought we could do something fun today, I guess not. When are you flying out?" I ask.
She tells me she's leaving tomorrow and we decide to get lunch and shop around the Via del Corso. It was my favorite place to shop and I really wanted to take my mom. Some of my best memories with her are us shopping around.
My day goes by in a blur of great food, luxury stores and lots of shopping. But amongst all of the fun and talking, he was always at the back of my mind.
Green eyes and crisp suits were my new constant.
GRIFFIN
"Who are you! What do you want from me!?" The battered man screams.
A smirk makes it's way onto my face.
"You don't find the couch comfortable? How unfortunate." I snarl, looking at his pathetic form tied up to the couch. The same couch my Ariel felt violated on. Felt scared.
Fresh icy fury douses my blood.
The crack of my fist meeting this fuckers jaw rips through the air.
"I didn't do shit man, I don't even know you!" He howls in pain.
"Ariel Russo." The name softens some of the burning fire in my body, but it returns ten fold at the glint of recognition in his dirty eyes.
"That bitch? You're torturing me to death for that court dragging harlot?!" My vision blurs with fury as I punch him again and again till his face is beaten to pulp and his head falls back.
"Who do we have here?" Damon's voice echoes through the concrete walls of the empty room when he enters.
I rub a hand over my knuckles. I do not usually indulge in sucker punching my prey. But this one personally pissed me off.
"Henry Lakes. And his office couch." The armed man at the gate informs him.
"His couch? You flew in a couch from America?" Damon inquires, pulling on leather gloves.
"I did. Is that a problem."
"No, you might just be crazier than Ares is." He snarks.
"Why are you here Damon." I ask as I survey the half conscious, pathetic man, then at the vast range of tools at my disposal all for his torment.
"I heard we had someone down here, I am a little offended I didn't get called to have a crack at 'em" he mock pouts at the bastard.
Damon is one peculiar man. He is sunshine and rainbows everywhere except inside this room. He has the ability to annihilate a man with his bare hands, while being a picture perfect CEO and gentleman infront of the world.
"This one is personal. You can have the bones and the flesh. But the last breath is mine. And I won't be taking it, for a long, torturous while." I warn, walking out of the room. The stench of blood and sweat was making me heady.
"Thanks." He calls out sarcastically, behind me.
I head into the shower in the warehouse. Aaron was right to push for it, it makes itself useful every day.
