"My grandma only had two sons, my father and Gabriele. My dad was the eldest and destined to carry the Armani empire so Gabriele hated him, ultimately hating me too when they found out I was a boy," Luca explains.
He's laying on the chair on the balcony with me on top of him as we watch the stars twinkle in the sky. We're trying to find the Gemini star alignment, as he wanted to. I think he likes stargazing. Cute.
"He's been after my position since my father died. Even then, he was pissed that he got it and not him. And, he has an even bigger reason to hate me because he's surely not going to get it now," Luca rubs his hand over my bump as I let him continue his rant.
I can't help but wonder if Gabriele planned the burglary to kill his brother off. But that wouldn't make sense because Luca would still inherit everything. Screw that thought.
"What about Marco? You seem pretty close with each other," I bring up. I doubt Luca knows about Marco being abused but I need to get it out of him.
"I am. Marco made it clear that he doesn't want to be the leader and that he doesn't like his dad either. He's the one who made me send him back home to Italy, away from all of us," he confirms my suspicions, "until the bastard turns up here unannounced."
Poor Marco. My heart breaks for him because I know how lonely it can be. I had my brother help patch up my wounds but it hurts to think of him doing it to himself.
"He's a fucking outcast. And it aggravates me because, as much as I want to, I can't just tell him to fuck off or kill him without a valid reason. After all, Vescovi will go mad."
Family is an important thing in the mafia and Gabriele is Armani blood.
"Is he going to stay here?" I look back at him, dread seeping in.
"I think so. I know him. If I tell him no, he'll be like this was my house long before you were born and you have no right to kick me out of it," his jaw clenches again and he stares into the distance. I reach up and place a kiss on it, his muscles relaxing.
Luca sits up and faces me forward, again. He brings his head down to mine so our line of sight is the same and points at something in the sky.
"There it is," his hot breath touches my face and he flicks my glasses, "the Gemini."
I squint to see that he's right. The 13 bright stars are all perfectly aligned in their places, illuminating the sky.
"It's so beautiful," I breathe out, mesmerised.
"If only you can see yourself through my eyes, you'd disagree with yourself," he replies softly, tracing the side of my face in tingling lines. I look at him to see his lips raised slightly and love smothered throughout his grey irises.
I swivel in his lap and put my hands behind his neck, resting his forehead on my chest. My fingers catch within the strands of his hair as I feel his calm breaths and I tell him, "I could say the same about you. It's beautiful the way you act when you're around me."
"That's because I'm in love with you. And I'll never ever stop, Rosa," he lifts his head and rests his chin on my cleavage, staring at me intensely, "I'll love you forevermore, till beyond forever."
"I'm so glad you say that too because nothing can change how I feel about you, Luca," I smile at him, flicking his hair off his forehead.
Luca's expression drops and he falters, staring back at me distantly, "not even when you find out the fucked up things I've done?"
Bless him, he's still worried I'll see him as a monster.
"I'm not going to judge you on your past. That's unfair. I only know you for the man you are now but I'm accepting you for the person you think you are," I say and rest my hands on his face.
He looks as if he conflicts with himself, questioning his thoughts. I give him the time to gather the scraps of his mind before he kisses me, slow and perilous.
When we pull away, he keeps his face close sharing the same breath as me and fixes the straps of my dress on my shoulders which seemed to have slid down.
It strikes a memory of Oakley. We were 14 and went to the fair in the park when the straps of my dress ripped. I couldn't fix it and he gave me his flannel shirt to wear while he walked around for the next three hours in just a thin, short-sleeve t-shirt. It started raining but he still wouldn't take it back.
God, I miss him so much.
I haven't accepted it. I don't think I ever will. I know he's gone but my mind is blocking out the part that accepts my life without him.
I hate it. I hate stressing. I hate this depression.
It's bad for my baby. Anxiety ran through me and I searched for what it could do. It can lead to neurodevelopment issues such as ADHD and worse, a stillborn. That's why I can't just stay in bed crying about him all day no matter how empty I feel from his absence.
I pick myself up, get ready and keep my head high. I'm strong. I can do this for my child.
From the memory of Oak, a thought pops up in my head and I ask, "can we open a care home for kids?"
"Isn't it the same as an orphanage?" Luca responds, pulling away so we can speak.
"Yeah but, the one Oak grew up in was horrible and he kept switching but they were all as bad as each other. I want to help kids like him by giving them the right beginnings and making them feel loved when they think the whole world is against them," I explain, sitting comfortably on his lap.
"You have a heart made of gold, bellissima," his eyes twinkle, "makes me fall in love with you even more."
I blush, profusely and use my hair to hide it. To my dismay, he brushes my hair off my shoulders, displaying my red cheeks.
"You have my credit card, right? If you need more money let me know," he says.
I nod my head, "but I'm going to use his money. He gave everything to me knowing that I would do something like this. It's a nice honorary."
The Oak Shelter. In memory of Oakley Atkins. I can already imagine that on a board. Okay, maybe not that name. I'll think of something.
"Where are you going to open it?"
I furrow my eyebrows in pondering before jumping up, "ooh, how about the villa on the Faire Coast? It's big enough and it's on the beach too. Kids love the beach."
"Perfect," he smiles, brushing my hair back, "you're going to be a magnificent mother to our children."
"And you're going to be a fantastic father," I reassure him and again something flickers in his eyes before he grimaces. Luca checks his watch and slides me off his lap so he can stand.
"Are you going out?" I ask, crossing my legs as I watch him adjust his collar and shirt in the reflection of the window.
"Yeah, I'll be back at 10. Unless you're going to sleep earlier?" He glances back at me.
I can't sleep without him. I'd wake up thinking I'm still covered in Oakley's blood from that night. So every night, he's been putting me to sleep. It's nice to finally have someone care for you after years of caring for others.
I shake my head, "10 is fine. If I get tired, I'll message you."
"When I'm back," he turns to me with a crooked smirk plastered onto his face as he drags his eyes over my body, inflaming every inch his gaze touches. Luca stalks over to me and leans down to my ear whispering a lot of coarse and dirty things into it. My eyes widen the more he speaks and I gape.
I think my water broke because I'm soaked right now.
"Mouth closed, bellissima," he clams my mouth shut and innocently kisses my cheek, "save it for later."
He leaves and I'm forced to jump in the shower. I forget to tie my hair up so I end up accidentally wetting it. Ugh, great, I really can't be bothered to blow dry it. It takes me like 15 minutes. I'm just going to let it air dry.
With Luca gone, I can finally confront Marco about everything. I want him to know he's not alone and I'm here for him. It's easier to talk to someone who has been through it.
I find my phone and scroll through my recent contacts trying to find his. Erm, what the hell?
Baby Daddy Ahh😩😩😩
Branny the Fanny😒
CrayCray MayMay🤪
Oak💗🕊️
Sexiest Man Alive😘
Marco. Honestly, this guy.
Now, it makes sense why his behaviour can come off as 'childish' to some people because his trauma prevented him from growing up fully. I inhale a sharp breath to stop myself from crying.
Hey, can you bring me a drink up please?
As I wait for him to reply, I run the towel through my hair, patting the strands of it as I sit cross-legged on my bed.
Sexiest Man Alive😘: yeah sure
His reply is not immediate and is very out of character for him. Usually, he'd say something like jeez, Rosalie. Thirsty much? with a wink emoji.
I lay back on the bed and wait for him to knock, talking to the baby while I wait. When there's a knock, I call for them to enter but no one does. Instead, I hear growling and a man cursing under his breath before I hear his retreating footsteps.
The growling is Ricky, who Luca must've let in before he went. And the man was most likely his uncle. But, what would he want with me?
I send a silent thank you to Luca for anticipating this. He must've known his uncle was going to try to come and see me so he put Ricky outside my door earlier. Normally, he lets Ricky in after I've fallen asleep.
Again, I hear the growling and a loud, girly shriek. That's definitely Marco.
There's a muffled I'm her friend, Master Ricky said in a very slow way as if he's speaking to a child. He knocks, hesitantly, and I call for him to enter.
"Damn, can you tell your security to back off?" Marco enters pointing over his shoulder then clears his throat, "room service for Mrs Armani."
"My security does not understand English, no matter how slow you speak to him," I roll my eyes with a laugh then mock scowl at him, "and I'm not Mrs Armani."
Even though I wish I was.
"Yet," he winks, "if it were up to me I would've put diamonds on you ages ago."
"You mean, these diamonds," I hold my arm up showing him the bracelet and then point to the diamond-studded earrings Luca bought me the day after he asked me to be his official girlfriend, "or these?"
I love diamonds. The whole dainty, delicate yet elegant look of them entices me.
"I could do so much better than that," he scoffs. I gesture for him to shut the door behind him and he turns to me, mortified.
"I am not going to hook up with you, Rosalie! You are in an overly committed relationship with my scary cousin!" He gasps holding a hand to his forehead, "romance has officially died! I thought you love him."
"No, Marco. It's you. It's been you all this time," I play along and add a melodramatic undertone to my voice.
"But wait," he suddenly runs over placing the glass on the bedside table and sitting in front of me, "what about the child?"
I grab his hands and rest them on my bump then hover my hands over his face so I'm not touching him and declare, "it's yours."
He recoils, theatrically gasping and clutching his hand over his heart. Marco flits his eyes between mine and the baby bump, before casting them away and pressing a hand on his forehead.
"Oh, Rosalie. My sweet, sweet Rosalie," Marco says and slowly starts to lean towards me.
Just as he's about to get a little too close, he shrinks back, exclaiming, "and then it cuts to the couple heavily making out and then dramatic sex with her like shrieking and moaning and gasping."
Oh my gosh.
"We should be cast in a telenovela. We're spectacular!" He does a chef's kiss and I laugh, clutching my belly.
"So," he drawls the syllable out, "what's up?"
I reach for the glass while he sorts out the pillows behind me and I raise an eyebrow at him, "don't what's up me, Mr Sexiest Man Alive kiss emoji."
"Took you long enough," he rolls his eyes, "I did that like yesterday."
"How did you know my password?" I query.
He scoffs, "it wasn't hard to guess. 0000. Seriously?"
"Hey, my fingers get tired moving around the screen. At least this way it's in one place," I defend.
"Fair point," he shrugs his shoulders and then beams, "oh yeah, did you see the little moan after Baby Daddy? That was my personal favourite. It's the sound I heard when you did the little dirty the other day."
His shoulders dance and my face flames bright red at that. Was I really that loud?
"Wait, you actually did the little dirty? I was just joking!" He exclaims, his shoulders dancing again and then resting his chin in his hands, "give me the deets, girl."
I open my mouth to speak — not about the deets — and he immediately interrupts, shuddering, "actually no. Ew! That's my cousin."
He's overdoing it because he knows why I want to speak with him. Earlier on, he caught me watching him so he knows I saw the fissure in his facade.
"Marco," I inhale a sharp breath to stop from crying, "I want you to know that you're not alone in this. And you might be in denial that's why I'm going to ask...did your dad ever hit you?"
I worded it carefully. I didn't use the word abuse.
He sighs heavily, exhaling all traces of humour from his voice and features and anxiously runs a hand through his hair.
"Yes."
Marco looks at me and I don't see his soft, brown eyes for the first time. I see a younger version of him seeping through the ridges of his irises. I roll my lips in my mouth as the first batch of tears starts to fall.
"He used to verbally and," his chest heaves, "physically abuse me."
Hearing those words makes my ears ring in sirens. My eyes cloud with more tears.
"You're my best friend, Rose. And I would've told you I just-," he pauses, shifting uncomfortably, "I thought that if I did then it would trigger your memories. I-I-I didn't want to hurt you like that."
"But...you were hurting all this time," I wipe under my eyes, "and I couldn't even tell. I should've been able to tell."
"Please don't overthink it. I'd hate for you to stress out too much and hurt the baby because of me," he rubs my arm and gazes at me with so much sincerity and pain but also relief that finally, someone knows.
Again, I see young Marco wincing as he rubs ointment onto his wounds inflicted by the belt and then slowly wraps them up in white gauze. Lastly, he plasters a fake smile on so the world can't see the truth.
I wrap my arms around that young boy wanting to comfort him, reassure him, love him, and help him in every way that I can. Neglect becomes love. But when that's the only card you've been dealt, you find a friend in the loneliness.
"H-," he clears his throat, "how did you tell Lucas about it?"
"I didn't. He found out from the way I acted when my dad was mentioned," I respond resting back on the soft pillow, "he doesn't know exactly what he did to me. You know what he's like, he'll just get angry and do something that would make me feel guilty. So, I spared him the gruesome details."
"I want to tell you what happened. Can you-," he fiddles with his fingers nervously and shakes his head, "is that okay?"
"Of course, Marco. And if at any point you need to stop, that's completely fine," I smile empathetically and beckon him over, "come a little closer, though. I wanna grab your hand but I need to lean my back against something."
He laughs lightly, not the Marco way, and scoots closer to me placing his hand in my palm.
"Growing up, I was constantly compared to Lucas. He was intellectually smart and excelled in everything but I was dumb and a failure. My dad despised my Uncle Vincenzo and Lucas because they had all the power, not him. He wanted it for himself and wanted me to be better than Lucas so he could get it," his jaw tightens the more he speaks and I notice the resemblance he has to Luca.
Typical. The jealous second-born son.
"I wanted to impress my dad so I tried so hard to study for my tests but I just couldn't concentrate. I was about 12 when it first happened. We did some tests at school and I failed all of them. He was so angry he just got his belt and whacked me straight on the back. It must've felt good for him because he did it again and again and again," he swallows a lump in his throat and my heart drops to my stomach.
"He would drink a lot but that's not an excuse for him to treat his only child like shit," he spits in frustration, "I think he must've abused my mom too because she left when I was quite young. He only ever hit me with the belt, nothing else. But he hardly cared for me or was even around. It would just be me and the maids in a big, empty house. I was alone."
"Luc's mom, Aunt Chiara, was like a mom to me. God rest her kind soul," he does the Cross with his hands, pointing to the ceiling, and I do the same, "she asked how I was doing in school and I told her that I was failing and how I couldn't see straight. She took me for an examination and they diagnosed me with dyslexia. It made so much sense to me. But I knew that I couldn't tell my dad because it would anger him even more."
He's dyslexic.
"Then, that summer, I came here for a weekend and Aunt Chiara saw the marks on my back. I ended up telling her everything. She was so worried for me. She told me how she always hated my dad. I begged her not to tell anyone because at the end of the day he was still my dad and I was used to it by now. So, she went straight to Uncle Vincenzo and demanded that I stay with them from now on."
"So I did. My dad kept trying to get me back but she denied and would literally sleep in my room so he didn't come in and take me. But, she died the next summer when I was 13 and there was nothing in my dad's way. He took me back. He beat me while I was grieving her. He beat me while I was failing school," Marco chokes on a sob and I rub his arm soothingly while trying to control my own tears.
"Do you think that he..." I trail off not needing to end that sentence. He could've killed Luca's mom.
"No," he sniffles, shaking his head, "I thought that too. Especially with what happened to Luc. But Vescovi would've killed him if they found out he did that to his own nephew."
My curiosity peaks. What happened to him?
"I dealt with it, there was nothing else I could do and nowhere else I could go. Then when I was 17, Uncle Vincenzo died and my dad went crazy. He thought this was finally his shot but then he heard about the reputation Lucas, who was about 21, made for himself and knew he didn't stand a chance. I dropped out of high school, as I was failing anyway, and moved in here."
"And Luca let you?" I ask.
"Of course, he's my brother. We've always had a good relationship," Marco responds lifting the hem of his t-shirt to dry his eyes, "family is very important to him and in a way, I was the last that he had."
"Does anyone else know about this?"
Marco shakes his head, "only you."
"I'm sorry, Marco. I'm so sorry you had to go through that," I whisper unable to find my voice and this time hug the strong adult Marco in front of me. His arms tighten around me, lovingly.
"Me too. We didn't deserve any of it," he says with a crack in his voice then snuggles further into me. I feel the coolness of water dropping onto my shoulder and my heart clenches to know that Marco's crying.
We didn't deserve it. I always used to question God, why me? What have I done wrong to deserve all these bad things that have happened to me?
I waited and waited and waited for the answer until I finally got it. If I wasn't abused by Ricardo then he would've believed that Pedro assaulted me and not forced me to marry him, meaning I wouldn't have fled to Europe and then came back, meeting the love of my life.
Though, would I have met him sooner? I think it's easier this way because my father isn't fully in the equation. I'm free to love Luca without any boundaries or fear. Whereas, the other way would've been us sneaking around and then the risk of what Ricardo would've done when he found out.
This way is not ideal but so much better for my mental health.
"It's always the nicest people who get hurt the most," I smile sadly when he pulls away and he reciprocates it.
Marco's brown eyes are puffy as they brew the last of tears and he stares at me deeply before declaring, "I hate to imagine a world without you and Lucas but if it ever gets to that, I'll make sure your children grow up with the love we never got."
"Same here. I'm glad you finally got it out and told someone," I hold his dear face in my hand and rub my thumb over his cheek.
"Wanna be my rebound if my wife turns out abusive to my kids?" He raises an eyebrow with a slight smugness. He seriously needs to up his flirting dark humour game.
"Sorry not sorry, I don't take sloppy seconds," I press a hand to my heart and puff out my chest proudly.
Marco deflates with a pout and huffs childishly standing up from the bed. He turns back to me before leaving the room and flails his arms around, exclaiming, "you and me, Rosalie, we're done! Finished! La fine! Nothing!" [the end]
Yep, Marco's back and I couldn't have been more thrilled to see this side of him. It broke my heart to see him so broken.
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My poor Marco. I love Marco and Roses's friendship though. Totally see them reenacting scenes from telenovelas together at 2 am.
Hope you enjoyed this chapter, Sophia <3