9
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"Memories can be the cruelest form of torture,"
That's what Mama used to say when the burden of being strong became overwhelming for her. There were moments when her steel strength would waver, allowing vulnerability and pain to cast faint shadows on her face.
During those times, Mama would withdraw into herself, seeking refuge beneath a blanket for hours on end. When it first began, I was just five years old, and I was so frightened that she was dead that I cried almost the entire time she remained still beneath the covers.
I thought that he had taken it too far and killed her, which was also why I thought he had left and didn't appear for hours.
After fifteen hours, Mama rose from her fetal position on the bed, her eyes filled with fear as she looked at me. My eyes were bloodshot from crying all day, tears staining my small cheeks.
I can still vividly recall the look of terror that washed over my mother's face as she struggled to push the covers off her weakened body, stumbling with each step she took towards me as I sat in the corner of the room, too afraid to approach her, convinced she was dead.
To comfort me, she enveloped my small, trembling body in her arms and gently stroked my arms while repeatedly telling me how sorry she was. Her apologies caused more tears to spill from my eyes, despite the stinging sensation they left behind.
I couldn't miss the tremble of her own body, the way her heartbeats were thundering against my ear. I wanted to tell her that it wasn't her fault. I wanted to be there for her so she wouldn't need to retreat into her mind. But all I could do was cry in her warm embrace and make a silent promise to be by her side if she ever slipped into that state again.
And she did.
Two years later, as I lay beside her in our new bed after yet another episode, I whispered, "Why do you go away like that, Mama?" She tensed behind me upon hearing the question, and I instantly regretted it, considering denying that I had ever asked.
But then she spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper, "Memories can be the cruelest form of torture, baby," she tightened her hold around me, drawing me closer, "and that's why I took you away and left. I won't ever let you endure that same torture, never."
That was eleven years ago, but neither of us could have foreseen that despite Mama's desperate efforts to shield me from the pain that only time could inflict, one girl, one serpent, would poison my thoughts just as one man had before her.
She was someone that I looked up to as an elder sister, I respected her like one, admired her like one, loved her like one, and allowed her entry into my life.
And what did she do? She took it upon herself to teach me a harsh life lesson: actions have consequences.
Because I had opened my heart to someone undeserving, that man reached my Mama and took her life.
Pearl, my best friend, my big sister, the girl that Mama accepted because she was my first friend, turned out to be working with an abusive, malicious, and cruel man, who seeks destruction similar to the way his body seeks oxygen—my biological father.
Seeing her again today triggered a rush of emotions, particularly anger, rushing in like flashing red visions flooding my brain, controlling my every breath and action.
That's why I'm standing here, gun in hand, my body coated in blood, Pearl lying lifeless at my feet, and Alessandro's grip firm on my wrist – the events leading to this moment, a fog in my memory.
I had a total blackout; I experienced a complete sensory shutdown.
Gradually, the scene unfolded in my mind, each detail registering one after the other. In a ripple effect, my senses returned—I felt her dirty blood clinging to me, sensed Alessandro's pulse syncing with mine, and grasped the weight of the gun in my hand.
Looking at her, a sense of relief for my revenge mingled with a touch of surprise at the stark image before me. While vengeance was my aim, the outcome unfolded in an uglier way, that I hadn't fully anticipated. Despite it all, a chilling, merciless smile curved my lips. Why? Because she was finally gone. One down, just one more to go.
The whole mess of noise and jumbled sounds just faded away, and suddenly, I could hear Alessandro's voice asking over and over, "Hey, Princesa, can you hear me?"
"Yeah!" I nod.
"Are you okay?" He intrigued, scanning my face, but there was no concern in his eyes whatsoever. Actually, it was more like a twisted amusement shining through.
"Am I, ok?" I asked, confused, wondering why he was all concerned about me instead of Pearl, or, you know, asking why I did what I did.
Too cautious to pry into why he found all of this amusing, I didn't ask.
Like he didn't believe it; he kept shifting his gaze from one of my eyes to the other, like he was waiting for a different answer. That reaction managed to annoy me as the revenge high wore off.
I yanked my arm free from his grip, trying not to be too rough and trigger his maniacal psychotic amusement. I tossed the gun at Pearl's lifeless form and headed for the door, ready to leave.
"But who could have thought?" I hear him say behind me, as I continue on my path to the exit.
"The princesa, Clarisa," He said it with a mocking tone, making me stop in my tracks and turn to face him.
He pointed at Pearl, or rather, what used to be Pearl. "Could manage to pull a masterpiece like that."
I mentally flinched. He really struck the head of the nail there.
It wasn't what I did to the girl; it was the fact that it amused someone like Alessandro Galletti, a psychopath. He usually keeps it under wraps, but at dinner, when his dad cautioned him about any disturbing plans he might have, that confirmed it for me: he's a psychopath.
And the realization that I was the one providing that amusement made me recoil.
But in true me style, I couldn't resist running my mouth and talking back. "So what are you saying? That you thought a normal princesa, like you rightly pointed out would dare talk back to the oh-so-mighty soon-to-be don?" I said, making sure to lace my tone with mockery, which earned me a raise of his dark brow.
"No," he uttered, drawing out the silence long enough for me to wear a smug expression and prepare a retort. But just as I opened my mouth to reply, he continued, "I simply thought you were a five-foot imbecile, not a formidable princess."
And there it was, the historic moment when I found myself speechless for the first time ever. It wasn't so much what he said but the way he delivered it, making me believe, even for a moment, that I had won this little verbal tug of war.
Shaking off my shock, I flashed back to him calling me five feet. "Wait just a fucking minute! I'm not five foot! I'm actually five foot five," I declared. "And just so you know, that's two inches above the average height for females. Plus, didn't we already have this conversation before?"
He nonchalantly shakes his head in denial, "No." I narrow my eyes at him, scoff, and throw my hands up. "You know what? I've had it!'" I applaud him sarcastically. "Congratulations, little Alessandro. I'm leaving, bye."
"No, the fuck you are not."
I've never spun around so quickly, because no man gets away with sassing me like that. "You'll be amazed by the way I walk out of this room."
"I beg to differ because you won't be leaving this room until you dispose of whatever that girl has been reduced to now."
"Oh," I say.
"Yeah! now come on get rid of her." he snaps his fingers at me.
"if you wish to keep those fingers then never snap them at me again." I point my finger at him, "Weren't you the one who was literally inside of her moments ago? so technically, it's on you to take care of her since, because, it's kind of your fault if you think about it."
"That whole sentence is so off, but let's begin with the most obvious part," "He stands up, and to my shock, he's completely naked. Only then do I realize he wasn't wearing a top, not only that, but he was covering himself with the bed sheets."
He grabs his still very hard, veiny, and oh-so thick dick in his palm to grab my attention to it "She did me dirty. Even though she came too many times to count, not once did she satisfy me enough for me to finish too. So..."
I cut him off by squealing and turning around. "What the hell, you disgusting lunatic? Put your dick away."
"Already on it, but what's with this virgin-like reaction?" he laughs.
"More like a disgusted reaction—" I retort "I don't want to see your... small dick" I more or less whispered the last part to myself because, who am I kidding? But he doesn't need that extra measurement of confidence.
He chuckled, and I could hear him getting closer. I turned around, and I noticed that he had put the clothes he had earlier back on. I stepped back with each of his advancing steps. "What are you doing, huh? Stay back, boy. I'm serious, Alessandro."
"You don't want to see my dick, huh?" He fixated on that among all the things I said? I guess if you know the truth, lies don't faze you— confident fucker.
He kept getting closer, and I kept inching away until my back hit the door. In an attempt to escape, I twisted around to open it, but before I could, Alessandro slammed his palms on either side of me, sealing the door shut.
I was forced to turn around and face him. I tried my hardest not to lift my head and just use my eyes, but it was a futile attempt. Eventually, I gave in and raised my head to meet his gaze. A sly smile spread across his lips, and I was certain it was because he knew exactly what I was attempting to do.
"Don't fucking smile like that, it's annoying." I clutched my hands to the sides of my dress, not knowing what to do with them within this proximity.
He kept that stupid grin on his face and lowered his face until we were eventually face to face and our noses were almost touching. He looked at my lips, and he had this look in his eyes, but before I could figure out what it was, he leaned in and dropped closer to my ear and whispered, "Princesa," sending shivers down my spine.
"Back off," I muttered, trying to play it cool when I was anything but. I pressed my hands against his chest, attempting to shove him away and reclaim my personal bubble. Bad move. Turns out, his chest wasn't just for show – it was like pushing against a fucking brick wall. And to make matters worse, his right hand decided to drop low on my hip, getting way too cozy and dangerously close to my ass.
This was a total invasion of personal space in progress.
Before I could even open my mouth to give him a piece of my mind or demand he remove his hand, he said, "Usually, when someone doesn't want to see something, they get grossed out, not all worked up." His face was nestled in the curve of my neck, lips just close enough to tickle my nerves with his breath. I was losing my grip, senses on overload, but I managed to snap back, "What? I'm grossed out."
He chuckled, which did absolutely nothing to help my situation. "So, you're telling me that if I reach beneath your dress and rip the flimsy white material not even covering your ass—which you call underwear—and I shove my fingers inside of you, you won't be soaking wet?"
My hold on his shirt got tighter, and I shook my head defiantly. "No, I won't," I insisted. He just snorted, firing back, "Okay, let's test that." Without a hint or any heads-up about what was coming next, he pushed between my stubbornly closed thighs with his knee and locked eyes with me.
I felt he was seeking permission, and for some reason, I didn't say no or resist—I just met his gaze, unable to break away. His left hand trailed hot along my bare thigh, while his other palm yanked me closer until my slouched body leaned against his. And yet, despite it all, I was still not fighting back or uttering a word to stop him. He kept holding my gaze, and I was just there, unable to react.
As his fingers crept closer, my heart went into overdrive, and suddenly, I was hyper-aware of everything. He was right—I was ridiculously turned on, and yeah, my underwear was soaked. But I'd sooner drop dead than let him know that.
"Stop," I murmured into his chest, and just like that, the tantalizing sensation, the buildup—it all halted as his hand froze mid-movement. Unbeknownst to me, in a desperate attempt to ease the ache, I was involuntarily grinding against his knee. When I realized and stopped, I could practically feel his smug grin hovering above me, so I stubbornly refused to meet his gaze.
I was still tucked against his chest, and he said, "So, am I right?" I clamped down on my bottom lip, knowing full well he was onto me, but I wasn't giving him the full win. "Nope," I fired back, "This is just a regular bodily response to something sensual. But let me be clear: I am absolutely not turned on by you, under any circumstances."
He chuckled, stubbornly sticking to his claim as if my words never even hit his ears. "So, I win," he declared, taking a step back and leaving me to notice the absence of his warmth pressed against me.
In a hushed voice that I thought he wouldn't catch, I muttered, "Hmph, whatever." But of course, he heard it all.
"I heard that, and just so we're clear, that's what losers say," he retorted, not missing a beat.
"I'm heading to my room, not 'cause you won, but because you're crazy and will never admit how wrong you are," I shot back. If he was stubborn, I was doubling down on that stubbornness.
"Oh, and did you forget about getting rid of our friend here?"
Oh, shit, yeah.
"Can't you deal with her yourself?" I fired at him.
"Fuck no. This is your mess, and if you didn't want Aldo knowing about it, then you'd better handle it and clean up your own mess," he retorted sharply.
"Are you threatening me? Plus, if I do that, Dad is gonna find out, so your threats aren't worth shit," I countered, and we locked eyes in a silent standoff, a routine I've noticed happening way too often between us.
He huffed and finally relented, "Fine, I'll help, but you're in this with me."
I smirked in triumph, "Oh really? And what's your plan?"
"We bury her," he declared.
I gasped in shock, "Are you out of your fucking mind?"
He looked genuinely confused, "Should we burn her instead?"
"No, Alessandro, that's not what I meant. I'm not touching that girl, let alone burying her," I retorted, running my hand through my curls. "Just get your guys to handle this and clean your room. And since you're so keen on me being part of it, I'll stick around, but I'll be hiding in the bathroom. I don't want those guys snitching to Dad that I was here, or I'd never hear the end of it."
He took a moment to ponder, then settled into some fancy chair. "Fine, but you stay in the room with me. If those guys even breathed in your direction, I'd make sure they regret it. I will give them a fair warning, of course."
"Is this some sort of game to you?" I challenged, crossing my arms.
He didn't even deny it, flashing a grin. "Probably. So, what do you say?"
"Fine," I muttered, avoiding his gaze and scanning the room. I refused to sit on the bed for obvious reasons, so the only options are the floor or, the chair beside Alessandro.
Such a big room, yet nowhere to sit?
Opting for the floor, as I lowered myself, I caught a mix of amusement and irritation on his face before he harshly commanded, "Come here!" pointing to the chair I blatantly rejected.
"If you won't, I'll come to you. So, decide: me next to you, uncomfortable on the floor, or me next to you, but at least you'll be comfy on the chair," he threatened.
Grumbling, I relented and made my way to the chair, unwilling to entertain this back-and-forth any longer.
"Hey, princesa," he began, and I shot back, "What?" annoyed and purposefully avoiding eye contact.
"It's Aless, not Alessandro. Nobody calls me that," he stated, looking at me.
I couldn't help but smile, knowing I was about to annoy him. "Well..." I feigned consideration, "I do, so Alessandro it is unless you'd prefer 'piece of shit' instead." That's when we dived right into another one of our stare-offs.
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So what do you guys think?
Like I said this is my first time writing a book and this version is the edited version.
Please give me any thoughts on how I can improve. Is there things you want me to add?
If you guys want to know the build up to what had happened in this chapter, make sure to read the upcoming chapter that will be in Alessandro's POV.
Thank you for reading. :))
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