Xenia Butler
With Basil's number now finally blocked, I shifted my focus back to my work, determined to pick up where I left off before the investor's rude interruption.
Leaving the hotel behind, I also left behind any notion of using Basil to provoke a reaction from Romano. The brief thrill of toying with him had lost its appeal, and I no longer saw the point in indulging his attempts to engage with me. After all, he was thousands of miles away in the US, and our interactions felt increasingly hollow and meaningless. Laughing at his jokes or divulging personal details about myself seemed like a pointless charade now.
As I typed my response to Vera Lenci's email about Snapping Point, a sudden shout pierced through the air: "You know I wouldn't give it to you. You've managed three days without it, so push harder!"
Quickly setting my phone aside, I bolted from my seat and dashed to the other window to see what was happening.
A knot of apprehension twisted in my stomach as I observed Romano and Kate standing uncomfortably close, engaged in what appeared to be a heated discussion.
With tension gripping my gut, I continued to watch them. Romano's hand rested on her in a manner that felt all too familiar to me. I strained to hear their conversation, pushing the window open slightly.
I couldn't tear my eyes away. Romano's touch seemed possessive, as if he knew her body intimately. But then again, didn't he?
My heart sank as I noticed tears welling up in her eyes. She appeared visibly distressed, nervously scratching her hair. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach as I considered the possibility that their argument might be related to what Romano and I had done the previous night.
Had she overheard something and now found herself upset enough to confront it?
"It wasn't until last night that I started feeling this way. It's getting worse," she coughed out and eyed Romano pleadingly. "I'm begging you..." Her posture seemed to collapse, as if she were a marionette bowing before him. "You're going to kill me."
I gasped. My hand flew to cover my mouth. What was I hearing? What had happened between them last night? Was it her feelings for him getting worse? The jealousy she had been struggling to deny? And why did Romano stand so rigidly over her, like her pleas were something he had heard or seen before? He didn't even flinch at her display of vulnerability, and that realization made me deeply uneasy.
Who was this man, really?
The words "You're going to kill me" echoed in my mind. Kill her? The taste of bile rose in my throat, my eyes widening in shock. I wanted to rush down there to get the full story, but I was glued to the unfolding scene from my vantage point.
With ease, Romano lifted her up, though she seemed to struggle to remain still, likely due to her distress or pain. As he steadied her, she trembled, seemingly overwhelmed by Romano's firm and authoritative handling.
Then, to add insult to injury, they kissed passionately for several seconds before Katie pulled away, her gaze filled with longing as she uttered, "I'm sorry." Romano, perhaps softened by her apology, lifted her chin to meet his gaze. My God, I felt myself breaking out in a sweat. Anger and disgust bubbled up inside me, threatening to overflow.
"I'm sorry," she repeated, and their lips met again. A lump formed in my throat, my body going rigid with shock.
Why?
I knew they were involved, likely sneaking around behind my back to indulge themselves while pretending I was the cherished one. But why had Romano come up here yesterday to deceive me, to touch me and attempt to sleep with me when he really desired her?
Tears welled up in my eyes, burning fiercely as they spilled down my cheeks, a painful reminder of my own foolishness.
Romano kissed her fervently, his hands gripping her neck from behind to deepen the kiss, oblivious to my presence as I watched helplessly.
Kate seemed to slow down, breaking free from his lips but not his touch. I saw her lips move again, and though faint, I heard her words clearly. "Would you indulge me, Romano?" My eyes widened, waiting for Romano to push her away, to yell at her to stop, or to simply walk away. But instead, he waited to hear the rest of her request. "Yes, please. If you won't give me the drug, don't deny me you."
The words echoed in my ears, painfully reminding me that it was a fool's hope to think Romano and I could ever find common ground with Kate still in the picture.
The drug? What drug? Abortion pills?
So he was insisting she kept the pregnancy, and she was willingly blackmailing him.
"Let me abort the baby or sleep with me?"
Was that it? Christ!
Kate Hewitt was more than a manipulative liar. She was a schemer, telling me she had no interest in him while luring him into an ultimatum he seemed all too willing to accept.
But I had foolishly hoped he wouldn't cave, and now I was paying the price for my naivety. Romano kissed her again, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around him. They disappeared from view, consumed by their passion, leaving me alone with my shattered illusions.
As my first instinct urged me to hurry downstairs and peek from the kitchen, I swung open my door, only to freeze as I heard another door close nearby. Another door followed suit after the fading echo of retreating footsteps.
I cautiously tiptoed to the stairs and leaned over the railing to peer down, but I saw nothing. However, I heard something—the immediate sound of his playlist taking over the speakers in his room.
The music would drown out every other sound—the sound of his groans or her moans and remnants of her requests.
The nausea rose in my throat, and my heart pounded with a mix of hatred, anger, and pain.
"Careful or you're going to fall!"
That caution snapped me back to reality.
"Jesus Christ!" I gasped, startled by the sudden interruption. Turning, I saw Renata standing in the hallway, her expression one of confusion. I could tell she was wondering why I was peering down the stairs so intently.
"I lost my pen," I lied quickly, trying to come up with a plausible excuse. "I was just trying to see if it fell."
"Oh, I have another one," Renata offered, gesturing for me to follow her. "Come on, it's somewhere in the room here."
Fuck!
I cursed inwardly, following her hesitantly, but keeping my entire thoughts on what could possibly be going on in that sinful corner of his room.
$$$
Romano De Rossi
With a quick flick of my wrist, I closed the door and gently set Kate down. I hovered, unsure of what to do next, while she looked around, clearly feeling lost and uncertain. I shared in her uncertainty.
So much had changed between Kate and me, changes I never anticipated, and it was my fault for not planning ahead. I had spent five months in search of one woman, and in that time, I had deepened my connection with another. Now that I had found the woman I was searching for, undoing my actions, damaging our connection, seemed as daunting as convincing myself to give up my gun—nearly impossible.
First things first, I set the stage for her by turning on some music, selecting a song from the club. I wasn't sure why I did it, but something compelled me to take her back to place we mostly met.
Standing in the middle of my room now, I regarded Kate with a sense of confusion, uncertain of what to do with her or about her.
Was I drawn to Kate in inexplicable ways? Yes. Was she undeniably beautiful enough to captivate my attention? Absolutely. If Xenia wasn't in the picture, would I hesitate? No. But was she the woman I truly wanted? No. And that woman, the one I desired in all honesty, was somewhere else in this house.
Despite her unawareness of the situation, it didn't feel right to proceed. Not because Xenia was in the dark or would later find out or ask questions. I hesitated because, though my lack of experience in matters of exclusivity from a woman's perspective emerged, I understood it from a man's standpoint. And since I didn't like the idea of sharing her, since the mere thought of her with another man stirred up feelings of jealousy and possessiveness in me, I knew it would likely have a similar effect on her, if not more intense.
Moreover, I was trying to assure her I had the situation under control, trying to burn the rift between us—my actions here would only make things worse. It would lead to a cycle of sneaking around and lying, actions that went against my principles.
So, as Kate scrambled around my space, I struggled to make a decision. I didn't want to reject her and risk her hurting herself or the baby, and I didn't want to indulge her for a very straightforward reason.
"Xenia wouldn't know!" One part of my mind argued, but another reminded me that she was just upstairs. Even if she wouldn't know, she'd still be in the same house while I fucked the same woman I had convinced her wasn't a problem. How much more disgusting could it get?
"Romano," I called myself, with a knowing smile that I had eventually let this situation catch up to me. My father had warned me not to become so enamored with a woman's presence that I lost sight of my true self.
Stepping up to the mirror, I examined my reflection closely. I was truly my father's son. Same eyes, same tone, same voice, same vices. He was an artful manipulator, capable of manipulating my mother into believing that being abused was the only form of correction, that he was her everything.
I may have found a way to convince Xenia why I had acted as I did, if I chose to go through with this here, but it was Kate who I felt deserved to be manipulated. That, in itself, was wretchedness at its peak.
From the reflection in the mirror, I could see her sitting on the armchair, her gaze filled with a hunger I had never witnessed before. She waited patiently, her body trembling with anticipation, the drugs calling out to her with each passing tremor. But despite it all, I couldn't bring myself to fulfill either of her requests.
The music was blasting through my head unforgivingly. I found my phone and went straight to the internet, typing the simple question: "Is Amphetamines dangerous for a pregnant woman?" I stumbled upon two pieces of information that immediately extinguished any possibility of considering such a reckless course of action.
Firstly, the risk of birth defects and developmental delays in the baby was alarming. Secondly, the potential for withdrawal symptoms and addiction in the newborn was equally distressing.
It dawned on me how utterly repugnant it would be to put an innocent baby at risk simply because I lacked the courage to stand up and take responsibility as a man. It was a foolish and reprehensible choice.
"Pussy!" My father's harsh words echoed in my mind. "Told you never to get fixated on a woman no more than you are on power." The voice persisted, its tone warning. "Choose now. Your growing child's life, or the emotions of a naive woman who'd slept with your cousin and rejected you last night."
Rossi's voice reverberated loudly, as if he were standing right behind me. For a moment, I thought I saw him there, laughing at my predicament, mocking my hesitation to even engage with Kate. He taunted me, suggesting that my reluctance to act with her was a sign of weakness and a lack of paternal instinct, since I was considering Xenia more.
Once again, I felt disgusted with myself.
Santo's words from the day he learned that Kate and I were still involved recurred in my mind. "You still fuck the whore? They never know when to call it quits. Your father's story is exactly what you're reliving." I remembered his scornful tone, his accusatory glare, when he had charged at me. "You know nothing about the responsibility of a father!"
I knew what to do. I was sure now. Though wrong, I started it anyway.
"Stand, Kate," I instructed, and she complied promptly, though she fidgeted nervously. She stood before me, one foot held in anticipation of my next direction. Without hesitation, I continued, "Step forward, closer to me."
Swirling around to face her directly, I issued another command while pointing at her dress. "Take it off."
A smile blossomed on her lips, delightful and sweet. "Thank...thank...you."
In the time that she stripped down to just her underwear, I turned her around, running my fingers down her shoulders to ease her nerves. Her hair wasn't as short as before, just a few inches down her neck, but I aggressively swept it up into a bun. I wrapped it around my palm once, twice... and on the third attempt, it was nearly—nearly—impossible. But I squeezed enough to elicit a yelp from her and complete the circle.
She strained as I pulled her head back so I'd be closer to her ear. My hand gripped her left breast and I caressed it, provoking a moan from her. "You're mine to command," I said, kissing the tender skin of her shoulder as she gripped my cock from behind. "I'm going to ravage every inch of you until you're repulsed by the thoughts of other men."
"Yes."
You've been waiting for this, haven't you, Kate?"
She nodded, her composure filled with longing and submission. "Yes, Romano," she whispered. "I've been waiting for you...to...."
I chuckled darkly, reveling in the power I held over her because it was all I needed to make an impact, though I didn't know for how long she had wanted things to get to this point.
"Well then, Kate," I murmured, trailing kisses down her neck. "Let's see just how much you've been waiting for me."
It was crucial to maintain control over her emotions, directing her focus towards past experiences and future expectations. I hoped this strategy would create a calming effect and help her regain composure.
I carefully balanced her to kneel on the vanity stool. Positioning her in the right way where I could watch her. "You're going to beg, aren't you? Say it."
"Please, Romano."
With every submissive response from her, I felt a rush of dominance and control, intensifying my desire to assert my will over her. A twisted longing surged in me, accompanied by an unsettling tension, yet I labeled it as twisted because it wasn't solely her actions that drove me to the brink.
I methodically sorted through my own conflicting emotions, whilst simultaneously grappling with the dark desires that drove me forward.
"Tell me two things you want and I promise to fulfill them," I said, inches from her, toying with her hair and skin. "Just two."
She contemplated at least, for a while, before whispering, "Show me what it means to be owned by you."
The music continued to play in the background, its melody failing to distract from the gravity of Kate's request. There was shock coursing through me, but I managed to respond, my voice was barely a whisper. "Two?"
"Push me to my limits, and then push me further."
I felt a knot form in my stomach at her words. Her requests seemed more desperate each time she uttered it, trapping me in a viscous cycle of my own making. It wasn't that I didn't know how to fulfill her desires; it was that I couldn't bring myself to do it.
I understood the power I held over her in this vulnerable state, and instead of exploiting it, I sought to comfort her.
"Xenia is upstairs," I began, choosing my words carefully. "Do you really want her to hear when I fuck you? Think about that."
"You don't?"
"It's not about me. It's about you."
Kate giggled carefully, her laughter momentarily breaking the tension. "I don't know what I want. Why not make a choice for me?"
Ignoring her laughter, I leaned in closer, my finger sliding past the hem of her panties until—there—I found what I was looking for. Kate tensed, her thighs closing instinctively, but she didn't push my hand away.
"It's a full house. Someone's bound to hear you scream," I reminded her.
"But..." Her words trailed off, and I could tell she was deliberating. "But you've... you've never cared."
Truly I hadn't. I had fucked Katie in all manner of places, both conventional and unconventional. Car, bed, balcony, back alley, elevator, restroom, rooftop—you name it. But at least, Xenia hadn't been present in those places.
"I'm genuinely worried about you," that wasn't a lie I'd told. "With you carrying my child, things are shifting between us. Stealing cigarettes and itching for the drug I won't give you shows a false sense of control, and it disappoints me. I expected more."
Her eyes betrayed a flicker of recognition before shame took over. Shame... of all things—a side of Kate I never wanted to see again.
I withdrew my hand from her core and let go of her hair, but the guilt still lingered on her face.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?" I played along.
"For... for... for acting so recklessly. I should have known better," she admitted, still trembling. Her demeanor remained unchanged, so it was surprising that she suddenly grasped the seriousness of her actions. "I should have realized I was pregnant and risking the baby's life. I should have told you first."
"What else do you regret?" I probed gently. Our gazes met as she settled onto the stool, still facing the mirror. There was a moment of hesitation before she spoke.
"For asking you..."
"No," I cut in, aiming for reassurance rather than dominance. I anticipated her words and didn't want to hear her succumb to vulnerability. "Your current struggles are temporary. It's not your fault; it's mine. And to undo the damage, I'll arrange professional help for you."
She nodded, though it was evident that it wasn't what she truly desired. What she craved was dopamine, even in small amounts, and I was the one withholding it.
"I need it, Romano. It's incredibly challenging to concentrate." She cracked her knuckles as she lifted her trembling hands to me, tears staining her cheeks. "I can't seem to stop shaking."
"I can see that."
I knew there were people who could assist her, and if I could find one fast, I believed she'd improve soon enough. Deep down, I was scared for her, scared for the baby.
"Why don't you put on your dress?" I suggested gently, and she nodded, her shame diminishing. I almost felt a sense of relief at her compliance. "Thirsty?"
Another nod.
"Let's get a bottle of water and take a walk. Sound good?"
Finally, she nodded. I understood this was just the beginning of her struggle, but I wanted to support her in the best way possible without causing harm to anyone of them. If I couldn't do that, then I was simply nothing but a...pussy.