Ah, darkness, my old friend... You know, when I first started writing, I was all about the darkest stuff imaginable—like, seriously twisted, psychopathic stuff. But as time went on, I realized I needed to give my characters some redeeming qualities if I wanted readers to connect with them, you know? Yet, here I am, writing this chapter, and it feels like I've gone back to my teenage years, where I'd concoct the most messed-up things the main guy could do to the main girl. But trust me, this version is like child's play compared to the crazy stuff I wrote six or seven years ago. Do comment on the chapter!!!! xoxo
Marco»»»◈«««"Lilianna Sofia Bruno, twenty-three years old, daughter of Sanrino Bruno," Alessandro said, his voice steady as he gave me the background check on Lilianna and her brothers. "She attended a prestigious high school in Miami before her father forcibly relocated her back to Naples. During her time in the US, she lived with her brother Samuele and her half-brother Grabriele, along with Emilio Bruno, their Uncle." Twenty-three? Twenty-fucking-three?! My blood boiled with rage. If she's twenty-three now, that means she must have been nineteen when I met her four years ago. My mind raced, piecing together the puzzle of her deceit. So she lied about her age, about her address. My fists clenched in anger. Threw away her phone the second she stepped out of my apartment, and then just fucking disappeared. The realization hit me like a sledgehammer, fueling the flames of resentment burning within me. Of course. What else would you expect from a woman of their family? I wonder what
Lilianna»»»◈«««I woke up with a start, shooting up into a sitting position. My hand instinctively reached for my face. God, that had been the worst nightmare ever—I froze as I saw a picture almost the size of the wall.No, no, please, not this...The dull ache at the back of my head surged back with full force, accompanied by the familiar burn behind my eyes.I scanned the dimly lit, unfamiliar bedroom, the only light was coming from the nightstand lamp beside me.My gaze snapped back to the picture on the wall. Marco Costello walked through a sea of white rose petals, his arm wrapped around Amy Costello—his beloved deceased wife. She laughed in the picture, while Marco wore a simple smile, yet his eyes brimmed with adoration as he gazed at her, and it stung.It was as if I could feel the weight of their love radiating from the photograph, mocking me with its permanence.With a heavy sigh, I buried my face in my hands, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing down on me. How could
Lilianna»»»◈«««Before I could even blink, his iron grip closed around my wrist, squeezing so tightly it felt like my bones might snap. A sinister grin crept across his face, twisting his features into a mockery of amusement, "Big mistake..." With a rough grasp, he hoisted me off the ground, his grip bruising my arms as he ignored my startled gasp. I clung to him out of necessity, the pressure of his hold leaving me no choice but to wrap my arms tightly around his neck as he walked towards the bedroom with purposeful strides.My eyes widened in terror, my throat dry with fear as he threw me onto the bed. The impact sent shockwaves through my body, almost bouncing me off the mattress from the sheer force of his actions. I scrambled onto my elbows, a surge of adrenaline fueling my movements as I hastily shuffled backward on the bed, putting as much distance between myself and him as possible.Panic seizing every fiber of my being as I recoiled from him. My breath came in ragged gasps.
Lilianna»»»◈«««His hand trailed down my back before grazing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. I instinctively squeezed my knees together, but his grip forced them apart, his touch feeling invasive and violating.Hopelessness felt like a heavy weight pressing down on me, making it difficult to fight back. I tried to push against the overwhelming sense of defeat, but it seemed like an impossible task. Each breath became a struggle, each moment a battle to hold on to the little hope I had left.Then a thought crossed my mind like a dark shadow, tempting me with the idea of simply surrendering. Maybe if I mentally checked out, it would be easier to endure whatever he had planned. If I could disconnect my mind from my body, perhaps the pain would be more bearable. After all, once he was done with me, he would leave, if only for the night. But even as the idea lingered, I couldn't bring myself to fully accept it. "Stop," I pleaded, writhing beneath him, my efforts to push him away fu
Lilianna»»»◈«««Last night was a sleepless torment. The mere thought of Marco sharing the same bed kept me wide awake, staring at the ceiling with a sense of dread gnawing at my insides. Every creak of the bed, every rustle of the sheets, felt like an opening to another assault.I remained on edge, my senses heightened, listening for the slightest movement from his side of the bed. As his alarm went off, I kept my eyes closed, feigning sleep as Marco stirred awake. I listened intently as he went through his morning routine, the sound of his shower and the shuffle of his clothes punctuating the silence of the room. Only when I heard the click of the door signaling that he was gone did I dare to open my eyes, relief washing over me momentarily.With Marco out of the room, I finally dared to leave the bed, my limbs heavy with exhaustion. I dragged myself over to the closet, unsure if I even had suitable attire to wear in this unfamiliar place. Opening the wardrobe, I was greeted by its
Lilianna»»»◈«««"How do I do that?" I asked for the umpteenth time as Mrs. Moore tried her best to not lose her patience."Have you truly never cleaned anything in your entire life?" she sighed, her disappointment palpable, as if my incompetence had somehow exceeded her already low expectations.I folded my arms across my chest. "Why are you giving me that look? Seriously, Mrs. Moore? If a man were standing here, would you have questioned him with the same disbelief? Why is it so astonishing that I, as a woman, have never cleaned anything in my life? I've always had maids attending to everything around me; I never had to lift a finger."Her eyes softened, a hint of sympathy seeping into her gaze. "I understand, Ms. Lilianna," she replied gently, "But you must learn to be self-reliant, regardless of your upbringing. Life can throw unexpected challenges, and knowing how to handle them is important, maid or no maid." "Fine," I grumbled, reluctantly taking the rag from her hand and wipin
Lilianna»»»◈«««My heart leaped into my throat, and I nearly ducked behind the kitchen counter. I thought we were done with him. I thought he was dead. Wasn't he supposed to be gone for good? Uncle Emilio assured me he took care of it, he took care of him. He was dead, yet here he was, laughing with Marco. I cringed at the sight, my hands curling into fists, I never wanted to lay eyes on that creep again.Mrs. Moore frowned at me, "What's the matter?"I shook my head, "Nothing, I just feel a bit tired. I think I'll go lie down for a while."Her expression grew concerned, "I'm sorry, Lilianna, but you can't..."My eyes widened, "Why?""Mr. Costello specifically requested your presence at dinner tonight..." she explained apologetically, "You are supposed to be one of the servers tonight." "Serve?" I questionedMrs. Moore looked uncomfortable as she continued, "He wants to make sure you understand your place in this household." I felt a knot form in my stomach. "Understood," I replied,
Lilianna»»»◈««« He shot a furious glare back towards the dining hall. "What the fuck was that? Are you fucking five years old? He insulted your family, and you smashed his dinner into his face?!" he nearly shouted, his eyes blazing with anger.I stayed quiet, meeting his glare with one of my own. He didn't bother to ask if there was a reason behind my actions, just jumped straight to labeling me as angry and irrational. He didn't even bother to ask for my side of the story."I won't tolerate this kind of behavior, Lilianna," he said, his voice low and controlled, but there was an undercurrent of warning in his tone. "You embarrassed me in front of my guests." He stepped closer to me, the floor seemed to vibrate beneath his weight, drawing my attention to his powerful presence. I couldn't help but notice the subtle flex of his jaw, the way his muscles rippled beneath the fabric of his suit, tailored to perfection. His scent, a heady combination of cedarwood and musk, enveloped me. I