Chapter 15 Benjamin
Benjamin
I’m dying. All the moisture in my body is gone and my skull feels like it’s vacuum-packed my brain. This isn’t the first day since being here I’ve woken up with a hangover, but it’s the worst by far.
I can’t even remember getting to bed. In fact, a whole chunk of yesterday is gone.
The last thing I remember was Penny pouring me a mimosa at brunch.
One turned into many and then…nothing. If yesterday followed the pattern we’ve got ourselves into recently, the three of us would have stayed around the pool, drinking and listening to music.
But if we did that, why are my feet muddy?
And why do I have it on my arse as well? Dammit, I really liked these trousers.
A sharp pain makes me moan out loud. I think it’s my liver protesting. It’s never had to deal with this amount of alcohol in all its existence. I need a bucket of water. But first… Yep, I need to vomit. Oh, God.
Now I’ve purged myself of a week’s worth of alcohol, maybe I can try to get some water and food in me. Just the thought of eating turns my stomach more. I’m close to summoning the energy to go downstairs when my door flies open and Kevin spills in, looking worse for wear.
“Oh, thank God. I was so worried about you,” he gasps. Flinging himself at me, I endure the bone-breaking hug until the stench of alcohol that still clings to his skin makes me gag.
“Kevin, you need to shower.” He’s not the only one. It feels like alcohol is leaking from every pore in my body.
He’s nodding enthusiastically. “I know, and I will. I just had to make sure you were okay. I can’t believe you wandered off. I was so scared.”
“Do you remember what happened? Because I’m drawing a blank.”
“Oh, God, I understand. I’ve only just started piecing things together again. It was the replay of Cielo barging past us with you in his arms that did it. I’m not likely to forget that in a hurry. He looked like he wanted to kill someone.”
My jaw goes slack. “What did you say? Cielo had me…”
“In his arms. You were zonked. All muddy and dishevelled. We tried to come over to you but he near on ran us down. I think Penny fell in a giant plant pot. Oh, boy, he was pissed.”
Cielo. Had me. In his arms? Fuck fuckity fuck.
“Crap.” I try to run my hands through my hair, but my fingers snag on something. As gently as possible, I pluck what looks to be a bit of a plant. Yeah, I definitely did something stupid last night, and I’m guessing Cielo is going to be super mad. Damn it. I’ve done so well staying away from him.
Saying that, it’s been a weird few days.
I stayed out of sight but missed seeing him, which makes zero sense considering he’s the Devil.
I’ve also come to realise that I’ve possibly been letting go a little too much.
I’m self-aware enough to know this is less “enjoying a holiday with friends” and more “drinking to cope.” It’s a shock my parents haven’t intervened. Maybe they’re doing it too.
Looking around the room, I take in the state of it.
Clothes are strewn everywhere. I got super mad when I realised all my clothes were gone, only to find expensive replacements in the wardrobe.
I was all geared up to storm into Cielo’s office and have it out with him, but then I changed my mind.
I didn’t want to play his games, so I did a fashion show instead and embraced the situation.
If Cielo carried me to bed last night, he would have seen the mess I’d left.
It must’ve looked like I’ve thrown a fit and trashed the place.
I didn’t. I just started to party and never got round to tidying up, which is so far from who I am, it’s scary.
I’m not handling this as well as I thought, apparently.
“Where’s Penny?”
“By the pool. She’s already on her second cocktail.”
Ugh, the thought of alcohol is not helping. I cannot imbibe today.
“Ah, you’re awake,” Roberto says from my doorway, “and you look like shit. Good, you deserve it. Cielo wants to see you. Now!”
“C-can I have a shower first? I stink.”
“No. I’ve just had my arse handed to me because of the stunt you pulled.
Get your backside down there and don’t make me ask you again.
” Roberto practically growls the last word out, and for the first time, I see just how intimidating he is.
Don’t get me wrong, Roberto always looks like he’s one bad mood away from pulverising something.
But this is the first time I’ve genuinely felt afraid of him.
Gulping, because I know I’ve fucked up, I timidly slip past a seething Roberto and head slowly downstairs. My feelings towards Cielo are not an excuse for going against his wishes. He asked me nicely to stay within the interior garden for my own safety and I ignored that.
I only know that’s what I did because of the plant I plucked out of my hair. There are no vines in the interior garden. Granted, I was three sheets to the wind and have no recollection, but I shouldn’t have put myself in a vulnerable position like that in the first place.
If I apologise quickly, maybe Cielo won’t shoot me on sight. “I’m sorry,” I bark as soon as I enter the room.
Cielo is sitting at his desk looking at something on his computer. He ignores me for a second and continues to click away. Finally, after I think I’m going to have a stroke, he looks up and pushes away from the desk slightly.
“Not looking too bright this morning, Benjamin.”
At least we’re not back to the Mr Moss thing. Then I really would have panicked.
“I’m sure you’ll be happy to know I feel like death warmed up.”
“Believe it or not, that doesn’t make me happy at all.”
Huh, okay.
“I’m genuinely sorry. I don’t know why I went wherever I went.”
“You took an evening stroll to the edge of our territory. I found you collapsed on the ground. You were metres away from the edge of a fucking cliff.” Even though he swears, it’s not rage I hear but…anxiety. He was worried about me.
“Bloody hell. I…don’t remember any of it.”
He goes silent for a second, his gaze drifting to the large window to his right. “Will you sit?”
I do as I’m told for two reasons. First, I think I might collapse if I don’t park my bum. And second, because Cielo looks so tired. Again. It’s the same look he had when I first arrived.
When he turns back to me, I’m a little stunned by his eyes. The two colours get me every time. I’ve read plenty of books where one character thinks another character’s eyes are arresting and I never really got it. I mean, eyes are eyes, right? I get it now.
“We don’t know each other, Benjamin. But I have a sense these past few days have been out of character for you.”
Damn, he’s noticed.
“At first, I was happy you were relaxing. Better than us constantly at each other’s throats.”
I nod, because yeah, holding all that rage is knackering, even though sometimes the conversational sparring kind of did it for me.
“I’m sure you want to tell me to fuck off, or some other basic insult. I get it.”
“Actually, I agree with you,” I reply.
His brows hitch slightly. “Okay. Glad we’re past the constant battles then. That being said, you might not feel that way after I’ve said my piece.”
“Try me.” I know what’s coming, and I’m not mad. A little touched, actually.
“You’re coping with being here by getting blackout drunk and it’s not healthy.
Your friend Penny is enabling you, and frankly, I’m ready to tear into her.
What happened last night could have ended in disaster.
Either you could have fallen, or someone could have attacked you.
Neither are acceptable. I need you to stop.
I understand being here is the last thing you want.
But I need you to just help me to help you by staying safe and within the boundaries of the villa. ”
I swallow thickly because I still have no moisture in my body.
“You know what my parents do?” This is the first time I feel comfortable having a conversation with him.
He nods. “I grew up learning how to analyse my feelings and behaviour. When I woke up this morning, I scared myself. I’ve never been so drunk before I’ve blacked out.
I didn’t like it. There’s a reason I’m a two-drink kinda guy.
So I did a little self-reflection and came to the same conclusion as you. ”
He’s doing that thing again, where he just looks at me.
“You were quite candid last night,” he says.
Not the answer I was expecting. My stomach rolls, and it’s not from the alcohol. What the hell did I say?
“Do I owe you another apology?”
He squints, and I see the beginning of a smirk. Shit.
“That depends. Were you lying when you called me Sexy Cielo?”
Oh, Jesus Christ on a paddleboard.
“Uh, I mean no… I’m not blind. You’re attractive…in a felonious way.” No point in trying to bullshit my way out of that one.
“Hmm. Felonious. Like a mafia king, you might say?”
Dear God, no.
“What?” I squeak.
“A mafia king you absolutely will not marry.”
“I…”
“Although the sex slave idea was interesting. But I’m a baddie, so I doubt that will pan out.”
I need him to stop talking. I can’t remember anything, and I’ve decided I don’t want to be reminded.
“I was very drunk!” It’s my only argument. Clearly my booze-addled brain decided to word-vomit all my thoughts.
“Hmm. So, just to clarify, you won’t marry me and become a king consort?
” His eyes are sparkling with mirth, and I’m so embarrassed, the only thing I can do is burst out laughing.
Which in turn sets Cielo off. I’ve heard him chuckle like a Disney villain, but this, his real laugh, is… Well, it’s sweet.
“I’m so sorry,” I cackle. “I can’t stop imagining you, all gruff and tough, dealing with me being that drunk.”
It’s true. The thought of steel-faced Cielo Mannucci having to listen to my drunken twittering is hilarious. What did his face look like when I spouted all that crap?
“It was a first. But you were rather entertaining.”
Wiping the tears from my eyes, I pull myself together a little. “I think I’m so dehydrated I’ve slipped into delirium.” My shoulders are still shaking with laughter.
Cielo rolls his eyes before slipping from his chair and opening a door in the cupboard by the window. He pulls out a fresh bottle of water from what I presume is a small fridge. “Drink.”
I drain the entire bottle in just a few gulps. “Thank you. And I promise, that will be the last time you have to deal with me in such a state.”
He inclines his head. “Good.”
He sits back down, and I can tell he has something else to say but is strangely shy about spilling the beans. I sit quietly and wait; a trick taught to me by my parents.
“I, uh, I wanted to say, I’m not a baddie, you know. Despite what you think.”
I wasn’t expecting that. He looks genuinely put out by my assessment of him.
In all fairness, though, it was a drunken judgement.
Sort of. I recall calling him the Devil in my head earlier.
When he first took me from the bookstore, I did think he was a baddie, especially after the whole “Kevin getting shot” thing.
But whether it’s my raging hormones or something else, deep down, I know he’s not the person he likes everyone to think.
I could be blowing smoke up my own arse with those thoughts. Like he said, we don’t know each other.
Criminal Casanova flitters to mind, and I internally cringe.
I’m doing such a crappy job of resisting his villainous lure.
No matter how many times I shout at myself, I feel pulled to Cielo.
But is it due to his bad boy image, or could I have developed a real connection to the man who stole me from my life?