Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
LUCIE
The front door closes and Toma leaves me in the middle of a sparse flat across from mine.
His flat.
I suspected he stayed close, even when I didn’t know it was him, and couldn’t see him. Yet, a shiver runs up my spine when I turn and take in the space. I shouldn’t love how far he went to watch over me, how he invaded my privacy and disrespected my boundaries. That’s sick.
Except, I am sick because I need that level of obsession. My heart makes a little dance in my chest before I’m reminding myself why I’m here.
Someone else has invaded my space but this time, it’s all wrong. I rub my forearms up and down, crossing them over my chest.
Toma’s flat is a simple one-bedroom, with a kitchenette to my left and a sofa to my right that looks uncomfortable. A simple chair is set up in front of the window and I shake my head. He must have spent days and nights seated there, looking out.
Just as I expect, when I take his spot, I can see my flat. His movements are frantic as he moves across rooms with bags of trash in his hands. I’m far away but the frown on his forehead and his serious expression are unmistakable, and so at odds with his usually laid-back attitude.
I sigh. He’s not going to let me come back until it’s clean and all traces of the invasion have been erased.
I stand and step into the bedroom. The sheets on the bed are dark and thin.
There’s no curtains to speak of, and in the adjacent bathroom, only a bottle of 2-in-1 shampoo lay on the corner of the tub, and a toothbrush and a tube of off-brand toothpaste of the side of the sink. Sadness takes hold inside me.
To confirm my suspicions, I get a look into the small fridge, back into the living space. A lone greek yoghurt and a bottle of milk sit sadly in the door.
I fall on the sofa, elbows on my knees to hold my head. The threat against my life, clear in the display of destruction of my flat, should be the thing I focus on. The tears prickling my eyes aren’t for me though.
They’re for the man who clearly believes he doesn’t deserve anything good.
All the signs point to self-hatred. There’s no softness in his life.
Now that I think about it, Toma’s isolated.
He has no friends he can turn to; his brother is a monster.
Ever since I met him, his life has revolved around my cousin.
He’s dedicated his services to the Ventura name, another victim to my family motto.
Yet, it could become so much more.
Yes, we’re about loyalty and duty and courage. But it’s also about love. About family. About being there for each other when we need it. I doubt he’s ever had that in his life. I doubt he knows it’s possible.
When he comes back to pick me up, I’ll show him.
He’s more than proven himself in the organisation.
He doesn’t need to prove anything to me. It’s evident in everything he does.
The pitter patter of Biscuit coming to lick my hands has me lifting my head again. She barks once, as if agreeing with what I have in mind.
“Yes, Biscuit. We’re his family now.”
With my dog in my arms and the springs of the threadbare sofa under my ass, I call my cousin.
“Cio, cugina. Tutto bene?”
“Ciao, Dante.”
“Dante? My God, you only call me that when you’re about to ask me for massive favours. What’s wrong?”
I sigh, the weight of the last hour finally settling on my shoulders.
“My flat’s been raided,” I declare flatly. Like any time danger comes too close to my shore, violence threads my cousin’s voice as he asks for clarification.
“What happened?”
I don’t have much to go on but I tell him about the home invasion, about Toma’s flat across from mine. He doesn’t sound surprised so it’s not a stretch for me to conclude that Dante knew Toma was here all along.
“You should come home,” he says. But home hasn’t been London for me. Ever.
“I have three tests coming up this week, but then we’ll come back. I can take the last lessons online.”
“We?”
“Toma’s coming with me.” I remain inflexible and stoic, proud of myself when my voice doesn’t waver though my whole body buzzes with the excitement of standing firm, and the latent fear of rejection. He’s the Don after all.
“Alright,” Dante simply answers. “Where’s Toma now?”
As he asks, the keys jingle and the door opens to reveal Toma’s massive frame. “He just got back. I’ll call you later.” I don’t wait for necessary goodbyes and hang up.
Toma’s eyes are sunken and his shoulders cave inwards.
On the corner of his jaw, a muscle works.
His back hits the door when he closes it but he remains there.
This is taking a toll on him. I’d never blame him for not knowing this could happen or for not preventing it, and I tell him as much but the words hit a wall.
He’s not hearing them. He’s not even looking at me.
I stand and tentatively approach, then place a hand on his shoulder.
He flinches and recoils, and I frown at the reaction.
Then he proceeds to put distance between us again.
It’s hard in the small space. He manages somehow.
And an ocean could be between us right now with how cold his whole demeanour is.
“Do you feel better?” I ask.
His jaw clenches again and he turns his back on me, ignoring Biscuit when she whines at his feet for a pet.
That’s unlike him. He’s obsessed with her.
Tension grows in the air, so thick I can feel it settle on my skin like glacial snow.
Toma throws a set of keys on the small round table in the middle of the room. I recognise them instantly. They’re his set. Of our flat.
“You should go home.”
Even his voice sounds different. Far away and bored.
“Piccolo, what wrong?”
I’ve been here before. The moment before I’m being shut away. Before bad news is delivered, changing my destiny forever. I can’t do it again.
“What’s wrong is us, Lucie,” he laughs coldly, the sound slithering over my skin like a snake.
I step back, unconsciously trying to put distance between this version of Toma and the one I know, the one who stole my heart.
Whoever the man in front of me is, he’s not the man I love.
But I don’t understand the sudden change.
“You don’t mean that. Whatever happened, we can fight this together.” I need to reason with him, bring him back to safety. “Dante will send someone to check who broke into my flat. We’ll figure it out. We can even stay here if we need. I’ll go get some essentials.”
“I know who broke in, Lucie. You do, too.” He glances over his shoulder, a look of pure agony and distress on his handsome face. “My brother called. I’m leaving.”
I shake my head in denial and clench my jaw. I refuse to have someone else I love leave me. “If he’s threatening you, we can protect you.”
His laugh is cruel this time. “Protect me? From my own kin? Come on, baby, you’re not that stupid, are you?”
The nickname makes me flinch.
“You said he was cruel to you, that you hated him.”
He shrugs, but I know it’s an act. When he opens his mouth again, his next words thaw at my certainty.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve had my fun, gathered the info I needed, and now I’m going where I belong.”
It’s not the first time a man tells me I was fun, only to leave after fucking me. But Toma is different. He stalked me, cooked for me, took care of me.
“Did you think we’d keep playing house, Lu?” he asks with a twisted smile. “That I’d be your dutiful house boyfriend, waiting for you to return from your silly classes?”
My stomach lurches suddenly as his words bring up the insecurities I keep hidden from everyone, the ones I showed him with open palms, presenting them to him like he could take care of them, and make me feel a little lighter.
And he did. Only to use them against me. I bite my lower lip and drop my gaze.
I opened myself up, all for my stories to be thrown in my face. I pick at my sleeve, shaking my head. This isn’t happening.
But Toma isn’t done. My heart isn’t broken yet and it seems that’s his only goal. “Look at you. I’m your only friend because no one else finds you interesting enough. Not a single person back home calls you these days, and even Mina couldn’t wait to leave town in hiding.”
“She had to, you know that. You’re just trying to push me away.” My voice wavers. “I won’t let you.”
Tears gather at the corners of my eyes. When I glance back up at him, he’s straightened up. His lips curl as he delivers his next jab.
“I’m a monster, Lucie. That’s what I do. I use, I destroy and I hurt. You’re just collateral damage.”
“You’re not a monster.” I surge forward, framing his face like I’ve done so many times before, clutching him.
His hands land on my wrists but he doesn’t try to dislodge me and hope blooms. But his eyes have a distinct sheen to them.
One I only saw when he tracked Dante with me last summer.
It’s pure determination. He has a goal, a task and whatever it is, he won’t stop until he’s reached it.
“You took care of me. You protected me,” I try, voice breaking already. “You love me. I know you do.”
“Do you think because you study psychology you can analyse me?” He cants his head to the side. The disdain I read on his charming face is ugly. He pushes me away. “God, you’re truly pathetic, Lu. So willing to be chosen. Guess what? You’re not that special.”
“Don’t talk to me like that,” I retort as my cheeks redden with embarrassment and anger. “Don’t cheapen what we have because you’re scared. You have me.”
No one has ever talked to me this way. I have. But hearing it spoken is worse than whatever I said to myself in the silence of my own head. And I hate that it’s coming from him.
I trusted him. Told him secrets I never shared with anyone. Opened myself again after vowing I’d never hurt like I’ve hurt when I lost my family.
“What we had was just sex, that’s it.”
“That’s not true,” I say, the anger simmering just out of reach. But Toma isn’t done yet. Every time I push myself to challenge his words, he pushes harder.
His nose wrinkles and a dead expression takes over his face. The shift is terrifying and I take a step back. He follows, looming over me and for the first time since I met him, I’m truly understanding why he’s called The Beast.
“Are you going to cling to me like you did all the other people who used you before?” He asks, all traces of kindness gone. “I mean, we can fuck one last time if that makes you feel better.”
I bare my teeth and slap him. The inferno of my emotions surges inside my chest. It wants to claw at him, make him pay for making me feel so dirty.
“You and I both know we can’t escape who we are,” he says, almost to himself. “Look at you, with anger blooming inside you. You want to kill, don’t you?”
Underneath the red rage, one last bit of reason comes up. It’s one last attempt at saving what we shared. I already know it won’t work. I try nonetheless.
“You gave me your virginity.”
“God, Lu. It’s not that deep. You know what my brother does, right?
Can’t wait to have all the sluts I want sucking my cock day and night.
” He licks his lips, and I grimace, my fists clenching.
I want to punch him. I hate it when men talk about women and sex workers like they’re a commodity.
I can’t believe he’d stoop so low just to hurt me.
The realisation has nausea rising up my throat.
“My only regret is that I never got to fuck that fat ass of yours, baby,” he says.
The words are disgusting, the nickname is wrong.
Everything comes crashing down, everything we shared shredded like silk.
My ribcage clenches painfully, trying to protect the organ inside, beating like it wants to cling to something he’s destroying with careless words.
Fear sticks to Toma’s skin. I wish I could stay strong, but he’s succeeding in hurting me.
I can’t take it. I’ve had too much pain to bear to allow him to do it, too.
I slap him again, harder this time. I know he lets me. He’s a trained killer and could have avoided me.
“You want to throw away what we have? Fine,” I sneer. “I knew you were no good the moment you walked into my cousin’s house. Get the fuck out of Edinburgh before I put a contract on your head. Go back to him like the coward you are.”
He chuckles, nothing like the rich, low sound I love. “That’s rich coming from you. Hiding away behind your smiles when all you want is retribution. You and I both know you’re too soft for murder. You said it yourself, you want out of this life, right? You don’t have what it takes to kill me.”
“Don’t fucking tempt me. I love to prove men wrong.”
I gather the keys he left for me on the table and my jacket and open the door.
“Take the mutt.” He stoops low and takes Biscuit in his arm before pushing her into mine. Then he disappears into the bedroom, slamming the door of the bathroom behind him, like he didn’t just shatter my heart and destroy what we had with a few well-placed insults.