Chapter Eleven
The car ride is silent, exactly like she wants.
The last twenty-four hours have been a completely chaos. From the moment we kissed for the first time until she said goodbye to her brother.
The torture she had on her face when he begged her to come back from him is something I’ve never seen on her face.
We are playing a dangerous game. One moment we hate each other so bad that we almost kill one another, and one moment our eyes are having an intimate conversation.
I made a mistake when I took her garter down.
Smelled her skin.
She has a scent that I’ve become obsessed with, and the need to feel her smell on me is too much. That’s why I snuck my teeth into her flesh. Her smooth skin that was so hot under my touch.
Althea Seraphina Moretti will not be just my death, she’ll be the one who will make me beg for it, for mercy.
I stop the car at the gate of the hotel and Althea doesn’t wait another second and she exits the car.
I sigh and I open the door, going to the truck to take out our bags.
My wife waits for me at the reception and behind the counter is a woman who has wide eyes and an open mouth.
“Moretti.” I say calmly, even if I’m beyond calm.
The woman just keeps looking at me and before I have time to snap, I see my wife straighten.
“A room under the name Moretti.” She looks annoyed.
I’m too tired to think of her jealousy, or if she even feels that emotion.
We are heading towards the elevator and the silence between us is becoming too awkward.
She pushes the button and the doors open, letting us go in. Althea pushes again the button that indicates our floor and stands next to me like a ghost.
As the elevator moves, I peak a look at her and for the first time tonight I see how tired she actually is.
Her face is pale and her cheeks are drawn back.
Did she eat anything?
The bags under her eyes are now visible because the makeup starts to wash away from her face.
Tonight, I met two versions of my wife which I've never seen before.
One in which her soul was breaking in her eyes at the thought of leaving her brother.
And one in which she was trembling in anger.
Althea is a volcano. Not like one.
She is one.
She keeps everything in her until she explodes. She doesn't want to show emotions, thinking that people will call her weak, and when she can't hold them anymore, she lets them out in the most consuming way possible.
How can I get her to trust me when we make a step forward and five backwards.
The doors open and we move to the door that will hide us from the world.
Althea opens the hotel room with the card and we enter.
It's so dark that I can't even see myself. I put my hand on the wall and start feeling it until I feel the light switch.
When light is finally in the room, we are welcomed by a huge kitchen and living room.
Is a normal hotel room too much to ask for?
I can bet with anyone that Allan is the one who put us in a damn penthouse.
I walk past Althea who is looking with wide eyes at the place, and head towards the bedroom.
She wants me to let her alone to think?
That's exactly what I'm doing.
I open the bags to take a pair of grey sweatpants out and move to the bathroom.
When the hot water hits my tense muscles, I let out a groan. I close my eyes and I rise my head up, letting the water attack my face.
Images of my head between Althea's legs are making my blood run straight to my groin.
I wrap my palm around my rising shaft and give it a few pumps. I squeeze my tip hard and I let out a moan.
Oh, I would die for her mouth on me.
My movements are faster and I know soon I will explode.
I put my other hand on the wall in front of me because I feel how my legs are melting.
When my cum starts to consume me, a knock on the door interrupts my thoughts.
"Are you fucking drowning in there?" My wife's voice is making me pump harder.
"You would enjoy it." My voice is hoarse.
"Of course I will." I groan low when the image of her sarcastic face takes my mind. After a few more strokes, I wash my hands and take the towel to wrap it around my waist.
I open the door and an angry Althea is in front of me, still in her wedding dress.
My wife's eyes are shamelessly admire my body which is covered in drops of water.
"Do you want to lick them?" I ask with a smirk.
"Only if you die right after." I shake my head and move past her. I feel her hand wrap around my arm and I look at her with a raised eyebrow.
"What do you want Althea?" Her name feels like beautiful poison on my lips, on my brain.
"I can't take this stupid dress off." Fire takes over my body and I shut my eyes to block the naked picture of her.
I turn her quickly and move her hair so I can have access on her back. I take the zipper in between two fingers and start to slide it down her back.
Her beautiful light brown skin is shining under the bright lights and I take my time to undo the dress. Her back is flawless and I can see some muscles extend over it.
When the zipper stops right above her ass, I touch my fingers to her skin, just to feel her a little bit.
What does she have that makes me so obsessed with her?
Althea moves just a little out of my touch and this is all it takes for me to get away from her.
I exit the bedroom and go to the kitchen in hope to find a bottle of scotch.
"Are you turning into a fucking bipolar?" Althea's angry voice makes my palms turn into fists.
"What is the matter now?" I ask while crossing my arms. She wears a loose black T-shirt and I wonder if it's mine. Her legs are naked and my eyes are trying to stay on her face.
I just jerk off and I feel another erection coming.
I really think I'm turning into a bipolar. One second I want to strangle her, and the other I want to push my cock through her sarcastic lips.
"The matter? One moment you're making me feel stupid bugs in my body and the next you are ignoring me." Her answer makes me look confused at her.
"That's what you want from me?" I ask her and walk in her direction until I stand right in front of her. "Do you want me to fuck you and fight with you in the same time?" Her eyes are round O's and I don't see her hand rising.
I just feel the slap.
My cheek is on fire and I feel a slight stinging sensation. My jaw is tense and I look at her with narrow eyes.
"You better shut your mouth, jerk."
"Like you told me in the car?" I go closer to her, and this time she narrows her eyes at me.
She points her finger at my chest and pushes, thinking she can move me that easily.
"If your ego is that fragile it's not my fucking fault." I move my hand to catch her finger, but she's faster.
"I'm just doing what you told me."
"Like a fucking child." She argues back.
Her chest moves up and down and I feel it.
She feels it too.
She loses control.
"Why did you leave Vincent?" My question is wrong.
"What?" Her voice is rising.
"Why did you leave him? Like-"
"Like I left Keres?" She continues and her eyes have fire in them.
"Althea-" But I don't have time to finish my sentence because she pushes me back. Not much, but enough to make me go a few steps back.
"You have no idea." She continues to push me.
I catch one of her angry hands while the other is beating my chest with a fist.
"Althea stop." I don't recognize my voice.
"You think I'm so heartless, everyone thinks I'm just a bitch for leaving Keres. But you don't know." Her hand slips from my grip and now she beats my chest with both fists.
"Then explain." But it's like she doesn't hear me.
"I raised Vincent. ME." She points at herself. "I changed his diapers. I prepared his formula. I was there for his first steps. For his first everything while Hanibal was just proud he finally has a son. An heir." I catch her hands again and I hold them tightly in my palms, trying to calm her down. "Why would you think I left him there?"
I feel something running down my chest and I look quickly and see that it is blood. Althea scratched me until she saw blood.
"Althea calm down."
"Why?" She lifts her foot and steps on mine, but I don't feel anything.
Just a lump in my throat because she feels too much too fast.
I take her body and lift her in the air because she's too aggressive.
I slam her to the couch, my body on hers.
"Isn't this what you want? To see me weak?" She moves under me.
"You think you're weak because you show emotion?"
"I hate them. I hate them with everything in me." No emotions.
Them.
"Is it enough?" She asks me tired.
"For what?"
"For showing you that I'm not different than you. Will my screams make you believe that I grieve my sister? Will me throwing everything make you see that I left a part of me with Vincent? Will me, crying my eyes out, show that I have a heart buried somewhere in here." She points at my chest, where my heart is.
My eyes are fixed on her and I feel my blood leaving my body.
She starts throwing her fists again at me, but I'm completely numb.
"Get off me." She snarls. "Keaton, get the fuck off me." I hear a little fear in her angry screams, so I move immediately.
I don't say anything, because there's not much to say.
I watch her exit the living room and I go on the balcony.
My towel is still around me, but I don't care.
Will me, crying my eyes out, show that I have a heart buried somewhere in here?
If until now, I thought that my wife has no humanity, tonight I found out that she feels too much.
And I'll be damned if I won't find out what happened to her. Get ready, wife. Because the beast in me doesn't give up until it hunts everything out of its way.
A bright light wakes me up. I put my hand above my eyes and see that I'm still on the balcony.
The sun position shows me that it's about noon. I tighten the towel around me and slide the balcony door.
But it's not sliding.
I put my whole power, but the damn door it's not opening.
And that's when I realize the little note glued to the glass.
That fucking vixen.
I punch the glass but it doesn't move.
Bulletproof glass.
I'll turn my wife's ass red. Show her the 'American tan'.
My phone is in the penthouse, so everything I'm doing is useless.
I have to wait until someone comes to clean the hotel room.
My lungs are desperately screaming for a cigarette, and my ass is fucking on fire.
I sit like a fainted man on the sunny sofa on the balcony until I hear a hearty laugh.
Allan wears a white T-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants.
"If you don't let me in, I will put all the sweat on your fancy cologne. All of it." I say through my teeth.
Allan continues to laugh, but he opens the door.
I go into the penthouse and I feel like I can breathe again.
I head towards the bedroom and of course my wife is not here.
"Althea is on her way to Chicago." Allan wipes his tears.
Althea Moretti, well played.
But I'm coming for your fucking soul.