Chapter 40
Requiem
THE REQUIEM | Past
By afternoon, or more like early evening, the penthouse is bathed in sunlight.
“I don’t care about other members, Bianchi. If they slide across the border line, put them down.” Zagreus is pacing near the floor-to-ceiling windows, talking to someone. “I have prepared the ledgers. Use them to expose the Davenports.”
I sit cross-legged on the plush rug in front of the low bookcase, content to ignore his terrifying business calls. I had been looking for a book to pass the time when I stumbled upon a row of leather-bound binders tucked away on the bottom shelf.
Curiosity getting the better of me, I pulled one out. Now, my breath catches in my throat.
“No, keep the security tight at the perimeter. I want eyes on every vehicle,” Zagreus murmurs into the line.
I can barely hear him. I slowly turn the pages of the first album, and a wave of nostalgia hits my chest.
It’s a photograph of me. I am maybe seven years old, wearing mismatched floral overalls, my hair a wild halo of loose curls, laughing so hard my eyes are squeezed shut.
I blink, quickly pulling out the second album. Then the third.
The fourth. Fifth. Sixth.
Six thick albums in total. I flip through them in a daze.
Every single page is a repository of my life.
There are photos of me reading under the old oak tree in our backyard, photos of me blowing out birthday candles, photos of me crying over a scraped knee, and even a few rare ones where Zagreus is in the frame, stubbornly staring away from the lens until the younger version of me forces him to smile by shoving a handful of cake near his face.
A wistful smile trembles on my lips.
Looking at these makes me ache for how carefree we used to be, back when we didn’t have to worry about anything and our Fathers were just two friends smoking cigars on a porch. He kept everything. He tracked my entire life.
My eyes lock onto a specific photograph in the third album. We are on a secluded strip of beach, maybe ten or twelve years old. I am sitting in the sand, focused on building a crooked sand castle, while a young, sullen Zagreus sits right beside me, holding a plastic shovel glaring at the camera.
Closing the album, I stand up. My bare feet make no sound against the hardwood as I march straight across the room.
Zagreus is still talking, his brow furrowed as he listens. “If the shipment is delayed, tell them—”
I take a running leap, jumping right into his space.
Without breaking his stride or dropping his phone, his free arm shoots out, catching me by the thighs and hoisting me up against his torso.
I wrap my legs securely around his waist, my hands clamping onto his broad shoulders as he effortlessly absorbs me, his grey eyes locking onto mine with a mixture of amusement and fierceness.
“Hold on,” Zagreus says quietly into the phone, though his attention has shifted to me. He keeps the device to his ear, his thumb caressing the bare skin of my thigh exposed by his oversized shirt. “What are you doing, Dolcezza?”
“We need to recreate this,” I say as I wiggle slightly against him. “Right now. We have to.”
Zagreus raises an eyebrow as he speaks over my head into the receiver. “I’ll call you back.” He doesn’t wait for a response, pulling the phone away and tossing it carelessly onto the sofa behind him. He loops both arms around my waist, keeping me pinned flush against his chest. “Recreate what?”
“A picture!” I plead, leaning back a little so I can look into his beautiful, stubborn face. “I found the albums. Why didn’t I know you had those? There’s one of us playing in the sand when we were kids. We need to recreate it. Please?”
“No,” he answers.
“Why not?”
I pout. “Please, Zagreus. It’s important.”
“Because,” he murmurs, his gaze dropping down the length of his own white shirt hanging loosely off my shoulders, the hem barely covering the tops of my thighs.
His eyes darken. “I am absolutely not taking you outside onto a public beach dressed like that, no matter how breathtakingly beautiful you look in my clothes. I am a possessive bastard, Mrs. Vitale. I don’t share. ”
“We don’t have to go to a beach!” I argue, a giggle escapes. “We can take it right here in the penthouse. On the rug, or by the terrace. We can use cushions instead of sand. Come on, please? We need it for the future. For the next album.”
Zagreus stares at me for a long beat. I flutter my lashes and almost high-five myself when he lets out a defeated sigh, carries me to the couch where he threw his phone, and presses it into my hand.
“Take however many you want.” His lips brush against my forehead. “You have my full cooperation. But you’re going to have to work for it.”
“Yes!”
I cheer, instantly sliding down his body until my feet touch the floor. I grab his massive hand, planting my feet and tugging with all my might. “Come on! Let’s go to the bedroom.”
I pull, but it’s like trying to move a brick wall. Zagreus doesn’t budge an inch. He stands solid with a damn wicked smirk spreading across his lips as he watches me struggle.
“Zagreus!”
I complain, puffing my hair out of my face. “You’re too heavy. Move!”
“I don’t move unless I want to, Mrs. Vitale,” he teases, crossing his bare arms over his chest, leaning his weight back slightly. “And right now, I need an incentive. You want my time? You have to pay for it.”
I roll my eyes, placing my hands on my hips. “You already have everything, Mr. Vitale. What could you possibly want from me right now?”
Zagreus leans down, his hot breath fanning against my lips as his eyes flare.
“I want you to promise me that the second you’re done playing photographer,” he whispers, his hand sliding down to cup the back of my thigh, squeezing, “you’ll get back on your knees on that rug, pull this shirt down past your shoulders, and let me use that sweet mouth of yours.”
Heat bolts straight to my core. My cheeks turn red, and I smack his chest, mortified but breathless. “You are a pervert!”
Zagreus chuckles, finally letting me drag him toward the bedroom. “I told you, Dolcezza. I write the laws.”
***
I yank on his hand as I manage to drag him across the master bedroom. Zagreus lets out another chuckle, willing to let himself be moved now that he’s extracted his wicked little promise from me.
The bedroom is washed in the soft, fading gold of the early evening sun. The balcony doors are ajar, letting a cool, lazy breeze drift inside, making the sheer white curtains sway and billow into the room.
“Alright, lawbreaker,” Zagreus murmurs, leaning his tall, bare-chested frame against the wall near the window, crossing his arms over his chest as those stormy grey eyes track my every move. “Show me how we’re supposed to recreate a beach scene inside an apartment.”
“First, we need to set the mood,” I giggle.
I grab his phone, unlocking it with the passcode I know by heart, glad he hasn’t changed it, and swipe through to find a song. A second later, my old favorite track fills the room.
“Music?”
Zagreus tilts his head.
“Of course, music,” I insist, stepping back and raising the phone camera. I look at him through the screen, my heart skipping a beat. He looks too handsome standing there, the golden light catching his dark hair. I click the picture once.
He’s photogenic despite the look on his face. “Now, look at me. Don’t look away from the lens.”
Zagreus’s brow furrows slightly, his eyes narrowing as he realizes I’m not setting up a timer for a joint photo. “This wasn’t the deal. You said we were recreating the sandcastle picture.”
“Well, I lied,” I laugh, dodging to the side as I snap another picture of him frowning, the curtains billowing out behind him along with a fresh breeze.
“The deal has officially changed, Mr. Vitale. I looked through all six of those albums, and do you know what I noticed? There are barely any pictures of you. It’s all me.
I’m taking pictures of you today so we can actually fill the next album together. ”
“I don’t like cameras, Dolcezza,” he growls softly, though there’s no real anger in his voice. He takes a step away from the wall. “And I definitely don’t like being lied to by my wife.”
“You’ll survive!”
I tease, backing away toward the center of the room.
I snap another photo just as the wind catches the curtains, obscuring him for a brief second. When the sheer fabric relaxes, Zagreus moves through it.
“Come here,” he commands, a dangerous smile breaking across his face.
I gasp, then dissolve into giggles as I turn on my heel and try to dodge him. I run around the bed.
“You have to catch me first!”
I dare him, looking over my shoulder as I snap one more blurry, chaotic picture of him chasing me.
Zagreus doesn’t bother running. As I try to loop back toward the balcony doors, his large hand shoots out from behind the swaying white curtain. His fingers wrap firmly around my waist, and he hoists my back flush against his bare chest.
“Caught you,” he rasps against my ear.
I laugh, dropping the phone onto the soft mattress as he twirls me around in his arms, lifting my feet off the floor. The white shirt shifts on my shoulders.
He lowers me onto the center of the bed, his body instantly following me down, pinning me into the sheets. He hovers over me, his dark hair falling loose across his forehead.
And I realize, there’s no universe where I don’t belong to him.
“You’re a menace.” His hand comes up to brush a wild curl away from my face, his thumb tracing the soft line of my jaw.
“I’m your wife,” I correct softly, my breath hitching as I look up at him. For a second, everything vanishes. There is only him. Only us.
I reach up, my fingers wrapping around his neck, pulling him down just a fraction. I pout, looking at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Make a pout for me, Zagreus. Just one picture, please.”
“Absolutely not, Dolcezza. I have an empire to run. I am not making a pout.”
“Please?” I whisper against his lips. “Just for me. No one else will ever see it.”
Zagreus stares at me for a long moment, his eyes full of a love so deep and consuming it feels almost tragic. Slowly, with an exaggerated sigh that makes me burst into another fit of giggles, he softens his jaw and mimics an unsure pout.
I don’t even care that the phone is lying face down on the mattress.
I don’t need a camera to capture this. I print the image of his beautiful, stubborn face directly into my heart, memorizing the way his grey eyes crinkle at the corners, the way the golden evening sun paints his skin, and the exact rhythm of his heart against mine.
“I love you,” I whisper into the quiet space between our lips.
“I know.” His mouth slams down onto mine, capturing my laughter and turning it into an achingly sweet kiss that consumes me, both of us oblivious to whatever future awaits us.