SUN
My head is a mess. Full of chaos, despair, and thoughts I probably shouldn’t be having. But that’s nothing new. I’ve been falling apart for the past two days, since I had to fuck Anzo.
I’m desperate to pull myself out of this black hole, to reclaim some sense of… control and dignity. I just need to get back even a sliver of who I used to be.
Yesterday morning, I was sitting on the patio, trying to relax. It wasn’t working. My body was tense, my breath shallow, everything inside me too loud. And then I noticed him.
The gardener.
The same one I’d seen through the window a couple of times. Only now, I could finally get a proper look at him up close.
He was spraying the plants, focused on his task, completely ignoring me. Not just ignoring, avoiding eye contact altogether. Like he knew I was watching and had already decided I wasn’t worth the risk. But I stared anyway, shamelessly.
Because the guy is seriously hot.
He doesn’t even look like a gardener, if I’m being honest. More like a marine or a firefighter. Or a cop. One of those jobs where your body has to be in peak shape, and his definitely is.
A flat stomach, narrow hips, and ridiculously wide shoulders.
The way he moves is smooth, controlled, almost feline. Despite all the muscle, there’s no heaviness to him. He’s strong but not overdone, built for action.
I could also smell him, but sadly not his pheromones.
He’s on suppressants, it’s obvious. My nose didn’t catch even a hint of his Allure, only his natural body scent and shower gel, with a deep forest pine tone.
Despite working for hours in the sun, his sweat wasn’t unpleasant.
It’s the kind of scent people who work out a lot tend to have.
Clean, toxin-free, no sour odor, just the body of a fit, healthy young man.
To be honest, I found a strange pleasure in smelling him, to the point I wanted to stand a bit closer.
And his face… damn. Rugged, masculine, cut just the way I like. He’s basically the poster boy for my type, perfectly so.
During the brief conversation we had, I kept watching him even harder. Despite the fact he wouldn’t meet my eyes. It felt almost like he was being stubborn about it.
Guys usually look at me intensely. But he must know I’m Ferro’s toy, that even eyeing me, let alone talking to me, is risky.
And maybe it’s for the best? I should be careful. Flirting is out of the question, even though some part of me is slightly tempted.
But after what happened with Matteo, I became paranoid. That betrayal taught me everything I needed to know. Anyone here could be a trap. This guy might be another one of Anzo’s setups.
A ridiculously hot alpha put right in front of me for temptation. To bait me, check if I’d throw myself at him, begging for help. And then would come the beating, electrocution, hanging.
He’s walking around in that black tank top, tattooed arms sculpted like a damn statue, looking like a centerfold from Bodybuilder Weekly. Too good to be true.
But maybe… just maybe, I could try something else. No flirting, of course! No games.
What if I just made a friend? No strings, just contact with another human being. Someone who doesn’t hit me, or shock me, or use my body like it’s his to break.
But before I even think about that, I have to know: is he a soldato ?
So when he showed up by the gazebo, I asked. I probably looked suspicious, as if I was waiting for him, then jumping into a sensitive question, but I don’t care. I need something. Anything to focus on besides the sharp edges of my own unraveling mind. I’m falling apart.
And just before dinner, Anzo had already made me fuck him again. The same as the night before. Forced me into it. Summer was there, thankfully, and helped me get through the whole disgusting act.
But while I was doing it, that hollow feeling inside me got worse. Like I was becoming transparent, the emptiness wasn’t just in me anymore, it was me. Inside and out. I was literally fading into nothing, becoming a ghost of who I used to be.
My will is being broken, and I have no idea how to rebuild myself.
So maybe that’s why this random gardener got stuck in my head? Perhaps my mind was reaching out blindly, trying to grab onto anything, anyone, to anchor itself. Just to keep from falling.
And there he was. A seemingly insignificant guy. A stranger, yet a breath of fresh air. A small distraction I desperately needed.
And there was this strange electric touch! If I were silly, I could interpret it as a True Mate’s First Touch, but let’s be serious. We’re both alphas, and I’m a weird one at that…
The door creaks open.
Matteo appears in the frame.
"Dinner," he announces, flat as ever.
Ever since he snitched on me to Anzo, I haven’t given the bastard so much as a glance. Piece of shit. I follow him down the stairs to that cursed dining room, where we all sit like some zombie portrait.
But Anzo’s not here tonight. He doesn’t eat with us every time, probably too busy with shady business deals to keep the domestic ‘family dinner’ tradition super regular.
Instead, there’s someone else at the table.
Another man, an omega.
He looks… like a younger version of Anzo, like his fucking twin.
Same slicked-back black hair, though his is tied in a low ponytail, while Anzo wears his short. Same sharp suit, same cold, unreadable face. Another one of those blank, statuesque expressions everybody has around here.
They’re chatting about some real estate on the coast they’re thinking of buying, all business.
Then it becomes clear. I remember something I read on that blog The Truth Only I Know : Anzo has five nephews. I already met the four from his brother Paolo. But there’s a fifth one. The only son of his older brother, Tito.
His name is Ennio, thirty-four, handles the Ferro family's real estate and construction investments. I remember the blog saying he’s illegitimate.
Grew up with his dad’s side of the family—the guy was the husband of one of Ferro’s soldiers.
However, Ennio was a cuckoo in the nest and was treated badly.
So Anzo took him in as a teenager and groomed him to work for the ‘family’.
Whatever the hell that euphemism even means.
Ennio gives off the typical here, detached energy. Similar to Anzo’s, but more corporate, formal. Like a CEO who doesn’t care if you live or die as long as the numbers line up.
He glances at me once, just once, with his completely black eyes, unreadable. Then back to talking with Rocco.
While I eat, without Anzo here, I can actually take a good look around. Luca’s staring at me. Not with hunger or hatred, just something… clinical. Like he's studying me.
What the fuck is that about? I haven’t really dealt with him much, and maybe that’s for the best. He’s a purple alpha, and those guys are messed up. I would know. My dealings with my brother, Storm, were always… intense!
Everyone else is just zoning out at their plates. Eliano and Mauro chew slowly, like zombies over a rat’s carcass. Though to be fair, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them wear any expression that isn’t screaming ‘severely depressed’.
Rocco and Ennio keep talking and talking. Still boring stuff. Market prices, state law, some new regulations in the construction department. Luca adds a word here and there.
I finish eating and stand up as soon as I can. I can’t take another minute at that table. It’s like eating in a morgue.
Yesterday, Anzo gave me the code to the garden doors, so I’m allowed to leave my damn prison now. But that also means I sometimes run into the other weirdos living here.
Once, I passed Mauro in the hallway. No reaction. He looked creepy, like a programmed android. Another time, I crossed the main room, what they call a ‘living room’, though it’s more like a cathedral-sized salon, and saw Eliano. No reaction too. The house of the dead, as I said.
I guess they both live here full-time? Strange. Shouldn’t Eliano be in college? He’s the right age for it. And Mauro’s clearly old enough to have moved out.
Sometimes I wonder if they’re prisoners too. I’ve only ever seen Luca and Rocco leave the fortress. Is it possible the other two brothers are locked in here permanently?
As of today, Matteo doesn't have to show up to escort me anymore, which is a huge relief. I can just use code.
When I get up and head toward the door, Summer stands up too and walks out. Naturally, we end up going down the hallway together.
I’m not sure if I should say anything, but once we’re out of earshot of anyone still in the banquet hall, something slips out of me before I can stop it:
"With your power, you could escape."
Wow. Way to subtly ease into the conversation.
Summer stays silent. We walk a few steps more, then he stops in front of one of the doors.
He lifts his mismatched eyes to mine, still nothing. No reaction. No words. What a strange guy.
But the desperation inside me is picking up speed. I lean in, whispering in a low, eerie voice.
"You could kill him."
Yeah, I actually say it. Or maybe it’s not me talking, maybe it’s just the pure, raw despair coming out of me. Because I don’t see another way. It’s either him… or me and my family.
Summer’s lips twitch into a sad smile.
"Easily. But if I did, the people I love would be killed."
He starts typing a code into the door panel, one hand already on the handle, about to leave, but I stop him quickly.
"I have seven brothers! There’s no way I could save them all. No way to force them to change their names, relocate, go into hiding!" My whisper is half-panicked. "It’s simply impossible. And Anzo has all their addresses. So what, are we supposed to stay here for the rest of our lives?"
I feel ridiculous even saying it. Like I’m starting to crack. Losing it completely, sounds like it. But I can’t give up.
"All you’d have to do is stop the blood flow in his heart. No one would ever know."
Summer looks away.