Chapter Eleven
Cesare
WHILE MOST OF HIS FAMILY left right after dinner, he was not surprised when Massimo opted to stay behind...and his brother wasted no time in confronting him as soon as they were alone in his office.
"Explain to me what you're doing, fratello ."
"Is it not obvious enough?"
"All that's obvious to me is how you've convinced an eighteen-year-old girl to truly believe it's actually a good thing for married couples to see themselves as each other's owners."
"We're famiglia ," Cesare said flatly. "The fewer people we trust, the better—-"
"And so you are choosing not to trust your own fidanzata ?"
"She is not our blood—-"
Massimo threw his brother a look of disgust. " Porca miseria, Cesare! We both know I have more experience with women so damn greedy they wouldn't think twice about selling their own sons for the right price—-" His own past came to haunt him, and his jaw clenched. "So trust me when I say that Penelope is not and can never be the type to let you down."
Cesare bit back an expletive upon hearing his brother's words.
Fuck .
Massimo's mother was a Vegas stripper who had not hesitated to use her own son as a bargaining chip every time she needed to ask money from the Marchettis—-and asshole that he was, he had not realized how his treatment of Penelope might end up reminding Massimo of his parent.
"Mi dispiace—-"
"You do not owe me an apology," Massimo said quietly, "but it would make me feel better if you just stop lying to yourself. Being famiglia also means we learn early about the nature of humans, and you and I know Penelope has not an evil bone in her body."
Massimo's gaze turned grim at Cesare's continued refusal to speak. "I cannot just watch and say nothing when I see my own brother hell-bent on ruining his life. Penelope is not the problem here, fratello. It is you and your feelings—"
"I do not have feelings for her," Cesare denied tightly. "I know it's not what you wish to hear, but it's the fucking truth. I don't love her—-and I never will."
Penelope
Silence is an insidious twat.
At first I'm basking in the afterglow of being surrounded by family, but as the minutes tick by, my eyes start to droop...and before I know it, I'm falling back into the bloody, thorny arms of my nightmares, and I'm forced to relive everything I've been desperately trying to run away from.
The deafening, soul-eating sound of endless gunshots. The screech of wildly spinning tires and the stench of burnt rubber. And because nightmares like this always save the worst for last —-a demon sinks its claws into my flesh and turns me into a puppet.
No, please, no.
But I'm powerless to stop the demon from forcing my hands to hold a gun, point it at that man's head, and then I'm pulling the trigger—-
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
The demon doesn't allow me to stop firing even as the man's face has completely split open, his skull shattered into pieces, and his brain looking like stupid freaking macaroni—-
I wake up with a voiceless scream trapped in my throat, and I end up puking my guts out for the second time.
I'm sorry, God, I'm sorry.
I brush my teeth several times and step into the shower in a foolish attempt to wash away my sin. Punishingly cold water blasts down my shivering body, but guilt still scorches me from within.
I walk back into the room, still trembling and naked and hurting.
I know can't go on like this.
I just can't—-
The bedroom door slowly open, and as soon as Cesare walks back in, the first thing I see is the agony etched over the sculpted edges of his gorgeous face, and it's the exact same torment haunting my own soul.
I don't know why he's hurting. All I know is that it's hurting me even more to see him suffering...because I love him.
I think it's time I admit the undeniable.
He owns me because I want him, owns me because I need him. And the one reason he will never lose me is because I love him.
I love Cesare Marchetti, and that's why I know. He's the only one who can truly heal me, and as he suddenly hauls me against his body—-I can only reach up to lay a trembling hand against his cheek. I'm hoping, even if he's yet to love me back, that my touch may heal his pain, too.
"What's wrong?" I whisper.
He shakes his head before slowly letting me go...in order to step back and stare at me. The shadows in his gaze gradually fade, and replacing it is a glitter of lust that has his eyes devouring every inch of my naked flesh.
"I want to fuck you," Cesare says roughly.
"Then fuck me," I say unevenly. "Keep your promise and don't let me sleep another night a v-virgin who still doesn't know what it feels like to have your cock inside of me—-"
He lowers his head with a groan, and the moment his mouth swoops down in a kiss so ruthlessly deep his tongue reaches the back of my throat—-
Aaaaaaah.
Passion explodes between us, and all rules are forgotten. They say a girl's first time is supposed to be slow and gentle, tender and loving.
But this girl is different.
The things that have shaped my life up to this very moment makes me different, and all I want is to lose myself in his possessive embrace. All I need right now is for the forceful power of sex to break me, to just stop me from thinking in any way so that all I can do is feel what it likes to be owned—-
"C-Cesare!"
I cry out in a mixture of fear, shock, and excitement when he suddenly spins me around, and I find myself bent over the edge of the bed, my already-aching breasts flat against the covers, feet on the floor, and my ass up in the air.
The sound of his fingers working his zipper down is enough to make moisture coat the swollen folds of my pussy, and my fingers curl helplessly against the bed. It feels like things are happening too fast, but at the same time it also feels like things aren't happening fast enough, and I find myself writhing at the restless clamor of heat pulsating deep in my belly.
"P-Please..."
I'm not even sure what I'm pleading for, but the moment I feel him sliding the thick, throbbing length of his erection up and down against the crack of my ass—-
Yes, yes, yes.
My body arches involuntarily, and just as the soft back of my thighs hits his denim-clad legs, he suddenly slaps one of the bare cheeks of my bottom—-
"Cesare!"
He gives my bottom another slap, and I end up writhing anew as my flesh starts to burn in the most unbearably delicious way. It hurts so, so good, that by the time he starts slapping the other cheek of my ass, I'm close to feeling delirious, and I barely notice the way one of his hands has curved around my waist...just as his other hand guides the bulbous head of his cock to the quivering entrance of my core.
"Fuck, tesoro," Cesare groans. "You're so fucking wet."
I feel him slowly pushing his cock inside of me as he speaks, and all I can do is moan because he's barely an inch inside, and it already feels like he's about to tear me apart.
"You're too big," I choke out.
"I know..."
It's that beautiful, annoying voice of his again. The one that simultaneously taunts and seduces , and just like before, it makes me want to say 'fuck off'... and 'fuck me', also at the same time.
"If I try pushing another inch more..."
My gasp comes out all strangled this time, with the way that added inch of his cock already has my pussy stretching more widely open that it's ever been. Two inches, just two inches in, and—-
AAAAAAH!
Cesare suddenly thrusts all the way inside of me, and it hurts so, so good, that I feel like I'm about to spontaneously combust even as tears painfully sting my eyes.
"I'm sorry, tesoro..." His words are a whispered balm for the excruciating fullness that's pulsing violently inside of my pussy. "But this is not the last time my cock will feel too fucking big for your cunt."
He says the words so gently, and his touch is just as gentle as he gathers my hair in one hand in order to softly kiss the bare curve of my shoulder. Everything he does is so, so gentle, really, that it takes me an extra second to understand what he's just said.
Wait a minute.
Is he saying his cock will always feel like this massive beast bulldozing its way into my—-
"C-C-Cesare!"
My stunned cry only melts into the devilish sound of his laugh, and all I can do after that is sob and claw on the sheets helplessly as Cesare pounds into me hard and fast—-
Aaaaah
He's fucking me roughly and relentlessly like the ruthless mafia boss I fear, want, and need him to be—-
"P-please..."
I'm not sure if I'm begging him to be more rough or gentle, but when he grips my hair to pull my head back and turn my mouth to his kiss—-
Rough, I realize dizzily.
I definitely, absolutely, and totally need him to be this wonderfully rough, with his tongue once again diving so deep into my throat that I nearly stop breathing—-
I love you, I love you, I love you .
I know it's silly to want to cry the words out when his mouth finally leaves mine...and I taste the tiniest bit of blood as he bites my lip.
But that's just how it is.
The way his hands are forcefully pressing my hips down on the bed as his massive length plunges in and out of my swollen and exquisitely battered cunt—-
The way his thumbs are digging deep into the soft flesh of my ass when the head of his cock has finally reached all the way to my womb—-
All of these things just make me want to cry the words out—-
I love you, I love you, I love you.
And when his big, muscular body suddenly jerks behind me, and he groans my name out as I finally experience what it means to have my mafia boss's cock fill my pussy with his cum—-
I love you.
The words play endlessly in my heart as his orgasm triggers my own, and I can only sob as the thick, creamy essence of my release pours out of my body and coagulates with his own seed before trickling down my thighs.
I love you.
We make love several times more after that, and when my stomach starts growling again, we end up enjoying a midnight meal in his balcony, and with Cesare feeding me Chinese takeout while I'm still naked in his lap.
I can barely keep my eyes open by the time he carries me back to his bedroom, and I'm vaguely aware of Cesare quietly telling me that he'll set up a meeting with Pilar Sorrento first thing tomorrow morning.
'I don't want another day to pass without making you my wife.'
I wish I have the strength to ask him if what I'm hearing is true... since I know Cesare calling me his wife is another way of him saying he loves me back.
But because sleep is ever so traitorous, his words are left unanswered, and I find myself dreaming...again.
"DAD."
I sit up and rub my eyes so I can have a better look at the time on my phone.
01:53 AM?
I'm wide-awake in an instant, and confused, since this isn't the usual time for him to come home. "Where have you been?"
Dad sits next to me on the couch. "That's the question you really want to ask?" He reaches for the book from the coffee table and places it on my hand. "You've been working on this, haven't you?"
"Yes...and no? I mean, it's a book about ancient mysteries. And countless experts have already tried solving them and failed. It's not like I can do anything else—-"
Dad shakes his head. "You're looking at it the wrong way, Penny."
My brows furrow as I belatedly notice the way he's looking at me. "What's wrong, Dad?"
"It's not always about what or how much you know."
"Why do you look so sad?"
"Sometimes, it's all about the simplest things, like what you saw. What you heard. What you remember."
I shake my head. "You're starting to scare me. Is this about Mom?"
Dad ruffles my hair. "Love you, Pens."
Tears start rolling down my eyes, and even though we see each other every day—-why does it suddenly feel like it's been forever since I last heard Dad say that?
I wish, God, I wish I can say the words back.
But when my lips part, it's all too late.
I'M CRYING WHEN I WAKE up, but I waste no time in wiping the tears away since someone is furiously knocking on the door.
"Penelope?"
I think that's Massimo's voice?
I open the door, and it's indeed Cesare's brother standing in the hallway, and the grim set of his features makes me feel sick.
No. Please. No. Not again. Please, God. Please.
"It's Cesare."
My knees threaten to fold. "He's n-not dead—-" I would've felt it. Would've known.
Massimo whitens. " Dio, no. It's not that," he rejects right away. " Mi dispiace, I did not mean to frighten you."
My knees do give out this time, and even though I'm crying again, it's tears of relief coursing down my cheeks.
He's alive, thank God.
That's all that matters.
Cesare's alive.
Massimo carefully helps me back to my feet, and I look up at him, saying unevenly, "Just tell it to me straight."
And so he does.
Pilar is dead, and Cesare is now behind bars...as the prime suspect behind her murder.