Thirteen
DARIO
I’m losing my fucking mind, I swear. I’ve been terrorising anyone who comes close since Liana went off on me. Nothing seems to quell the anger she ignited twelve hours ago.
I should be glad that someone finally stood up to me, but Liana’s poor choice of words got to me. I know I’m responsible for Natalia’s death, but to have it thrown in my face is giving me a sobering dose of reality. Natalia’s father made her a target. However, our engagement has increased its value.
While we never got along, Natalia was a great woman; someone who deserved more than me and this life. Now, she’s six-feet deep, buried in some crypt amongst the same family that she hated. She wanted a sense of freedom… freedom I could offer. I should’ve known it wouldn’t be as easy as I led her to believe. This life comes with responsibilities, and they are the difference between life and death.
“Would you stop moping around?” my mother questions upon entering my office.
I look up to find her leaning against the doorway with her arms folded across her small frame and her legs crossed. “I’m not moping, Mama, I’m just avoiding everyone. There’s a blatant difference.”
“Difference my ass,” she scoffs. “You need to get a handle on your anger because isolating yourself in fear of lashing out again isn’t helping anyone, especially not yourself.”
“Do you have a better suggestion?” I ask, my tone sharpens as the angry heat begins to spread throughout my body once more. “For starters, therapy.” Her words take me by surprise. “Anger management is something you should look into.”
“I don’t need anger management, Mama. I need everyone to understand the shit I go through to keep them safe, and the stress that comes along with it. They need to understand that sometimes I get angry when people don’t choose their words carefully.”
“I’m not saying you have a problem; I’m calling you out on your bullshit, Dario. I won’t have you disrespecting your father the way you did last night. And I’ll be damned if you continue wreaking havoc on everyone around you just because you can. It’s not acceptable. Not now, not ever.” She takes a breath, advancing towards me. “Your upbringing taught you better than to ever take anything to heart. You transform their words into a weapon and use it against them. What happened to that version of you, huh? What changed?”
“What hasn’t changed?” I sigh, sarcasm dripping from my words as I drag my hands down my face. “Natalia died only six months ago, Mama, and yet, here we are in a similar situation, dragging another innocent woman into our bullshit. Liana could be an assassin’s mark even as we speak. How can you expect me to be okay with that?”
She releases a short breath, seating herself on the arm of my chair. “You’ve never once not been okay with our way of life; why the sudden change of heart?”
“I think I’m failing, Mama.” My voice catches in my throat, a quick cough escaping me to cover it up. “Liana’s different from Natalia. She’s a spitfire, a feisty little thing that makes it fun to be around. She makes me feel… things. I don’t know what it is about her, but she’s changing me.”
She laughs. “Not every change is a bad change, Dario. The world we live in comes with uncertainties that not even you can predict, change or reshape… You have to embrace that. While you’re conflicted and sifting through your thoughts, searching for an outcome where you don’t get hurt, there’s a woman out there who knows exactly who you are and what you do. She’s holding her head high while knowing she could be killed at any time. I guarantee you, her mind is racing more than yours.”
“So how do I go about this? I—”
“I can’t tell you how to act or talk to Liana, all I can do is wish you luck. She’s a woman, not something you can control or manipulate to do things exactly how you want her to. If you have feelings for her, then face them like a man and tell her. The last thing you want to do is leave her in the dark, doubting everything. Women aren’t mind readers; we need a little push, just as much as men do.”
“That was very vague, mother,” I tell her as she stands from my armrest.
Glancing down at me, she cups my face in her hands and tilts my head up to her. “Not everything is easily explained, and if I have to do everything for you, you’ll get nowhere in this relationship. You can do it my way and tell her, or yours, but just know, if you choose to disregard what I’ve said, you’ll have no real shot with her.” She lowers her hand.
Do I really want to have a shot with her? I mean, if I said this to anyone else, they would’ve encouraged me to keep my distance to ensure she doesn’t cause my downfall. If I were to get any closer than I am now, I could be dead or worse—in love.
“I’m not made for love, Mother. If I continue down this path, she’ll be the one to suffer. I will leave her a broken mess. I’m a bad person who does decent things, but breaking her heart has never been on the agenda.”
A soft laugh falls from her lips as she rounds my desk and perches herself on one of the chairs opposite me. “Your sperm donor was the same—he wasn’t built for love and he made my life hell, stringing me along for the sole purpose of children. Vincent was then left to pick up the pieces of my broken heart, something that wasn’t his job but he did it anyway. Right now, with the whispers floating around about her father, I guarantee you her heart is already splitting apart. Don’t be the one to shatter it completely. Instead, fix it before it’s beyond repair.”
How does one fix a heart they didn’t break? To me, that sounds like an impossible and treacherous task. One wrong move and everything goes to shit.
“All you have to do is be there when she needs you,” she continues, leaning forward. “I’m not saying you should go all in, but if you choose to do so, you can’t back out when things get difficult. Love—and I mean true love—is a strange thing. I thought I’d never feel it. But seeing how my relationship with Vincent was so different from the relationship I had with Antonio, made me understand that not all men born into this world are as cruel as they were raised to be. Be that anomaly, Dario. Be a part of the small percentage of strong, powerful and feared men who know the difference between a selfish marriage and a cooperative one.”
∞∞∞
I’ve had hours to think over my mother’s words, but I can’t see a scenario where I make it out of this predicament unscathed. Maybe that makes me a part of the selfish men in this world, but if that’s what I have to be to save myself, so be it.
As I roam through the halls of my home, doing whatever I can to take my mind off Liana, I come face to face with her door for what feels like the hundredth time. Each time I face it, I’m unable to knock, unsure of what to say. It’s like a never-ending cycle that I can’t break, because I don’t have the experience or expertise in heart-to-heart conversations. I try my best to steer away from deep conversations, unless I’m ambushed—like my mother did.
Retracing my steps, I find my way to the end of the hall, conflicted once more. I stop, differing from my previous actions, and stare down the hall at the large window that rests on the dead-end wall at the end. I watch as the black clouds drift by in the sky.
Upon instinct, I walk towards it, flick the latch and climb out. I steady myself on the wraparound balcony. The cold air startles me and makes me regret not wearing a jacket, but I man-up and push aside the chilly feeling that causes goosebumps to surface on my skin.
Moving towards the left side, I climb the ladder to the top and over the rusted railing, sitting myself down on the roof.
I love it up here. It’s my safe place, outside of my office and bedroom. Up here, I can see everything: the moon illuminating the sky, the clouds that shift in front of it, the skyscrapers in the distance that have long been doused in darkness, mere shadows replacing their rightful spots along the skyline, and the ground beneath me. There’s not a soul in sight. It’s a peaceful place, one where I can be alone with my thoughts, free from interruptions for as long as I want.
Living this life has never been easy, but it’s what I chose. I chose to step up and take over from Maze when he relinquished his position. While I wouldn’t change a single choice I’ve made and the decisions that have brought me to this exact place in life, there’s a part of me that feels free when I’m up here. That’s the part that asks the question: who would I be without this job?
I’m an anomaly in my family—an heir that actually wants to lead our family to greatness. I don’t know if I can be another one, one that wants more from this marriage than what was agreed upon. That might make me a horrible person, but it’s nothing I haven’t heard before. The list of names I’ve been called goes back to when I was a child and has since grown. The names have gotten craftier but no longer affect me. ‘Husband,’ however, has never been one of those names. Even with Natalia, she refused to acknowledge me as such a person, knowing exactly the kind of man I am—unable to feel anything remotely close to the word ‘love’.
What makes Liana Moretti so different? Is it the way she holds herself? That’s a unique form of protection for herself, her heart and her future, almost like if she were to let her concrete walls fall, she’d crumble with them. Is it how she bites back? Her mouth is a weapon no one, not even me, could stop. Is it the feeling that courses through me when she’s around? It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, like an effective poison that seeps within me. It’s corrupting me and who I am as a person, slowly working its magic to destroy me, starting with my heart and mind.
Lifting myself from the roof, I climb over the railing and down the ladder, pulling myself through the window again, and locking it behind me.
As I tread down the hall, the murmurs from inside Liana’s room stop me, my attention piquing, begging to open her door.
My hand darts out to her door knob and I slowly twist until her door pops away from the doorframe. The words falling from her mouth become clearer.
Pushing the door open further, I peer into her room, her actions stopping me in my tracks.
Through the darkness, I watch as her quilt moves slowly, her hand working wonders beneath it. Her head is flat against the bed, the decorative cushions sprawled across the floor, while her actual pillows are beside her, giving her the comfort she needs while she pleasures herself.
Her soft whispers are replaced by breathy whimpers as she works towards her goal. Every few seconds, her voice rises slightly, but not enough to make her actions known to everyone else on this floor.
My jaw clenches as my cock hardens at the sight; the urge to lunge forward, to take over weighing heavy on my mind.
As if reading my mind, she kicks off the comforter and my first instinct is to close my eyes to give her the privacy she desires, but I don’t. Instead, I slip further into her room, leaving the door ajar, not wanting to disturb the moment.
I feel like a creep—a dirty, disgusting creep—as I watch her from across the room, but it sends a thrill of excitement through me and my cock throbs.
Her head presses deep into the mattress, her chin pointing to the ceiling, revealing her bare throat. Her chest rises and falls, she’s getting close to her desired destination. The need to see all of her draws me closer.
She pauses, her head returning to its rightful place, and her body shoots upright. “H-hello?” she asks, her voice shaky. “Is anyone there?”
Positioning myself back near the door, I open it further to give the illusion that I’m only now entering. “Don’t stop on my account, little one.”
She audibly gulps, scrambling to switch on the lamp on her nightstand. “Dario? What—what are you—”
“You’re not as quiet as you think, Liana, but don’t let me interrupt you.” My eyes instinctively fall to her chest, her top discarded on her floor amongst the cushions. Her bra fits loosely, almost as if she’s unsecured the back, but never had the chance to fully take it off. “The show was eye-opening. A one-woman show is something I’ve never had the pleasure of witnessing, so by all means…” I stretch out my hand, urging her to continue.
“Get out,” she scoffs, grabbing a pillow from beside her, and throwing it in my direction. Just like the day I found her crying in her room, she misses me, and scoffs at her miserable attempt.
“But you were so close,” I taunt, inching closer through the dim light. “Don’t you want to feel that thrill, Liana? I can help you if you’d like?” She stares at me, her eyes widening further in horror.
Grabbing the other pillow, she covers her face and groans into it. Letting it fall to her lap, she sighs. “God, you couldn’t have just walked away? This is so… embarrassing, Dario.”
I release a laugh, my legs meeting the edge of her bed. Rounding it, I sit at the foot, my eyes never leaving hers. “Liana, you shouldn’t be ashamed; it’s something to relish in. Though, in my experience, I’ve never been caught in the act. You, however—”
“Don’t say it,” she interrupts, giving my arm a playful slap.
“All I’m saying is if you ever want a helping hand, you know where to find me.” And with that, I leave for my bedroom. My cock is hard, the throbbing sensation intensifying and sending an uncomfortable feeling through me. It makes releasing it from my slacks all that much better.
Settling myself into bed, I let the images of Liana play through my mind on repeat, and they help me release the stress of today.
Something within me begs for her to take me up on my offer; I want to watch firsthand as she reaches her climax and comes down from her high. I can only imagine she’s disregarded it for tonight, but I’m optimistic she’ll let me know next time. If she doesn’t, I may have to walk in on her again.