SEVEN
T he door swings open, and Cecilia stands in front of me.
Her messy, blonde hair falls over her face, and she yawns. Her eyes are half-closed. It’s understandable—it’s past one in the morning. She’s wearing nothing but a white tank-top and a pair of white underwear.
“Noah?” She blinks.
It takes her a moment to fully see me but then she gasps, hand covering her mouth. Her big, baby-blue eyes widen, and she stares at me, barely blinking or breathing.
“What in the world happened to you?”
She’s sizing me up and down, baffled at the bloody sight in front of her. Sleep vanishes from her face, and worry replaces it just as quickly.
“Don’t worry. It’s not my blood.”
Cecilia sighs in relief and grabs my wrist. She pulls me inside and locks the door before taking me to her bathroom. I’m too numb to function on my own and don’t find it in me to care as she starts stripping me down.
I’m pushed under a stream of warm water, the solid blood on me slowly starts rinsing off. Cecilia offers a helping hand and starts scrubbing me down, paying close attention to my hands, hair and face.
“What in the world happened, Noah?”
I can’t speak.
Warm water falls down my body, and her soft hands remove all the filth. My eyes close of their own accord, and I’m barely keeping myself together. I need fucking answers, and I don’t have anyone who will give them to me.
Once she’s done, she wraps my hair and body in two separate towels and leads me to her living room. She opens a bottle of wine and just gives it to me. No glasses, no question of if I want it—she knows that I need alcohol.
The moment the bottle is in my hands, I start chugging it down, ignoring Cecilia’s look of disbelief. My hands tremble, and I struggle to hold the bottle properly. I don’t care what it tastes like. I don’t care that it’s straight out of her fridge. All I care about is getting it all in my system.
Half of the bottle is gone in the blink of an eye, and the pathetic trembling of my body stops. I put the bottle on the small table in front of me and throw myself on her pretty, comfortable couch.
“So, are you going to tell me, or should I wait until dead bodies show up at my doorstep?”
Cecilia De Luca is the younger daughter of the current Italian mafia boss. Her older sister, Victoria, is set to get the title after their father passes. It works in Cecilia’s favor perfectly; she never wanted the Dona title in the first place.
That’s why she’s staying as far away from Italy as possible.
“The story is quite long,” I mumble into her pillow.
Cecilia snatches the pillow and throws it across the room. Her eyes narrow at me, and I realize there’s no place for me to run or hide.
“I have time.” She smiles threateningly.
I start from the very beginning. From the day my aunt died up until tonight’s events. Cecilia doesn’t interrupt me, but her expression tells me everything I need to know. She’s shocked, in disbelief, and has no idea if I’m telling her a dream I had or if this is my reality.
A frown appears on her face as she hugs a soft pillow, crossing her legs in front of her and sprawling on the floor. She’s sipping on the wine, her expression changing from a frown to a wince in a millisecond.
“So? What’s the deal with coming to me this late, Noah?”
I pause, pursing my lips.
After all of those men were dead, Father and Henrick returned from the other room, pissed beyond belief. The attackers snuck in through the back and tried to catch them by surprise, but it was unsuccessful.
But they did kill our drivers.
Bastards.
Instead of driving me to his manor or my home, I told Father to take me to Cecilia’s place. He was probing me with multiple questions at once, but, to me, it was all a haze. I barely heard his voice. I was just… numb. And I needed my best friend.
I take a deep breath and look at Cecilia.
There’s anticipation on her face as she tries to hide a small smile. She clears her throat and makes sure her attention is only on me.
“Why would he do that?” I blurt out.
Cecilia blinks. “What?”
“Why would he lick blood off my face?”
“I’m sorry. Rewind.” She raises her index finger, brows shooting up to her hairline. “He did what?”
“He licked blood off my face.”
“And in the middle of them killing Luciella, you killing Franco, him stabbing you, then choking you, then you stabbing his shoulder and the two of you killing countless people together in record time, that’s what you’re curious about?”
“Well… Yes.”
“You’re mentally disturbed,” she says with a light laugh. “But back to the issue. He quite literally licked the blood off your face?”
“Yes.”
Cecilia grimaces like I’ve never seen her do.
“Given the state you were in when you came here… I’m assuming it happened after you took down the attackers?”
I frown. “No. I stabbed him and some of the blood got on my jaw. He licked his blood off me.”
“Maybe that’s his kink? You know… blood play?”
“But why would he lick it off me ?”
“Are you pretending or are you just that stupid?”
“I’m not following.”
Cecilia takes a deep breath and takes my hands in hers. She’s treating me like a toddler and softens her voice.
“Sweetie, you’re an attractive woman. He could have a thing for you.”
“The next thing that comes out of your mouth better not be that disgusting.”
“It’s a possibility.”
“He almost choked me to death.”
“ Almost.”
I yank my hands from hers and throw my arms up in surrender.
“You’re impossible to deal with.”
“And you’re too far up your own ass. Anywho, it’s late. Let’s go to bed, shall we?”
I can’t sleep.
We go to her bedroom, and she lies next to me, falling asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow. Her breathing evens out, her soft hair falling on me as she turns to the other side.
I close my eyes, but sleep is a foreign word to me. No matter how much I toss and turn, I can’t find a spot to finally sleep on.
All I think about are those piercing, green eyes.
The moment his warm tongue touched my bare flesh, I was unable to move. It paralyzed me, and my mind went blank. I’m surprised he didn’t hear just how loudly my heart was beating and threatening to jump out of my chest.
I don’t know what exactly was running through his head when he did that, but he better pray it never happens again. It might’ve been an impulse of his; however, it is the last one when it comes to me.
That bastard touched me.
His handprint is all over my neck. I bruise easily and his harsh choking only promised to leave me in shades of green, blue and purple for the next month. Whenever I look in the mirror, I’m reminded that he made me freeze in terror.
Not once but fucking twice.
I can’t sleep.
Instead, I silently walk toward Cecilia’s closet and grab the first thing I can find and throw it on. She won’t be upset that I left in the middle of the night, so I make sure to leave as quietly as possible.
My wallet and keys were in the leather jacket she tossed in the trash, but she checked the pockets before and put them on the kitchen counter. I grab them and use her phone to call for a taxi.
The ride back to my home nearly makes me fall asleep. Thanks to the bumps along the road, I jump in my seat a few times, and it makes the sleepiness vanish. It’s five in the morning by the time I reach my door, and I halt.
Someone is inside.
I don’t have any weapons on me, but there’s no point in running. If it’s another assassin, I can probably take them down. But if they’re waiting for me to open the door and then shoot me, I’m dead.
Well, it’s not like I can turn around and leave. Where could I possibly go at this hour? It would take me an hour to reach my father’s manor and I’m not ready to talk to him yet. I love him, but I’m mentally drained from dealing with him so closely for the past two months.
I need a break from my family.
I don’t think about it anymore. I’m too tired to properly assess the situation, and I act purely on the need to plop on my bed and sleep for the next twelve hours straight.
The door opens, and darkness greets me.
A sigh of relief slips my lips at the empty entrance. The door looks straight at the living room area, and there’s no one in my view. On the right is a little dresser. It has a hidden compartment where I keep all of my knives for emergencies.
Shock fills my mind at the sight of them… gone.
Not a single one is there.
Whoever came inside definitely searched through the entire penthouse. If they found this one, then the possibility of them finding another five hiding places is high. My ears perk at the faint footstep sound in the kitchen.
The only thing I have at hand is a lamp. But hey, it’s shaped like a dagger. It’s a gift from my father, and it’s definitely sharp. Not ideal, but the best I can do. If my hiding places were discovered, so were the guns and daggers I had laying around.
I clutch the metal lamp in my hands and find my way in the kitchen. Whoever it is, they know I’m inside, but I don’t want to turn on the lights. The element of surprise isn’t on my side, but the territory is.
My heart sinks to my stomach as soon as I step inside of the kitchen.
He’s sitting on a high stool with a glass of a very expensive wine in his hand. All of my weapons are piled on the table across from him, stacked up. He’s staring at me, and I can’t move.
For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Hudson De Santis makes me freeze. The blood in my veins runs cold, and my throat closes up. The intensity in his eyes hurts me. I want to look away, but I can’t.
He doesn’t allow it.
“Hi, there, Noelle.” He grins like a maniac. “A great collection you have here.”
“Little De Santis,” I grit out. “Which collection? Weapons or alcohol? Both of which you touched without permission.”
“Both are pretty impressive.” The smile falls from his face. “Drop the nickname.”
It takes all the willpower and all the mental strength I have left to force my feet to move toward the table.
“Were you going to attack me with that lamp?”
I put it aside and grab a gun. Upon checking it, I realize the clip is missing. I continue checking every single one of them, but none are full.
“For safety reasons, I threw them out.”
“Why are you here?”
I don’t dare to look at him. I’m afraid of the consequences looking at the monster would bring, and I’m not ready to face them.
Hudson drinks the rest of my wine and hops off the stool. He’s walking toward me slowly. He’s acting like a predator that is about to swallow his prey whole. His unwavering eyes send chills down my body.
He’s dangerously close to me.
He grabs my wrist and takes the dagger out of it, tossing it aside. I don’t even fight it. I allow him to play around me like a fucking Barbie doll.
“Let’s have a chat, Noelle.”