10. Chapter 10
Sasha
Addy,
You knew exactly what you were doing with your opening line. If you didn’t, you’re even more dangerous than you think.
People are always more honest when they’re alone with a page and someone who’s paying attention. Especially when they realize they’re being seen without being interrupted. Without being corrected, without being told to be smaller.
You don’t sound ashamed; you sound relieved.
I feel like we could continue this for decades and we’d never run out of stories to swap or things to talk about. You’re way more interesting than you give yourself credit for.
Can’t say I’m a fan of you telling me you could have written to someone else instead. The idea of you saying these things to some other motherfucker doesn’t sit well with me. I don’t compete for attention. I keep what’s given deliberately. And this was deliberate.
For whatever reason, you chose me.
You say it feels more real than anything else lately. That’s because there’s no performance here. No one else gets the unedited version unless you let them. I’m not interested in sharing my privilege.
— Sasha
Things were not going to plan, and I wasn’t a fan. She was not supposed to be this … intriguing. This interesting.
I had nothing but time in here, and she was on my mind. Constantly, relentlessly. I suddenly found myself looking forward to her letters, wanting more, craving to know everything there was to know about her.
One could argue my interest stemmed from the scarcity of options available to me. It had been years since I’d spoken to a woman, let alone touched one — except for my mother, who visited occasionally.
She was devastated by the turn my life had taken, yet she was utterly powerless to change it. Any power she used to have over my fate vanished into thin fucking air the day it happened.
I loved my mother — otherwise I wouldn’t be in here — but she undoubtedly had the worst taste in men. Her beauty was her downfall in many ways.
First, it earned her the attention of my father, a high-ranking Bratva soldier, when she was no older than sixteen — resulting in me. Once he tired of her, she moved on to a never-ending parade of businessmen who only wanted her as arm candy.
Arguably the worst choice was her last husband, whose track record rivaled my mom’s. Problem was, he had wanted not only a trophy wife but also a punching bag.
Except he hadn’t taken his latest victim’s adult son into account. I was only eighteen at the time, but I was already six-foot-four and weighed almost 250 pounds, and I had slight anger issues.
I was suspicious from the moment I met Hunter, the son of her latest husband. He was several years younger than me, extremely intelligent, and yet so jaded already, it didn’t sit right with me.
I almost lost my shit at him when my mom tried to hug him and he recoiled violently. But then I saw the look in his eyes and suddenly I knew something wasn’t right. The boy barely spoke and refused to let anyone touch him.
My instincts never led me astray.
I tried to get my new little stepbro to confide in me but that fucker already had his pokerface mastered and didn’t trust easily, and he never talked about the night his mom died.
Hunter eventually told me during one of his visits what actually happened, and fuck, I couldn’t even blame him for not telling me sooner.
So, I kept watching, my suspicions growing with each passing day until I caught Steven Rhodes, the oh-so-respectable businessman, laying a hand on my mom.
It was clear this hadn’t been the first time it happened, with her or in general. He was smug when I confronted him, condescending and oh-so-confident there wouldn’t be any consequences for him.
In his arrogance, he even boasted about killing Hunter’s mother and threatened my mother with the same fate.
I fucking snapped. Completely lost it and knocked the smirk off his face. I pounded his face to a fucking pulp until he was unrecognizable, until the cops pulled me off his limp form.
He never woke up again and even though I ended up in Blackwood, I never regretted what I’d done, not for a single second.
Mom and I never had the big conversation — the one where we talked about blame or regrets. It was better this way. Nothing could change the outcome, and I didn’t want it to. I’d never regret protecting my family.
Even though none of this was supposed to happen, it had led me to this point, led me to Addy.
I hadn’t expected her but I was nothing if not adaptable.
Came with the territory. So while this recent fixation I’d developed was mildly irritating and a tad inconvenient, I was used to rolling with the punches.
At first, I dismissed Addy as a mere distraction, a convenient diversion from the monotony of my confined life. But with every letter, she drew me in more and more until I was completely hooked.
Even as a kid, I used to have problems with becoming fixated on certain things to the point of obsession. When I wanted something, I wanted it, and I accepted no obstacles in my path.
This had never applied to people before — this part was entirely new — but I knew myself well enough to understand this attraction was neither fleeting nor a passing whim.
No one had ever intrigued me as much as this woman.
I knew what the fuck I wanted, and I was never wrong.
Addy wouldn’t derail my plans, but she might yet become part of them. Before it could come to that, though, I had to do some digging.
Or rather, I had to delegate and have someone else do the digging for me.
I set up Kyrill as a lookout and pulled my phone out of its hiding place to open the encrypted chat Hunter had set up for me. See, my little stepbro and I had grown real close after I had kicked his old man’s teeth in.
Admittedly, he resented me slightly for taking the opportunity to kill Steven Rhodes from him, but he eventually got over it. After all, I was the one who had put him in contact with the right people to hone his skills.
Hunter was one of those people who succeeded at absolutely everything they set their mind to. These days, he was one of the best cornerbacks in the NFL. But he was also an incredibly talented hacker, whose skills my people had nurtured and whose services I had frequently made use of in the past.
When he was drafted, my little brother made it clear he was finished with any shady jobs, and I agreed … mostly.
There was still one thing I needed him for, one favor I was going to cash in. Now, however, it seemed like I was going to have to ask him for another one.
Oh well.
Yo, lil bro.
Phone clutched in my hand, I waited for his response, hoping he wasn’t either entangled in some kind of practice or otherwise his fiancée.
Hunter: You’re lucky I got to practice early. Almost missed me.
I’m always lucky.
Hunter: … said the man sitting behind bars.
Wow.
Hunter: Just pointing out the truth. You good?
You know how they say. Bad people are always good.
Hunter: Do they?
Maybe? I’ve never been good with these proverbs.
How’s my future sister-in-law?
Hunter: She’s fine. Now stop thinking about my fiancée.
Don’t worry, little bro. No reason to think about your girl when I have my own.
Hunter: Congratulations. What’s his name?
Funny. Haven’t tried anal so far and have zero plans to give it a try while I’m in here.
Hunter: Sucks to be you. 10/10 recommend. You got an imaginary girlfriend then? Should I be worried?
Fuck you.
Nope. But guess what — you’ll get to find out how she looks before I do.
Hunter: Why would I want to look at any other girl than Ella?
I snorted, picturing the disgust on his face. We weren’t related by blood, and yet we were eerily similar in our obsession.
The same reason why I looked into Ella for you when she first appeared.
Hunter: … which I did not ask you to do.
No, but aren’t you glad I did it anyways?
Hunter: …
So, this is your chance to return the favor.
Hunter: What’s in it for me?
You’d make your big brother very happy.
Hunter: …
Fiiiiine. And I’ll owe you.
This will not affect the previous agreement, though.
Those plans have been in the works for too long. They were entirely irrevocable.
Hunter: No shit.
Will you do it?
Hunter: Why me? Surely you could get any of your guys to do it for you?
Could I get someone else to do this for me? Sure.
But Hunter was one of the few people I trusted implicitly, and I didn’t want anyone else looking into my little devil.
Would you let just anyone go through your girl’s files?
Hunter: Point taken.
Hunter: What do you know about her?
Her name is Adelaide Romano. She’s from the outskirts of Miami, and her family used to own a bakery.
Hunter: That’s all?
She’s also been convicted of fraud for ghostwriting an online dating profile.
Hunter: … I don’t know what to say.
I know, isn’t she intriguing?
Hunter: Intriguing isn’t the word I would’ve used, but okay.
When can I expect to hear back?
Hunter: Give me a day or two.
Hunter: So you don’t even know what this girl looks like?
Nope.
Hunter: I have no words.
Hunter: Gotta go. Practice. Talk soon.
Bye little bro
Hunter: Stop calling me that.
It took Hunter two fucking days to get back to me. Two. Fucking. Days.
I almost regretted entrusting him with the task, suspecting he was taking his sweet time just to irritate me. On the other hand, I was a little proud, since I was certain his pettiness was something he’d picked up from me.
The bounty of his hunt made it all worthwhile, though, and I swiped greedily through all the files he’d compiled until I struck gold.
The air was knocked out of my lungs as I hurriedly scanned the handful of pictures showcasing my little devil.
Fuck. Adelaide Romano was stunning.
Glowing skin, long brown, wavy hair and the deepest brown eyes, like melting pools of chocolate. An electrifying heat sent my blood pumping and I could feel every inch of my body coming alive as I tried to take in every detail of her on the screen.
The merest dusting of freckles graced the bridge of her nose, almost invisible against her tanned skin. I vowed to myself to count them and memorize every single one until I could draw their pattern in my fucking sleep.
Somehow, she’d surprised me again. She was simultaneously not at all what I had expected and everything I could have dreamed of.
I had imagined her with every conceivable eye color, body type and hair color , and yet I would never have been able to conjure her up.
I went back to the pages I’d skipped and scoured every last piece of information my little brother had found for me.
She hadn’t lied in her letters. Everything was there: the failed bakery, the odd jobs and the fraud conviction. Her father had indeed died when she was twenty, making her twenty-five now, and her mother had moved to England, where a good portion of Addy’s extended family appeared to live.
Why hadn’t she gone to England after she lost the bakery? Why did she stay in Florida all alone?
This woman had so many facets, and I wanted to discover them all, collect them, hoard them all for myself.
My little devil would never be lonely again. Right now however, things were going my way. A lonely Addy would be much easier to integrate into my plans.
My thumb swiped back to her pictures on its own accord, greedily taking her in again.
Long brown hair framing a heart-shaped face, with large, almond-shaped eyes in a deep shade of brown contrasting against olive-toned skin. Objectively, none of her features stood out; nothing demanded one’s attention.
But to me, it was like seeing the sun for the first time.
A sense of satisfaction thrummed deep in my chest because it felt like I was the only person aware of how truly special Adelaide Romano was, inside and out.
And she was going to be fucking mine.