97 | Him
The therapy room feels peaceful, its gray walls inviting, the couch beneath me soft, pulling me in as I sit with my fingers twisting in my lap.
Dr. Navarro sits across from me, her notebook on her knee, her eyes warm but piercing, like she can spot the shadows I try to bury.
It's been a week since the Costa Ball, since Luciano killed Ciara, my sister, my nightmare, and fucked me against the wall, claiming me in a way that still sets my skin on fire.
I keep that locked deep, too raw, too sacred to spill.
Dr. Navarro's asking about the ball, her voice steady, drawing me back from my thoughts.
"So, Aurelia, tell me about the ball," she says, her glasses glinting. "You worked so hard on it. Was it everything you hoped?"
I smile, the memory of that night, before the blood, before the warehouse, sparkling like a dream I can share.
"It was perfect," I say, my voice bright, leaning forward. "Everything I wanted. Candles everywhere, violins playing, masks making it all magical, like a Shakespeare story. People loved it, said it was the best Costa event that they had seen so far."
My heart lifts, proud, but I stop short of the truth.
Of Luciano's knife. Ciara's dead body. Our bodies crashing together afterwards.
Dr. Navarro nods, jotting a note, her expression encouraging. "That sounds incredible. You sound so proud. And Luciano? How was he during it?"
My smile softens, my chest warming at his name.
"He was... everything," I say, my voice quieter, reverent. "He was there, supporting me, looking at me like I was the only one in the room. I love him so much, Dr. Navarro. He makes me feel safe, like I can do anything."
I don't say how he killed for me. How his love is a wildfire, dark and consuming. How it's us against the world.
She tilts her head, studying me, her pen pausing. "It sounds like Luciano is your favorite person, Aurelia. He has been for a long time, hasn't he?"
I nod, quick, no hesitation, because it's true.
"Of course he is," I say, my fingers stilling, my voice steady. "He's my everything. We had a setback... a while back, some trust stuff and things with my sister... But I love him now because I know he'd do anything for me. Anything."
Dr. Navarro leans back, her expression thoughtful, not judging.
"That's a powerful connection, Aurelia. With BPD, having a favorite person can be a double-edged sword, a source of incredible strength but also a real challenge.
He sounds like your anchor, your safe place when the world feels like it's crumbling, giving you a sense of purpose, of being loved in a way that fills those empty spaces that BPD can carve out.
But those setbacks, like the trust issues you mentioned, they hit hard, don't they?
With a favorite person, every doubt, every hint of distance, can feel like abandonment, like the ground's slipping away.
It's not just a fight, it's a storm in your heart, making you question if you're enough, if they'll stay.
That intensity, that need for them to be your everything, it's part of what makes the love so vivid, but it can also leave you raw, vulnerable, when things shake.
Have you noticed that with Luciano, how those moments amplify your emotions, good and bad? "
I swallow, the truth of that stinging.
My BPD making every betrayal, every secret, feel like the end of the world.
"Yeah..." I admit, my voice softer, eyes dropping to my hands.
"When I thought he was hiding things, it was like.
.. like I was losing him, losing myself.
I'd spiral, feel empty, like I wasn't enough.
.. But he always pulls me back in the darkest way possible, shows me I'm his world, too. "
She nods, writing something, her voice gentle. "Luciano seems to ground you, but it's also important to find balance, to feel whole in yourself, too. Have you been using the skills we've worked on, like grounding techniques, when those spirals hit?"
I think about it.
The breathing exercises. The journaling. They work, they really work, but sometimes...
"I have," I say, "They help... But with him, it's different. He doesn't just ground me, because even when we fight, I know he'd never let me go."
Dr. Navarro smiles, understanding.
"That's beautiful, and it shows how deeply you feel. But with a favorite person, those feelings can be overwhelming, like they're everything, all at once. Have you talked to Luciano about how your BPD shapes this, how much he means to you?"
I bite my lip, hesitating.
"Not... exactly. I mean, he knows I love him, that he's my everything. But the BPD stuff, the way I need him sometimes, like I can't breathe without him... I don't want him to think I'm weak."
Her eyes soften.
No judgment.
Just care.
"It's not weakness, Aurelia. It's part of you, and sharing that with him could make you closer, help him understand your world. You've said he'd do anything for you, maybe that includes understanding this, too."
I nod, slow, the idea settling, warm but scary.
"Maybe," I say, my voice quiet. "I want to. I just... I love him so much, Dr. Navarro. He's my home, no matter what."
I don't say how he killed Ciara. How he tortured Leonardo. How his darkness matches mine.
She writes another note, her voice steady. "That love is a gift, and it's clear it's mutual. Let's keep working on balancing it with your own strength, so you can feel that home in yourself, too. How does that sound?"
"Good," I say, smiling, my heart full of him.
??
The therapy session with Dr. Navarro hums in my head like a half-remembered song.
But my mind is on him. I need him now, his touch, his voice, so I head to his office, my heart light, eager for his eyes on me.
I push open the door, expecting Luciano alone, maybe leaning over his desk, all sharp jaw and rolled-up sleeves, ready to pull me close.
But he's not alone.
Chase lounges in a chair, legs stretched out, a whiskey glass dangling in his hand.
Luciano's behind his desk, suit jacket slung over his chair, his dark shirt unbuttoned at the collar, looking like a mafia don, but his face is tight, guarded, until he sees me.
His eyes light up, warm, possessive, and my heart flips, because even in a room with someone else, I'm his world.
"What's he doing here?" I ask, tilting my head at Chase, my voice playful but sharp as I step inside, shutting the door.
Luciano leans back, a smirk tugging his lips, his gaze never leaving me, like I'm the only thing that matters.
"Chase knew the truth," he says, voice low, smooth, but with a bite, like he's daring Chase to squirm. "Knew Ciara was alive."
Chase shifts, his grin faltering, and he sets his glass down, hands up like he's caught.
"Hey, I never thought Luciano would kill her," he says, his voice light, trying to laugh it off, but his eyes dart between us, sensing the weight of what he's stepped into. "I figured she'd just... stay gone, you know?"
I don't listen to him, I just saunter to my husband, my hips swaying, every step a tease, and slide onto his lap, straddling him, my hands cupping his face, his stubble rough under my fingers.
I lean in and kiss Luciano. His hands grip my hips, pulling me closer, a low groan in his throat as he kisses me back, like we're alone, like Chase doesn't exist. His lips are whiskey and heat, claiming me, and I melt, my body his, my heart racing, because this is us.
We only break apart when Chase lets out a loud, exaggerated sigh, slumping in his chair.
"Get a room, you two," he groans, rolling his eyes, but there's a grin, like he can't help but find us amusing, even if we scare him a little.
I laugh, still perched on Luciano's lap, my fingers tracing his jaw.
"This is our room, Chase," I tease, sticking my tongue out again, playful, bold. "Maybe you're the one who needs to find a door."
Luciano chuckles, his hand sliding up my back, warm, possessive, his eyes glinting with pride.
"She's got a point," he says, voice a rumble, smirking at Chase. "Lucky I don't toss you out myself."
Chase raises his hands, mock surrender, his grin wider now.
"Alright, alright," he says, "But damn, you two are intense."
I kiss Luciano again. His mouth moves against mine like he's trying to memorize me. Own me. Remind me I already belong to him.
We pull away when we hear Chase standing up, grabbing his glass, shaking his head.
"I'm out before you start round one," he says, laughing, heading for the door. "Stay crazy, you lovebirds."
The door clicks shut, and it's just us, Luciano's warmth, wrapping me tight.
"You're dangerous," Luciano breathes, lips grazing my ear, his voice thick with lust and something like awe.
"Only in your arms," I whisper back, kissing him slowly, like a vow, like he's the only truth I need.