Celeste;
"As much as your offer sounds tempting," I let my lips curl, "I'll pass."
Not like I even need it. Perhaps the real Montagna daughter will jump in ecstasy at his offer. Not me. My own vendetta comes first.
Fernandez chuckles, though I catch an edge in his gaze at my blatant refusal. His head tilts slightly, like he's trying to peel me open layer by layer without even touching me.
Someone has ego issues, huh.
"You really don't know anything about your family's disappearance, do you?" his voice grates through the darkness swirling around me. Slow and deliberate. Like he's testing where I'll crack.
The question lifts a weight pressing on my chest. I'd thought he knew I was an imposter. His question just proved me wrong.
Thank fuck.
"Why are you the only one alive?" He probes, like it's some miraculous big deal. Which, in fact, it is.
"Because I'm smart?" The bite in my voice doesn't go unnoticed.
"Oh…" He drawls, a mocking edge curling around the word. "You sure are."
But the expression on his face says he believes otherwise. Which nips at my nerves. But at the reminder that he isn't referring to my person—Celeste Vechi—I release an unbothered exhale.
His sigh follows next, low and measured. Sounding like he's bored of our interaction. "Be good, you know," he tells me. "You're going to be here for a long time."
The smile on his mouth makes a prickling sensation crawl up my spine. I glare at him through the dark haze, terror clutching my lungs at his malevolent intent.
Just fucking great. How am I supposed to get myself out of a mess like this?
The sound of Fernandez's boots retreating echoes in the darkness, a frown marring my face.
"What did Ruggiero take from you?" Knowing the man, it must be something very valuable. Seems he has a hard-on for taking people's possessions. As long as the agenda serves him right.
Fernandez pauses, already at the door. I feel it before I hear him—the shift in air, the way the space tightens like it's bracing for something. "Something worth fighting for," comes the cold response.
It isn't really an answer, but I'm not surprised…not even in the slightest.
"Same," I mutter softly, the word swallowed by the dense, stale air.
My pulse hums with static at the thought that I'll be at the receiving end of another man's sins. And as much as I'd like to deny it, I can't—the fear that's slowly spreading its venom through my veins. That I'm all alone here. In this.
"How long?" losing my spark, I ask him, in defeat. The words falling out soft and fragile.
"Careful," he murmurs, voice dropping lower, right against my face. "That sounded a lot like fear."
My jaw tightens, but I don't pull away. I can't.
"Should I not be?" I shoot back, quieter now. Controlled. Even though my pulse is pounding like it wants out of my chest.
A soft huff of amusement ghosts across his lips.
"You tell me," he says.
I remain silent anyway.
Fernandez already has his fingers curled around the knob of the rusted metal door. "As long as they can hold on for," I hear the snark in his voice, aware that my light has shriveled within itself.
The door closes behind him, submerging me in a darkness even blacker than before. The click of it, an announcement heralding my demons.
They don't hesitate. They swarm me at once.
Without even waiting for me to fall asleep so they can haunt me in the form of nightmares. No, they thrive on my fear.
And right now, I fear the dark. They feed on that.
But I refuse to succumb. So I let my mind drift, carried over to a cool night breeze caressing my skin, back against an alcove wall as wet masculine growls make my ears feel heavy…pregnant with sin.
Equally wet lips trailing across my skin, making every place they touch ache with undecipherable need and want.
I drift to the visceral singe of large, strong palms on my waist, burning through the fabric of my dress that is now muddied and stiff, all kinds of unpleasant odors clinging to it.
If only he'd just gone further…deeper. Maybe those fiery, burning lips on mine inste—
My eyes fly open. What the fuck am I thinking?!
Shame and guilt drag over me in one long, sweeping stroke, at the appalling realization that instead of being with my fiancé…I'd been entangled with his brother.
My pulse pounds harder, turning my insides warm, molten, and all shades of messed up.
This…this is not right. This is not what I signed up for. I'm falling off track and it's not fucking fair.
My throat burns with all the emotions overwhelming me at once. I want to scream. I need something to ground me.
Prayers answered—bloodied rug and blood-stained walls seeping onto the carpeted floor flash behind my eyes.
A hole between my father's brows, and red leaking from my mother's chest.
It plays out like it's happening right in front of me.
And something cracks in my chest all over again. I give in, feeling my resolve snap back into place—my purpose for wanting to live.
And then I remember, today is supposed to be my wedding day. The intended beginning of my plan.
Panic sets in. "Fuck."