HE HATES ME NOT

HATE & LOVE DUET BOOK TWO

RINA KENT

ISABELLA STARLING

He Hates Me Not Copyright © 2020 by Rina Kent & Isabella Starling

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

CONTENTS

Author Note

Blurb

Playlist

1.  Jasper

2.  Georgina

3.  Jasper

4.  Georgina

5.  Jasper

6.  Georgina

7.  Jasper

8.  Georgina

9.  Jasper

10.  Georgina

11.  Jasper

12.  Georgina

13.  Jasper

14.  Georgina

15.  Jasper

16.  Georgina

17.  Jasper

18.  Georgina

19.  Jasper

20.  Georgina

21.  Jasper

22.  Georgina

23.  Jasper

24.  Georgina

25.  Jasper

26.  Georgina

Epilogue - Jasper

What’s Next?

About Rina Kent

Also By Rina Kent

About Isabella Starling

Also By Isabella Starling

AUTHOR NOTE

Hello reader friend,

This book is a dark stalker romance with extreme dubious situations.

He Hates Me Not is the second book of a duet and is NOT standalone.

Hate & Love Duet:

#1 He Hates Me

#2 He Hates Me Not

BLURB

Once upon a time, there was a girl.

She hid secrets and scars behind a blinding smile.

Until I decided to confiscate that smile, watch it, trap it, own it.

She calls it an obsession, a madness, but she’s seen nothing.

The moment I noticed her, her fate was sealed.

Then she became a key player in my unhinged game.

Once upon a time, there was a girl, a liar, a fraud.

Mine.

PLAYLIST

Tag, You’re It - Melanie Martinez

They Don’t Want What We Want - Asking Alexandria

Killer In The Mirror - Set It Off

Godsent - Smash Into Pieces

Despicable - grandson

Destroy Me - grandson

Thoughts & Prayers - grandson

Believer - Imagine Dragons

Demons - Imagine Dragons

Walking The Wire - Imagine Dragons

Break My Baby - KALEO

Mindreader - A Day To Remember

Lonely - Palaye Royale

Heat Seeker - Dreamers & grandson

Plasticine Dreams - Boston Manor

Roses - Stand Atlantic

Sometimes - Kodaline

Cold - The Coronas

You And I - Barns Courtney

Straight to My Head - You Me At Six

You can find the playlist on Spotify.

1

JASPER

The chase is thrilling.

The decimation of the human mind, turning them into creatures of survival just to repeat it all over again isn’t only euphoric but also a turn on.

It’s a play of cat and mouse, or rather of predator and prey. People don’t realize they’re done for even when a predator is on their tail.

The adrenaline keeps them high and mighty; it tells them things that will never happen like maybe they’ll survive, maybe the nightmare will be over.

It won’t.

The adrenaline is a false sense of hope, one last hurrah before everything crashes down.

Hope is brutal, that way.

Hope is one of the reasons why the human mind can take so much torture in the span of hours or days.

Twirling the remote in my fingers, I stalk up to where Petal has disappeared behind the trees. If she wasn’t so clueless about her sensual world, she would’ve realized she left footprints behind in the black soil. Her tiny feet are etched in the ground like tattletales and I easily follow them. Tracking has always been one of my fun activities. Humans leave a lot of trails behind, and it’s usually the reason for their doom.

I’ve learned early on to never be blindsided, even by my own self.

It was the only way to survive.

The sky has turned dark red and soon, the night will take claim in the calm Sicilian countryside.

This was my family’s house in Italy. There’s a winery in the distance — it’s a vast field of grapes for the best wine produced not only in Italy, but in the whole of Europe.

Small bursts of memories started coming back to me after the chat I had with Enzo Morelli on the way here. My father, Francesco Vitallio, was slowly steering clear from the shady mafia activity and decided to settle back in Sicily for good.

He was wrapping up the family business in the States. My mother was singing joyfully, reminding me that we’ll go back to our home and lands. My nonna was telling me stories about my late nonno and how they loved the land, the air, the people.

Those were my most joyful memories.

Until Costas wiped them from the face of the earth.

Along with my entire family, my mama, my nonna, my baby sister. They’re all gone, and my form of revenge? Working for their killer.

I briefly close my eyes at the onslaught of emotions and fragments of memories.

Lucio and Paolo will pay in blood. Every last Costa will — starting with my little Petal who thinks she can escape me.

I hit the button on the remote, shocking her by the collar around her neck. A slight yelp comes from my right before it’s quickly muffled.

I smirk, imagining her wrapping her tiny hands around her mouth to hide her presence. What she doesn’t know is that a slight sound is all I need to track her down.

She’s naked, barefoot, in an unfamiliar place, with an electric collar around her throat. She’s at her most vulnerable state, and if she thinks she’ll escape me, then maybe my little Petal doesn’t know me so well after all.

“Pet…” I drawl, making her aware of my position. “Are you running? Hiding?”

There’s a small rustle. She was probably lurking behind a tree but after hearing my voice, she ran for it again.

My poor little Petal doesn’t know that not only her fate, but her entire life was sealed.

Joseph or Georgina — or whatever the fuck her name is — is my first step in my revenge against the Costa clan.

I’ll extract every death out of her flesh and then theirs.

Only, that’s not the reason behind my rock-hard cock — it’s the fact that she’s not only mine but she’s also at my complete mercy.

She’s mine to ruin, own, and fuck senseless without the outside world’s interference.

If this isn’t her wildest fantasy coming true, I don’t know what is.

Is it more than what she signed up for? Yes. Do I fucking care? No.

We played house in her apartment, so it’s time to play fucking house under my turf.

“You better run, Pet. If I catch you, it’s game over.” My voice echoes in the eerie silence of the forest surrounding the winery and the olive trees field in the opposite direction.

My nonno had this forest as a form of camouflage against the outside world. It was made to shield our extended families, the farmers who worked for us, the people who had our protection.

This place used to be heaven until the Costas made it fucking hell.

Twigs crush in the distance. My little Petal must be getting desperate, which means she’ll make mistakes. I can almost taste her fear, see the trembling of her lips, smell the sweat coating her skin.

My dick hardens against my pants and I don’t bother to readjust it anymore. She’ll get it unhinged and out of control.

My steps turn silent as I follow the trail of the twigs crushing. I stop a short distance away from where her skin is visible.

I smirk as she lifts her leg to rub it against her other calf.

My little Petal appears comfortable in her hideout. I sneak up to her, still twirling the collar’s remote in my hand.

The closer I get, the more I’m assaulted by her scent, strawberry, lilac and...fear. Her bare shoulder is shaking and her elbow is jutting out. It’s only when I’m closer that I realize it’s because she’s still wrapping a hand around her mouth to muffle any sound she makes.

I hit the button on the remote and she startles, nearly toppling over with the force of it.

A smile tugs on my lips when I’m right behind the tree as she struggles with the shock of the collar.

“Got you, Pet,” I whisper in a low, dark tone.

She yelps, but she doesn’t stop to look back at me.

Smart pet.

Her legs take control and she runs ahead. Her feet scraping against the ground and her black hair flying behind her like a cocoon.

Her ass and toned legs appear pasty white in the darkness of the dusk.

She chances a look behind her and when she finds me on her trail, the deep gray of her eyes widens.

Her head must be filled with different thoughts and her chest is crowded with the crippling fear assaulting her out of nowhere.

At this point, she must know she won’t lose me no matter what direction she chooses. I keep my pace steady in a jog as she struggles with decision making.

She surprises me when she stops abruptly. I expect her to give up, but she wraps her tiny hands around an olive tree and starts climbing, her naked limbs molding to the trunk.

A chuckle rips from me as I stand at the foot of the tree. In no time, she’s halfway up, using the branches to aid her in her quest.

She’s smart. I give her that. In the wild, when smaller animals can’t escape their predators, they climb on top of the tree and wait until the bigger animals get bored and leave. That’s the tactic she went for. What she doesn’t know is that I’m not a normal predator.

“You think I can’t follow, Pet?”

She glares down at me, hugging the branch with both her hands and legs like it’s a lifeline. It is.

“You’ll eventually get tired.” I tilt my head, enjoying the view of her cunt from the position.

“Fuck you,” she snarls at me, making a grab for another branch.

“I was going to play nice, but nice isn’t your thing, is it?” I hit the button on the remote and she loses her balance.

Petal shrieks, eyes closing, as her limbs fail her and she falls down.

Down.

Down...

And into my arms.

Her naked body snuggles against mine. Goosebumps and perspiration cover her skin, but her nipples are hardened in tight buds, probably because of the cold.

There’s a thrill in catching prey, in having them at your disposal to devour and do whatever the fuck you please with them.

There’s a small relief as she slowly opens her eyes and realizes she didn’t crash to the ground, but the relief is short-lived.

Her situation quickly catches up to her and she tries to fight me, to get away, but doesn’t she know that prey never escape once they’re caught?

I shock her again, and she goes completely still, her lips falling in an “O”.

“S-stop doing that.” She tries to scold, but her voice is weak, trembling with arousal, with how much she secretly loves it.

“You’ve been caught, do you know what happens next?”

She shakes her head frantically. “D-Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t do whatever you’re thinking about doing.”

“You mean what we agreed upon?”

She juts her chin. “I didn’t agree on anything.”

“Oh, but you did. You made a run for it.” My voice drops. “And you lost.”

“Jasper,” she warns, her voice plagued with tremors.

I tighten my arm around her thighs. “What?”

“Let’s talk about this, okay?”

“I’m not interested in talking. You know why?”

“W-why?”

“Because I’m going to fuck you in the ass, Pet.”

ALL THE WAY back to the house, my little Petal has done everything to get away. She scratched me, bit me, kicked her feet.

That only managed to get her shocked, draw out her fight and get my dick harder — if that’s even possible.

By the time we arrive back in the room she woke up in, her energy has waned, and she’s panting as if coming down after a marathon.

I throw her on the bed, and she gets on all fours, trying to crawl away. I grab her by the ankles and cuff her with the leather restraints on the bedpost’s metal bars.

Her stay here is all prepared ever since she was sleeping.

Petal tugs on the cuffs, squirming, but it only makes the restraints tighten around her skin, and it must fucking hurt.

When it’s about survival, people ignore a lot of things like pain and discomfort. Their end goal becomes everything they want, everything they see.

It’s a mistake. Sooner or later, that pain will catch up to them.

By the time she nearly exhausted herself to the point of no return, I already cuffed her legs and wrists to the bed, making her spread-eagled for my pleasure.

Once she realizes that, Petal stops her useless flailing about, her lips twisting as her head falls on the pillow. “Jasper…don’t make me hate you.”

“You didn’t hate me when I was making all your fantasies come true,” I muse.

“I did.”

I round the bed so I’m standing in her direct view and yank off my shirt, pants and kick my shoes away.

Her gray eyes fill with lust as she watches my every move with a certain expression that she only gives me. An expression where her lips part and her cheeks redden. An expression that says she wants to devour me as much as I want to eat her alive.

“Doesn’t look like you hate what you’re seeing right now, my pet.”

She traps her lower lip under her teeth before she quickly releases it. “If you do this, I won’t forgive you.”

Her words piss me off and I round the bed again until I’m in direct view behind her.

I shock her and simultaneously slap her porcelain ass cheek. The sound of flesh against flesh echoes in the air. She gasps and it soon turns into a moan as I massage her assaulted skin.

“Do what? Hmm? Make you my slut?” I spank her again and again and she writhes against her bindings even as her ass wiggles in my direction. “Can you smell your arousal in the air, my dirty little slut?”

“Jas…” she whimpers, arching her neck so she can stare at me.

I slap her ass in three successive strikes until she shrieks. While she’s riding the pain, I thrust two fingers inside her soaked cunt. We groan at the same time as she buries her face in the sheet to hide from her pleasure, but there’s no hiding from the way her body reacts to me.

How her cunt opens for me, wiggling against me demanding all that I can give.

So I do just that. I finger-fuck her while simultaneously spanking her ass.

“Oh, God, Jas...Jas…”

She’s so close, I can taste her release on the tip of my tongue.

“Get on your knees and flatten your tits on the bed,” I order her and she scrambles to obey, her knees shaking, her porcelain skin slightly scraped by the tree and whatever scratched her on her run.

“You’re not going to forgive me, huh?” My voice is low, dark, as she lowers her cunt against my fingers, chasing her orgasm.

“Do you think pets get a say in what happens to them?”

She mewls, her body covered in perspiration.

“Answer me, my filthy slut.”

“N-no,” she moans.

“That’s right. They don’t.”

I remove my fingers from her and she growls in frustration.

“That’s for having a smart fucking mouth, Pet.”

“J-Jas, please.” She shakes her ass, demanding I go back. “I’ll be good, I promise I’ll be good.”

I smack her ass and she yelps. “Good how?”

She hesitates before blurting. “I-I’ll be a good slut.”

A smirk tugs on my lips. “A good slut, huh?”

“Yes, I promise.”

I grab my rock hard cock and run it against the juices of her cunt. She moans aloud, her nails digging into her palms. “You’re going to be a good girl.”

“Yes! Yes!”

I run my cock up to her other hole and she stiffens, her back turning rigid. “J-Jas...no.”

“Good girls don’t get to choose.”

“Jasper, it’s…”

“What?”

She swallows, then her voice comes out in a breathy moan. “I-It’s my first time.”

“All the better,” I whisper as I drive the first inch of my cock inside her tight hole.

She shrieks, the sound echoing in the silence.

I thrust three fingers in her soaked cunt, and she gasps then moans not sure which one to fall into. The torture of my dick entering her virgin hole or the pleasure of my fingers inside her needy pussy.

“You love being this helpless, don’t you, Pet?” I growl as I drive in another inch.

“P-please...please Jas, I’m begging you.”

“For what?”

“I…” She trails off and I add another inch as I continue to fuck her with my fingers.

“You don’t know?” I whisper.

I curl my fingers inside her and she shrieks in the silence. Her orgasm rips through her body in a shudder. I use the chance to slam my dick all the way in, making her scream in both pleasure and pain. I groan deep in my throat at the way she chokes me.

Usually, during their first anal experience, they’d try to squeeze shut, but not my Petal. Could be because of her orgasm or the fact she’s enjoying this more than she’ll ever admit.

Her release slowly subsides, and she sighs in relief, probably thinking the torture is over.

My little Petal has no idea what she signed up for.

In this position, her head on the mattress, her black strands sticking to her nape and her skin coated in sweat, she seems like a forbidden fantasy; the type you dream about and can never get enough of.

I start moving into her choking hold and she shrieks, squirming against her bindings. “Jasper! It hurts.”

It’s probably because her juices are the only lube I used and it’s starting to dry out.

“Don’t you like it when it hurts, my slut?” I pick up my pace and smack her already red ass for good measure. It’s now covered with my fingerprints, the milky white skin marked for my own pleasure.

“You like it when I drive you to the edge.” I fuck her harder. “When all you can do is fall.”

She mewls against the sheets, her shrieks of pain slowly turning into moans.

“Good girl, my pet.”

Those words make her moan through her sobs.

To reward her, I flick her swollen clit over and over again. Her head slides against the sheets as she shifts her ass against my dick, taking more of me inside her.

By the time I slap her again, she’s coming all over my cock, milking me, choking me, making me ram into her like a madman in need of an asylum.

My little Petal has become a vital part of my life, there’s no way in fuck I’ll be able to enjoy anyone else now that I’ve tasted her, had her completely at my beckoning.

“You’re mine, Pet. All fucking mine,” I growl as I pull out of her and come all over her red ass.

She moans as my cum coats her stinging skin, marking her, making her mine in all sense of the word.

As I watch my seed trickling down her thighs, sick pleasure envelops me like a halo.

I gather it on my fingers and smear it all over her reddened skin and then fuck it into her tight cunt, making her mewl in both pleasure and exhaustion.

Now that I owned every inch of her, there’s no way in fuck I’m giving this up.

Petal might be my way of revenge against her family name. She might be part of the game I’ll play against her father and uncle, but my mind is filled with different types of thoughts. Damning thoughts that shouldn’t belong in my end goal.

She’s mine.

My captive.

My property.

She fucking belongs to me.

This is only the beginning of what I’ll do to her.

2

GEORGINA

I’m done doing what Jasper tells me to do. I’m going back to Chicago.

His assault is still fresh on my mind. The way he fucked me, pushing his fingers into me, forcing his cock into my ass despite my protests. I hate him for what he did to me, and I hate him more for making me want his cruel torture.

As I stand in front of the door, waiting for his arrival, my heart threatens to beat straight out of my chest. Jasper has given me special instructions; I’m to wait on my knees by the door for his arrival. I don’t even know where he goes when he disappears. I’m guessing to get groceries — I haven’t seen anyone else in the room I’m locked in, and the food’s got to come from somewhere.

I raise my head from my position on the ground when I hear the key turning in the lock.

He’s back.

The door opens and I quickly look down again, so Jasper won’t bust me breaking the rules. He closes the door and sets something down. Then, his fingers wrap around my collar and he jerks me forward.

“Look up, Petal,” he demands, and my eyes fearfully find his. He’s so handsome when he's like this — filled with dark intents and plans to torment me. “That’s my good pet. Have you been good today?”

Every single day, the same question. And he’ll know if I lie, so there’s no point in hiding things from him.

“I didn’t come,” I mutter, and he pets my cheek as a reward.

“Good girl. You were saving it for me, weren’t you?”

I stay quiet, my stubbornness emanating from my stiff movements. I’m upset with him, and this time, I’m not afraid to show it.

I was quiet when he took my last virginity.

I was quiet when he forced me to come for him over and over again as I cried.

But not this time.

He seems to notice it, and his brows knit together with displeasure. “Now what, Pet?”

I pick myself up from the floor and he glares at me. I know he didn’t give me permission to get up, but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t get lost in the fantasy and forget about the real world.

When I speak up, I try to make my voice strong and confident, but it comes out squeaky and scared instead. “I want to go back home.”

He laughs as if I’ve just told a joke, and now it’s my turn to glare at him.

“Jasper! It’s not a joke. I said I want to go home."

“What do you have in Chicago that you don’t have here?” He smooths his fingers over my cheek and I shiver involuntarily. Damn him for what he does to my unwilling body. “This is your home now, Petal. Don’t you like it?”

“No,” I reply sternly, crossing my arms and stepping aside so he can’t reach me anymore. “I want to go home. I have my cats there. And my friends. And my job. My whole life is there. I don’t want to stay in the middle of nowhere in Italy. I don’t even speak the language.”

“You can learn.” He shrugs. “It’s not like you get to see people, anyway.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s bothering me. You’re not seriously planning on keeping me here forever?”

“Oh, but I am, and you know I will. So I suggest you just stop fighting this and accept it. The sooner you do, the better off you’ll be.”

“Are you crazy? What type of person kidnaps people anymore? This isn’t the ice ages, you can’t keep me against my will and...torture me.”

“Torture you,” he muses, his lips tugging in a cruel smirk. “That’s not what you were saying last night when you begged for more. Do you want a reminder?”

“N-no.”

“Maybe I do.” He backs me up against the wall, smelling my neck like a wild animal as he possessively grabs my tits, pulling them from the flimsy nightgown. “Tell me what happened last night, Pet.”

“No,” I manage, though this time it’s soft and barely audible.

“Tell me.” His voice is controlled and smooth, but I know the calm’s the biggest before the storm.

“I begged,” I manage to get out through gritted teeth.

“And what did you beg for, Pet?”

“For you to fuck my ass.” I hate him. I want to kill him. And at the same time, I’m dripping between my legs. I cross them self-consciously as I feel the tell-tale drops of wetness slide down my thighs.

Damn you, Jas. I never get to win with you.

“You did, didn’t you?” He chuckles, painfully pinching my nipples with his strong fingers. “You wanted it so much, and it’s only been a few weeks since you got your first taste. I’d say I’ve turned you into quite the greedy anal whore. Wouldn’t you agree, Pet?”

I tremble, but I refuse to speak as he continues his assault of my tits.

“Answer me, or else.”

“I’m not greedy and I’m not a whore.”

He pinches my nipple hard and I cry out. “Stop it. I’m going home.”

“You’re going nowhere.” His voice holds a cruel finality. “You’re staying right here where I am. In your place.”

I see my chance of escape and take it, pushing him away and stumbling toward the door. Since that first night, I haven’t tried to run, but today, I will. I’m done getting lost in the fantasy.

Done being Jasper’s willing toy.

I manage to get to the door, throwing it open when he appears right behind me. Before I make it one step outside, Jasper grabs me by the arm and drags me back inside. I thrash against him, resisting him with everything I have in me.

It’s no use.

He’s way stronger and crueler and unmovable.

He throws me down on the floor, and I glare at him as I pick myself up so I’m standing toe-to-toe. Or as much toe to toe as the height difference allows.

“You’re a monster,” I say in a cold, hard voice. “I don’t know why I ever thought you could be anything else.”

He wraps a loose fist around my neck. I swallow thickly, hoping I haven’t just signed my death sentence. The air charges with unmistakable tension as he shows me his other side — the devil’s side.

“You’re calling me a monster, Pet?” Even though he’s speaking with a calm tone, shivers crawl up my spine. “Fine. I can live with that. But do you know who’s also a monster? You.”

“W-What?” I stutter, struggling to get free of his grip and failing. “What do you mean?”

“Your family.” He releases me as if he burned his fingers on my throat. “Your family is a nest of snakes.”

“You don’t know anything about my family.”

“I know more than you do.”

His words make my blood run cold, and I throw him a questioning look, waiting for him to go on. I have a feeling I won’t enjoy the punchline of whatever he’s about to say.

“I told you that you’re a mafia princess, but guess which mafia?”

“What the hell are you talking about, Jasper?”

“You’re a Costa, Petal,” he finally says. “Remember that man you met back in Chicago? He’s your uncle.”

“W-What?” I struggle to make sense of his words, my head pounding with this new information. “Lucio?”

“Yes, Lucio. You’re the Costa heir, and the last member of their clan and you deserve to die for it. The only reason I haven’t finished you yet is..."

My lips tremble but I manage to murmur, “What’s the reason, Jas?”

His mouth forms a thin line.

Tears fill my eyes, burning as they threaten to spill. The amount of information thrown at me all at once makes me go dizzy, but at the same time, it hurts. The fact that I’m even related to a monster like Lucio, or the fact Dad is alive and never looked for me makes me sick.

Or maybe it’s the part about Jasper wanting to kill me.

“Now you know what you are, Pet. You’re just like the rest of them. Just like me.”

“That’s not true.” I wipe at my eyes with the back of my hand. “You’re only saying that to hurt me.”

“It is true. What’s more is that your own family wants you dead. But you know what? You’re not the only person the Costas have hurt. They’ve slaughtered people, my family, and for that, you’ll all pay.”

His family? My chest squeezes at the thought of him losing his family. Jasper was in that boarding school way before I came along. He must’ve been so young back then.

And yet, I don’t allow that to pull me down. His tragedy doesn’t forgive what he’s doing to me. “I have nothing to do with this. I’m not some chess piece you can move around the board as you please. I’m no pawn.”

“That’s exactly what you are, my little pet.” He pushes a strand of hair away from my face and tucks it behind my ear like a doting asshole. “Be a good girl until I get back.”

“Get back? Where are you going?”

He just returned. This place is so empty and scary without him. There’s the sound of owls at night and they never stay quiet. As much as I hate it, at least I sleep when he’s around.

The mansion is old, and from the few glimpses I had during that first night, it’s obvious no one has tended to it in years. Jasper has done his best to make it livable, cleaning the room and aquiring new sheets. At least he had the decency to bring in some of my clothes and toiletries when he kidnapped me.

Kidnapped.

The more I think about it, the more surreal it becomes. But that’s exactly what he did. He kidnapped me and brought me to the middle of nowhere.

He’s not only my tormentor but also my captor now. He’s a nightmare.

So why the hell do I keep seeing that boy from the boarding school whenever he covers me at night? Or whenever he sits me on his lap to eat.

I’m losing my mind, aren’t I?

In the bedroom, he motions to the bed.

“I don’t want to. You’re going to torture me again.”

“Isn’t that the point? Now get on the fucking bed.”

My body shivers in anticipation of his punishment as I climb onto the bed. He ties the ropes around my ankles and then wrists tightly, not tight enough to hurt me, but just enough so I can feel the delicious bite of the rope against my tender skin.

“There, you like being tied up, my pet.”

I swallow against the spark of desire between my legs. “Why are you doing this, Jasper?”

I genuinely want to know. Is he just a sadist, and if he is, does that mean he’d enjoy doing this with someone else? That he’ll get that gleam in his eyes even if it’s another woman tied to his bed?

The thought makes me taste acid.

“I like the thought of you suffering while waiting for me like a good little pet.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s getting old.” His expression darkens. “Stop pretending you don’t love every second of this. I know exactly what you like, what you need. I saw the videos, remember? You can’t hide anything from me.”

When I jut my chin, refusing to respond, he reaches into the bedside table’s drawer and retrieves something I can’t quite see in my position. Then he shows it to me and I stare in horror as he thrusts a vibrator into my opening.

“Jasper, don’t.”

“Oh, but I am and you will love it.”

He pushes a button and the vibrator hums inside me, creating bursts of arousal immediately. My thighs tighten, but with the ropes, I’m unable to move or alleviate the ache. He’s giving me pleasure but not quite enough.

He strokes my hair back, shocking me by the gentle move. “Be a good girl for me, Pet.”

And then he’s gone, leaving me alone, empty, and utterly dissatisfied.

3

JASPER

The house is large enough that even if someone stumbled inside, they couldn’t and wouldn’t get close to the wing where my little Petal stays.

A smile tugs my lips at the thought that she’s dripping all over the vibrator and with nothing to appease her want.

Pet might act tough, but she doesn’t like toys or collars or chains. Actually, she does, but only when I’m there with them. She said it the last time, didn’t she? That it’s not about the fantasy, it’s about the one who’s bringing the fantasy to reality.

Me.

When I go back to her, she’ll be so ready for me, she’ll forget about all the stubbornness and her demand to go back.

She’ll never go back.

It takes me a few hours to do a complete tour of the mansion. It’s old, the walls have gained age after all the years it has spent vacant.

It became the house of ghosts.

My family was shot in Chicago, and for some fucked up reason, I’m glad for it. I don’t know how I would’ve taken it if this place was turned into a bloodfest by the Costas.

I stand in front of the house, my hands in my pockets as I stare in the distance. On the right, there’s a field for grapes. On the left, olive trees. Nonno and my father loved their wine and olive oil.

My gaze filters back to a recliner chair on the patio where Nonno used to sit and hold me on his lap while he read me stories. I remember the day he died due to his heart disease. The number of people who showed up at his funeral was unbelievable to a young child my age.

It was majestic and full of respect. Dad stood proud and told me we were the leaders of the family.

“Responsibility is a duty, not a choice, Alessio.”

I briefly close my eyes as his words filter back into my head.

Even the Costas were there, or at least Emilio and Paolo were, paying respect to Nonno’s death, offering their condolences like rats while they were plotting our demise and how to stab us from behind.

Motherfuckers.

I’ll erase the Costa name just like they erased the Vitallio — or rather tried to. I might go by Jasper Cain now, but I was once Alessio. I was once a proud son of the Vitallio family. I came back after decades but better late than fucking never.

Enzo said this place has been deserted since the massacre in the States.

There are a few seasonal workers, usually illegal migrants, but from what he said, no one forgot the Vitallios.

Enzo’s father had been Dad’s best friend and he was hunted down and killed in his house in Sicily.

The only reason Enzo survived is because Lucio kept him alive to take care of his shipments from here to the States.

The motherfucker must think he’s so invincible that they kept the sons of his enemies alive. Not only that, but he makes them believe he’s their benefactor, too. It’s his God complex.

That day my foster father was beating me the fuck up until he broke my nose, I hit him back and ran away. That’s when Lucio appeared like a savior — or more like a grim fucking reaper. He was waiting for the chance I’d be on my own so he could pounce, and I gave him just that by running away.

Well, Lucio. You’re not the only one with hidden cards.

Once I’m outside, I retrieve my phone and dial his number. On the way here, Enzo provided an untraceable phone. Mine was, but Lucio knew about it, so I don’t trust it anymore.

Not that I completely trust Enzo either, but we share a tragedy and there’s company in that. The need for revenge in his eyes matches the same that’s flowing in my blood.

He answers after two rings. “Lucio Costa.”

“Alessio Vitallio.”

There’s a pause before he speaks in a calm tone. “You figured it out.”

“You thought I never would?”

“I knew there would be a day where you connected the dots. I just thought I would use your dog skills for a bit more.”

I clench my teeth but force myself to remain composed as I speak, “Is that why you sent me to kill Luca? Because he figured it out, too?”

Luca, Lucio’s earlier hitman and number one man, suddenly fell from grace. Lucio told me he betrayed him and therefore he needed to die. I didn’t question it at the time and finished him off.

Now, I’m sure Luca belonged to a family Lucio hurt at some point and he made the mob killer think he saved him, too.

Lucio’s booming laughter echoes through the phone. “Exactly. An animal finishing an animal. Don’t you think it’s poetic?”

When I don’t reply, he continues, “Just like it’s poetic how you saw me as your savior when I shot your whore mother in front of your face. The only reason I didn’t kill you is because it was easier to use you.”

I’m going to kill him and I’ll make it fucking hurt.

It’ll be torture.

No, worse than torture.

There’s this urge inside me to fly to him right now and slice his throat open, but I have enough self-preservation to know it won’t be that easy.

That doesn’t mean I’ll stop. After all, I have the perfect way to provoke his weakness. “How is your search for Paolo’s son going?”

Silence. It goes on for long enough that I know he’s calculating right now.

“That’s none of your business now, is it?” He finally says.

“Maybe it is. Maybe I have him and maybe he’ll be my perfect revenge.”

“Killing him will be doing me a favor, Jasper, not the other way around.”

“Hmm. Curious. I never said anything about killing him.”

“You have no other choice. If I see him or you, both of you will be fucking dead.”

“Who knows, Lucio. Maybe the next time you see us, we’ll be both reigning over your empire.”

I hang up before he can say anything.

A small smile lifts my lips. Lucio won’t know what’s happening to him until it hits him in the fucking face.

My plan is already in motion. I’ll stay under the radar for a while. Lucio will go out of his mind — no doubt, he’ll send men and be frantic, and that’s when I’ll strike.

I’m about to go back to my little Petal’s side, take care of the precious Costa heir, when a black car comes speeding in the distance.

Enzo.

He stops in front of the house and comes out of his Jaguar, appearing smug like he owns the entire place.

“You should get guards.” He leans against his car, crossing his feet at the ankles.

I retrieve a cigarette, light it and blow smoke in his direction. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re a Vitallio and Vitallios rule around here.”

“Still don’t see what’s the point.”

“Aside from the fact that Lucio might come here?”

“He won’t.” I blow another puff of smoke. “If he wanted Sicily, he wouldn’t have planted you in his turf. The Costas aren’t liked around here.”

“Doesn’t mean he won’t send mercenaries.” He releases a breath. “You still have loyal men who would do anything for you.”

“Why would they?”

“Again. Because you’re a fucking Vitallio. Your family’s favor toward them precedes you.”

Nonno’s and Padre’s favor, not mine. I, on the other hand, abandoned the people here and forgot they even existed. Fuck, I even forgot my own damn name.

Still, as my gaze strays on the half-dead fields, there’s some sort of purpose that explodes in my chest.

I want to return to those times where people worked the earth, where this house was open for anyone who loved rich meals and summer festivals.

I want to breathe life back in this place, drink its wine and add its olive oil to my Italian dishes.

And on that table, I’ll be sitting with the woman who has black hair and porcelain skin.

I frown. Where the fuck did that image come from?

“I’ll meet them,” I tell Enzo. “A few at a time.”

“Speak Italian,” he says. “Don’t you dare speak English around here.”

“They’re traditional as fuck. I know that.”

He smiles. “And loyal as fuck, too. They’ve been working the lands with little to no pay just to keep the earth alive.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“You even have a wine cellar. Try it.”

I nod. “Make plans for a small gathering.”

A small smile grazes his lips and his weird eyes with heterochromia flicker between gray and green. “Tonight.”

“Tonight.” I crush my cigarette under my shoe, turning to leave.

My little Petal has been alone for long enough.

“Let’s go to my office.” Enzo’s voice stops me in my tracks.

I glimpse at him over my shoulder. “Why?”

“For preparations. You did well as a killer, but you also need to know who you’re dealing with business-wise.”

He’s right.

Not only do the Costas’ power go beyond borders, but their business arm is as strong as their criminal one. If I want to bring them down, I need to consider all possible angles.

After one last glance at the house, I get into Enzo’s car. My little Petal will be fine until I return.

The vibrator will keep her on the edge for me until I come back to stake my claim.

My lips curve at the thought.

“What do you plan to do with the girl?” Enzo asks me once we’re out of the property.

When we came here, I told him she’s related to Lucio because it was the only way he’d agree to smuggle her back with us on his jet.

I only said she’s a card I’ll use, and that’s all he fucking needs to know. Enzo might be my ally, but no one is allowed near my little Petal.

“She’s on standby for now.”

“On standby,” he repeats, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

“You have a problem with it?”

“She’s a liability, Alessio. Women always are.”

“Let me worry about that.”

“You should get rid of her,” he says. “Or I can do it for you.”

In a second, I have my knife against his throat so close to cutting his artery. “You won’t go within ten meters’ range of her. Is that fucking clear?”

“Dio Mio.” He chuckles.

“I said, is that fucking clear, Enzo?”

“Fine, stronzo.”

“I’ll cut you a new asshole if you go near her.”

He arches a brow. “But if she poses any liability to our plan, she’s out.”

I retrieve my knife from his throat.

Even I recognize how much of a liability she can be.

Pet is a threat to my fucking life.

And I still can’t get over this obsession I have with her.

4

GEORGINA

What seems like forever passes.

Jasper doesn’t let me go and he doesn’t seem like he ever will.

Every day, he tortures me. Every day, he makes me beg him to fuck me every way possible.

Every day, I feel like I’m disappearing and losing myself to him. I wake up and plan to defy him, to continue my quest to run, but the moment he touches me, it’s like I can’t live without him.

It’s dangerous.

He’s dangerous.

And I need to get the fuck away from here before I have no way to escape. Before my life flashes and finishes right before my eyes.

There’s a woman, Salli, who takes care of me. And by taking care of me, I mean she brings me meals and clean clothes, but she always leaves them in front of the door. She only comes in when Jasper gives her permission.

Whenever I’m bound and gagged and waiting for him, I’d make sounds to draw her in, to ask her to untie me, but she doesn’t dare to step in.

Jasper is scary, even to her. Jasper is a power all on its own, I felt it and I still do with every step I take.

He doesn’t only own my body, but he’s also reviving those messed up parts of my brain. A part of me enjoys it — more than it should.

A part of me looks forward to what he’ll do to me when he walks in the door, or what toy he’ll thrust inside me before he leaves.

Today, he seemed to be in a hurry so he left without pushing anything inside me. And I don’t know why I’ve felt disappointed since this morning.

He slowly started to give me a walking room, so I’m not always tied to the bed, but I’m not allowed to leave the room either. He even has the door locked. I tried and there’s no way to open it.

I watched him through the window. I do every day. I watch how his face turns stone-cold the moment he steps out of the house. Many men have started to gather around the mansion. Most of them gesticulate wildly while speaking and they seem to respect Jasper more than I could ever imagine anyone would.

You’re a Costa.

His words play in my head on a loop. That man, Lucio Costa, is my uncle. My father is the other Costa whom I heard and read about in newspapers when I was back in Chicago. Paolo Costa. He’s the father who used to visit Mom and me when I was a young child.

I’m a mafia princess.

The reason why Mom hid me the entire time when I was a kid makes sense now. The fact I have a family member alive, my father, has been making me giddy inside no matter how much I try to fight it.

I have a dad.

And Jasper doesn’t get to keep me away from him.

I don’t believe whatever he said about Dad hurting his family. If there’s anything I learned about Jasper, it’s that he won’t stop at anything to get what he wants.

What’s more than that is that he gets out of control when things don’t go his way. He’s not only ruthless but also unapologetic.

What’s stopping him from lying about Dad and my family? He could be making all of that up to keep me glued to his side.

That won’t happen.

The whole time I’ve been locked here with only the bathroom and the balcony as a getaway, I’ve been searching my surroundings and looking for a way to unlock the door.

I’m no lock picker, but I worked as a surgery nurse, so I’m good with small sharp objects.

There’s a razor Jasper uses that I kept on the side. Near the balcony, I break the plastic end and burn it with Jasper’s lighter. It takes me a bit of burning the pad of my forefinger to turn it pointy at the tip, but I do it.

Then I go to the door, bend my weapon in front of the lock and jam it inside. It’s still too big to fit, so I burn it a bit more, praying that Salli doesn’t smell the burning odor.

Once it’s good to go, I jam it inside and it takes me a good ten minutes, but the lock finally gives way.

I release a breath and tiptoe outside. The hallway appears elegant and clean. I almost don’t recognize it from the first time Jasper brought me here. There’s new flowery wallpaper and a few landscape paintings hanging on the walls.

Since I have no shoes in this damn place, I settled on the shower flip-flops and a black dress. It’s better than nothing.

My hair is pulled into a ponytail and I’m ready to go back to Chicago, to my job, my dad, my cats, and my damn life.

I descend the stairs, astonished by more of the renovation that’s been put into place. If it were up to me, I’d bring in more furniture and —

I shake my head, killing that thought. It’s not up to me and I don’t care what Jasper does with his house. This isn’t my home.

It is not.

The sound of humming in Italian comes from the far right. I cease breathing as my back glues to the wall. If Salli finds me and tells Jasper, I’m done for.

Or I can hit her. I don’t care what she thinks because I’m getting out of here whether she and her master want me to or not.

I tiptoe around the table near the stairs, keeping my attention on where the humming is coming from, which I assume is the kitchen.

My leg hits the table and I wince, then slap a hand over my mouth to hide the sound.

Salli says something in Italian.

Damn it. Damn it.

I don’t wait for her to find me and run toward the entrance. The moment I’m about to embrace my freedom, a tall man blocks the only way out.

My feet come to a screeching halt as I stare up at him.

He’s wearing a pressed suit that stretches against his broad shoulders, making him appear like a model. His hair is styled and his cuffs are neat and elegant.

Everything about him is. Elegant, I mean.

Everything except for his eyes. They’re green, but they have some sort of anomaly with gray rings surrounding them. They don’t look like an anomaly, though.

They’re beautiful in a savage kind of way.

I caught a glimpse of him from the window before. He’s one of Jasper’s men or partners or whatever, which means he’s my enemy.

He tilts his head to the side, watching me with manic interest as if I’ve killed him in cold blood in a previous life. “Why, hello there, Costa.”

I didn’t expect the smooth English. There’s a hint of Italian there, but it’s not the heavily accented English like the one Salli speaks when I’m around.

Grabbing the burnt razor, I point it at him. I’m getting out of here and no one will stop me.

He laughs, the sound long and booming in the entrance. “Do you really think you can hurt me with that?”

“Get out of my way.” I stand my ground.

He steps closer, but I don’t step back.

“Or what, Georgina? You’ll hurt me with that?”

“Don’t think I won’t. Because I fucking will.”

He’s smiling, but he doesn’t seem amused. If anything, he appears as if he summoned his demons. “Your father used guns and it didn’t kill me, do you think that toy will?”

“You’re lying. You and Jasper are only saying that so I’ll turn against my father.” There’s no way in hell the father who doted on me as a child is the monster they’re describing him to be.

“I have no interest in you turning against your father. If anything, I want you to go back to him so Jasper finally sees that he should fucking kill you.”

He advances into me and I wiggle the razor in his face. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

“Why don’t you stop me?”

“Don’t come any closer or —”

My words are cut off when he grabs me by the arm and twists, causing the razor to fall to the ground. I cry out at his brutal clutch; he’s going to break my arm.

“Ow, let me go.” I grind out through clenched teeth.

“What have you done to him?” He stares down at me with a cold expression and it scares the shit out of me more than his hold. “Why doesn’t he kill you already?”

I contemplate kicking or biting him, but the way he’s threatening to break my arm stops me. I have no doubt that he’ll do it; that he’ll actually snap my bones.

This man is dangerous, just like Jasper. The only difference is that Jasper doesn’t intend to hurt me, at least not in this way.

This man looks like he’s about to rip my heart out and feast on it raw.

Jasper. Where are you?

“Your family killed his, do you know why?” he asks in a low tone that draws goosebumps over my skin. “Because his father killed your mother.”

My lips part. Jasper’s father killed Mom? Why would he do that?

“No,” I gulp. “You’re lying.”

“Ignore the truth all you want, it doesn’t mean it’ll go away.”

The door swings open and both our attention trails to Jasper. A long breath escapes me as my eyes meet his icy blue ones.

He’s here.

I’m not alone.

It’s almost a déjà vu from those days in the boarding school when he used to protect me from the stronger and bigger boys.

Jasper studies the scene before he strides between us with his hand curled in a fist. “What the fuck did I tell you, Enzo?”

Enzo answers in Italian and he goes back and forth with Jasper. My head spins trying to get a gist of the conversation. There are a lot of clipped words and neither of them seems amused.

“Let her go.” Jasper orders and Enzo steps away as if he wasn’t just about to break my wrist.

I massage the assaulted skin as Jasper clutches me by the arm and pulls me to his side.

“Touch her again and I will kill you,” Jasper threatens in a low tone.

“I was only stopping her from escaping,” Enzo says in a suave tone then motions at my joke of a weapon.

I swallow as Jasper’s jaw hardens, but he doesn’t look at me. Not even once.

“Get out,” he tells Enzo.

“You’re dick-whipped, my friend.” Enzo smiles a little. “One day, you’ll wake up and see her for what she truly is. A fucking Costa.”

And with that, he’s out the door.

Jasper continues glaring at him as if he’s still there. I remain silent, not wanting to trigger him in any way.

Just when I think he’s calmed down, his blue eyes focus back on me. They’re cool, but I know what he hides underneath that façade.

“You were trying to escape, is that it?”

I gulp. “I want to see my dad. My family. My home.”

“Well, that’s not going to fucking happen.” His tone turns lethal. “I’m your only family and this is your only fucking home so you better get used to it. Oh, and I’m going to punish you for your pathetic attempt at escape. I’ll spank your ass red until you beg me for an orgasm, and guess what, Pet?”

Tears barge into my eyes as I whisper, “What?”

“You won’t get it. Bad girls don’t have the privilege of an orgasm.”

“I don’t care what you do to me. I won’t stop trying to escape.”

“Be my guest. I’m arranging new guards and this place will be more secure than a military camp. You won’t be able to set a foot outside without me knowing about it. And every time you try to run, I’ll punish you.”

“I hate you.” I hit his chest, a tear streaming down my cheek. “I hate you so much.”

“Hate me all you want, but you’re not leaving.”

Salli appears from the kitchen, carrying a plate full of food. She stops at the view of the scene then smiles and speaks with her strong Italian accent. “Lunch is ready.”

“Grazie, Salli,” he says.

My next idea to escape forms loud and clear in my head.

“I’m not eating.” I stare at Jasper. “Unless you let me out of here, I won’t eat.”

5

JASPER

My little Petal hasn’t eaten for days.

The first day I left her to her fucking antics and ignored her.

By the second day, I’ve had enough of her stubbornness. I had the new housekeeper, Salli, prepare Cannelloni and then I forced Petal to eat.

At first, she threw it away, so I spanked her ass, forced her to open her mouth and then I shoved the food down her throat.

She vomited it back up.

Fuck that.

I stand at the door of the bedroom staring at her as she sits on the balcony, her gaze lost in the distance. She has a book open on her lap, but she’s not reading it.

Her shoulders and cheeks have thinned. She always had beautiful forms and curves, but now they’re starting to lose their usual liveliness.

She is starting to lose her liveliness.

If Petal continues like this, she might lose herself altogether. I can punish her, force her to eat by edging her toward orgasms, but something tells me that will only make things worse.

It might work for a while, but eventually, I’ll break her to the point of no return. She’ll become a shell of herself and I might never be able to find her once I lose her.

So I go down a route I’ve never used before.

With a deep breath, I step inside and sit on the chair across from hers. She pretends I’m not there, her cheeks hollowing and her lips thinning.

Her gaze is still lost in the distance where workers have started cultivating the land. It’s slow, and not many have shown up, but they’ve been doubling and tripling over the past few days.

While people here respect me and my last name, if they know I brought a Costa on their turf, they wouldn’t approve.

Fuck them and Enzo who already figured it out. He’s hell-bent on using her for this war, and that’ll never happen.

“Petal,” I call her name in a soft voice. “Look at me.”

She doesn’t.

“Petal,” I warn.

“Are you going to let me go?” Her usual question is neutral, dead even.

“No.”

“Then I have no reason to look at you.”

“Why do you want to leave so much?” I ask trying not to lose my cool and spank her ass. “You never actually liked your life in Chicago. It’s a place that rejected you and threw you from one foster home to another.”

“It’s still my home.” Her voice is weak but stern as her gray eyes meet mine. “My cats are there, my work, my friends. My life! Don’t sit there pretending like you didn’t kidnap me from everything that mattered to me.”

“How about me? Don’t I matter?”

“No.” She thins her lips in a line and stares in the distance again.

“Come on, Georgina.” I lean closer and take her hands in mine.

Her lips twist, but she doesn’t remove her hands from mine.

She might be on some sort of a strike, but she has missed my touch, just like I missed having her by my side. I didn’t even sleep on the same bed as her for fucking days because since she started this strike, any sudden touch triggers her damn anxiety attacks.

“Georgina…” I coax, my fingers stroking the back of her hand in small circles, making her shudder in response. “I thought we connected?”

I repeat her words from when I first brought her here. We do connect, we did since that fucking day I met her as Joseph, and it didn’t change when I saw her again as a woman in the hospital.

“I hate that,” she whispers.

“You hate what?”

“Georgina,” her voice is barely audible.

“You hate your name?”

“No,” she peeks at me through her lashes. “I hate when you call me by it.”

My lips lift in a small smile. I know that, but I’m a dick and I wanted her to say it aloud.

“I called you by many names since you were a little brat.”

“Hey,” she puckers her lips. “I wasn’t a brat. I was a good boy.”

She’s adorable as fuck when she’s pouting. She always was even when she was a “good boy”.

“Little Joe was a brat,” I insist.

“No, he wasn’t.” She glares.

“We’ll agree to disagree.” Gaining distance, I keep her hand in mine and stroke a lock of hair behind her ear, making her lips tremble. “I liked you then, though, you were soft and innocent and you didn’t let the boarding school’s atmosphere change you.”

“Is that why you protected me?” she murmurs.

“I wanted to protect your innocence, to keep you lively and not kill your light like mine was. You were the reason I remained sane.”

She leans into my touch as I cup her cheek. “Jas…”

“I need you with me, Petal. I need your liveliness and your light.”

“I have no light anymore.”

“You do. We just have to find it again and pull it out kicking and screaming.”

She chuckles, the sound music to my ears. “Is that your method with everything?”

“Probably.”

She sighs heavily. “You can’t keep me against my will, Jas.”

I grit my teeth, but I force myself to speak in a normal tone. “We’ll talk about that, but first, you need to eat.”

She remains silent.

“Georgina,” I warn.

“Fine, stop calling me that.”

I smile, caressing her cheek before calling for Salli. She has prepared her pasta — again. This time alla Norma. Salli even knows how to make couscous but that’s for another time.

The plump housekeeper wishes us a good meal and disappears, closing the door behind her. I pull my little Petal so she’s sitting on my lap and I feed her every last piece of pasta.

My little Petal stares me in the eyes as she wraps those pretty lips around the fork, slightly moaning as she chews. Her pupils are huge, seducing me into their gray depths.

“Are you being a cocktease, Pet?” I push the empty dish away and wipe her mouth with the napkin.

“Who?” Her voice lowers as she rubs her ass against my dick. “Me?”

The traitor hardens in an instant. It’s been so fucking long without her and it might have been torture.

Scratch that. It was fucking torture.

I stand up, and she gasps wrapping her arms around me as I take her into the bedroom and slowly set her on the bed.

She doesn’t even hesitate before pushing the nightgown over her head and throwing it beside her. She’s wearing nothing underneath, not even panties.

She reaches for the handcuffs, but I tsk, making her pause, brows furrowing.

There’s nothing I want more than to make her fantasies come true, and drive her delirious with pleasure, but there might be something she needs even more than this.

Kicking my pants and boxers away, I yank my shirt open then crawl on top of her.

My body molds to her tits, crushing them against my chest. My lips find hers and I kiss her with abandon.

She gasps, startled by the tenderness of my kiss, but soon enough, she’s moaning against my mouth, her hands getting lost in my hair.

She tastes of the pasta and me. I don’t know at what point she started to taste like me but I’ll do everything in my might to always have me on her.

Still kissing her, I lift her leg and then my dick finds her entrance, thrusting into her so slowly, she moans against my mouth.

“Oh, God, Jasper.”

I don’t hurry or pick up my pace. I continue kissing her as my hips slowly move, my cock unhurried inside her. I savor her and let her savor me in return.

It’s the first time I go this slow with her, the first time I’m not using her, and I can see the realization in her gray eyes as her hips jerk and tears rim her lids.

It’s the fantasy she didn’t know she needed — the one where someone worships her body, makes her feel like a fucking queen.

Because she is.

My queen.

I kiss the hollow of her jaw, her throat, her collarbone. I rotate my hips slow and without urgency.

Soon enough, she’s coming all over my dick. The orgasm goes through her for such a long time as she wraps her arms around me, using me as an anchor.

I follow her, spilling inside her with a force that startles even me.

We’re breathing heavily as we stare at each other, riding our pleasure.

She opens her mouth to say something, but I don’t want her to ruin this moment, so I capture her lips with mine and take her under all over again.

6

GEORGINA

Jasper is giving me whiplash.

Since that day he fucked me slowly and tenderly, I feel like he’s been pulling down my walls one by one.

The way he touched me, held me, kissed me? I couldn’t even conceive it in my wildest dreams. It’s like a different type of fantasy — the type I didn’t know I had.

I never actually enjoyed normal sex. That’s why I had those videos, that’s why I harbored those fantasies, but maybe I never enjoyed normal sex because it didn’t come with the intensity Jasper offered.

The level of passion he touched me with still lives under my skin. He does spank me and choke me, and I love it, but I find myself craving the other side. The side where he kisses every inch of my skin and worships me as if I’m the only one for him.

Almost as if I’m his queen.

That’s wrong, isn’t it? I’m not supposed to crave my captor, my kidnapper, my tormentor.

It was easy when he used to torture me, to have me beg for orgasms, to strap me with vibrators. At least back then, I pretended I was here against my will, I was forced into this, and he was taking my choice away.

I can handle his harshness, but what am I supposed to do with his tenderness?

Shaking my head, I come down the stairs. I’m not supposed to want to do anything about him or his change of moods, because I’m going to leave.

I don’t care how, but I’m escaping this place and going to my family. I’ll leave Jasper and his mind games and slow fucks behind. I don’t want or need that headache.

Over the past couple of days, he’s allowed me to walk around the house because apparently, he has guards now and I can’t escape even if I try.

He also caressed my cheek and told me to be a good girl. It’s my weakness when he calls me that or pet. His petal. I hate the sound of my full name on his lips. It doesn’t sound right, almost like a stranger — and a twisted part of my brain doesn’t want Jasper to be a stranger.

He never was. Not in the past and certainly not now.

I find Salli in the kitchen. She always asks me to talk slower, but she’s the only person here who speaks English, aside from Jasper.

There’s Enzo too, but I’ve been staying away from him as much as I can. He still scares the hell out of me and looks at me as if he wants to murder me.

“Buongiorno, Salli.”

“Buongiorno, signorina.”

“Georgie is fine,” I smile. She won’t stop calling me that.

Salli is older, around mid-fifties if I had to guess. She’s a plump woman with soft olive skin and hands that look as if they worked the earth.

She’s organizing fresh vegetables into the enormous refrigerator and I step in to help her.

“Wow. Are you preparing food for an army?”

“There’s an important meeting tonight,” she says, her accent less thick.

Jasper and his meetings. They’re almost never-ending. In a short span of time, he gathered so many men. Why does he keep me if he has so countless people who follow him and who’d love to stay with him?

“I’ll help,” I tell Salli.

Not only do I have nothing better to do, but I need to get close to Salli because she might as well be my only chance of escape. If I become friends with her, surely she’ll find a way to get me out of here. I know I shouldn’t bet too much on it considering she’s so loyal to Jasper, but I can at least milk her for information.

“So, how did you learn English?”

“I lived in the States when the late Mr. Vitallio was alive.” She makes a cross and murmurs words in Italian which I assume are prayers.

“Were you there when...you know…”

“No, but my husband was.” A sad gleam covers her face. “Costa men killed him and everyone else in cold blood.”

My heart aches for her loss and I caress her hand. I doubt Salli knows who I am or she wouldn’t be talking to me right now.

A small boy with dark hair trots inside, followed by a silver kitten. “Nonna!”

She crouches in front of him to clean the dirt from his clothes, telling him soft words in Italian. I smile at him and he hides behind her big skirt, peeking at me with curious, huge eyes.

“This is Francesco, my grandchild.” She tells me. “He’s just shy.”

“It’s okay.” I take a piece of ham and offer it to the kitten, my heart aching with how much I miss Mrs. Hudson and Mr. Bingley. I know Dinah and Katya won’t leave them unfed, but I’ve been away for some time. If my friends filed a missing person report and couldn’t find me, maybe they gave the cats up to a shelter.

My heart squeezes. Mr. Bingly is too picky and wouldn’t survive in a shelter.

Damn Jasper. If he kidnapped me, couldn’t he bring the cats, too?

Speak of the devil. Literally.

I lift my eyes just to meet Jasper’s blue ones. He’s wearing a suit without a tie. The rugged look with his styled hair makes me swallow.

He’s so mouthwatering, it’s unfair.

It’s all because of the weird ways he’s touching me, I swear. If he weren’t confusing me with all these feelings, I wouldn’t be looking at him like this.

I wouldn’t want to jump into his arms and kiss him or something.

He’s my captor. My tormentor. Not someone I should jump into his arms and kiss him.

And yet, as he stands there with a hand in his pants and his gaze following my every movement like a hawk, I lean more forward so he’ll get a better look at the cleavage peeking from the opening of my dress.

His eyes darken, and I pretend to only focus on petting the kitty as she nuzzles into my hand.

Salli’s grandson joins me, crouching beside me and taking turns caressing the kitten.

Jasper speaks to Salli in Italian. While I don’t fully understand what they’re talking about, it seems to be about food, so it’s probably about tonight’s dinner.

The whole time, his attention keeps filtering back to me and it’s hard to pretend he doesn’t exist when I’m doing everything I can to not clench my thighs.

Before he leaves, Jasper leans over to ruffle Francesco’s hair then he whispers to me, “Stop tempting me before I fuck you right here right now.”

“I-I wasn’t,” I murmur back, making sure Salli doesn’t hear.

“Yes, you were. You want me as much as I want you, pet, you just don’t want to admit it.” He leans over and kisses my temple with soft lips. “Be good.”

And then, he’s out, leaving me a mess on the floor.

The worst part is that another thought keeps swirling in my brain. I want to be good for him. I want him to come back tonight and hug me to sleep.

And that can’t go on.

I really need to get the fuck out of here before I stop seeing Jasper as my captor and more as someone else.

7

JASPER

The number of people who show up to the meeting is beyond anything I expected.

Men ranging from their late teens to their sixties stand in the grand dining hall that Salli has stuffed with Southern Italian dishes and a copious amount of wine from the cellar.

Enzo and I are at the head of the table, watching the people who answered his calls — or rather, mine.

Guards stand outside as additional security to the meeting.

When I was with the Costas, I avoided such meetings for a reason. They’re business and boring, and I had no interest in those. Killing made more sense than any political antics.

But now, business needs to be done.

These men look up to me — the last Vitallio around here. When Nonno and Padre were alive, they were their godfathers, the reason for their livelihood, and the Costas took that away from them.

Now, they’re searching for a leader, someone to give them hope, power, and more importantly, the life that was snatched from between their fingers.

Emilio and his sons didn’t only shoot my family, but they also hunted down every friend, loyal worker and possible force that could come around and bite them — like Enzo’s family.

Well, they left the most volatile of them all.

Me.

Despite the food, no one is sitting or eating. They’re all waiting for a sign like the one Nonno used to give.

I stand up, clutching my glass of wine. Speeches and all this shit was never my thing, but times change.

With one last look at them, I speak in Italian, my tone calm, but firm. Like Nonno, like Padre. “My name is Alessio Vitallio, and I’m the last Vitallio alive.”

Tomb silence falls on the hall.

“A long time ago, we were shot at in our house in the States and I became a contract killer for the enemy.”

A few murmurs break amongst the men, but I continue, “It’s the most disgraceful thing in my entire fucking life. Everyone present here has lost at least a family member to the unfair war the Costas have started. Loss is painful, but it doesn’t have to remain that way. Loss can be turned into hate, anger, it can become a driving force for revenge. Because that’s what I will do. I’ll avenge every last person who was ambushed, killed in his home and in front of his fucking children and wife. I’ll bring you justice, but justice doesn’t come without war.” My gaze roams over them. “I understand if you’ve lost enough already, if you want to stay in your homes and not get involved in this, but for those who want to join me, I promise you three things. One, the Costas’ graves will be a lot more than ours. Two, the Vitallios’ lands will flourish again with your help and your hard work. Three, and most importantly, I’m going to wipe the Costa name off the face of the earth.”

I pause, making as much eye contact with as many of them as possible. “Those with me, please take a seat. You’re welcome to my table any day.”

A few seconds tick by and I expect them to start leaving but one of the elderly ones smiles. “You sound just like your father. God bless his soul.”

As soon as he takes a seat, everyone else follows suit, filling the table like in Nonno’s times when I used to spy from the entrance before Nonno brought me in and sat me on his lap.

Chatter breaks amongst the men and they start telling me about the season, the grapery, the olives, and everything they take pride in.

What I take pride in, too.

The Costas will be history in no time. Enzo and I are already forming our plan, and it’ll come to fruition soon.

Georgina is a Costa, too.

I scowl at that thought. She won’t be a Costa in my head — she’s just Petal.

“That’s De Marco,” Enzo leans in to whisper, discreetly motioning at the old man who first sat down and who obviously holds some power around here. After all, he’s the one who talked the most.

“He’s one of the few powerful families that remain. He lost two sons to the Costas,” Enzo continues.

I give a slight nod, my respect growing for the man. If he lost his sons and he still wants the war, then he’s a loyal general.

“You want him as an ally.” Enzo takes a sip of his wine, appearing nonchalant with that wicked gleam deep in his eyes.

“Noted.”

“Not noted,” he mocks. “Take this a step further.”

“Take it further how?” I gather my cup and inhale the potent wine scent before taking a sip. I always preferred whiskey, but there’s something nostalgic about the taste of our wine. Familial, made with sweat and integrity.

“Ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage,” Enzo says it so simply as if it’s a given.

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because it’ll give you a root here and people will have more trust in you.” He lifts his glass in De Marco’s direction and he returns the toast. “She’s Italian beauty.”

“Then why don’t you marry her?” I ask.

“I’m not a Vitallio.”

“I’m not interested in marriage.” Never even thought about it and never will, especially not marriage in a place like Sicily — they’re too traditional and conservative here. Marriage is like this sacred shit that no one and nothing should taint.

“You’re just interested in the Costa whore, yes?” Enzo asks with malice.

It takes everything in me not to bring out my knife and carve him the fuck up. Instead, I grit from between my teeth. “Talk about her again and I’m cutting you.”

“Look, I’m not saying you can’t have her, although it would be better if you got rid of her.” I glare at him and he rolls his eyes. “BUT you can keep her as a side mistress or what-the-fuck-ever. Just marry a Sicilian and think about the grand scheme of things.”

I smile at one of the men instead of stabbing Enzo with a fork.

He’s right, if I want to keep the tradition and go back to my roots, marriage makes sense. That’s what Nonno and Padre did, traditional, with family in mind.

But the thought of another woman other than my little Petal warming my bed leaves a bitter taste in my mouth like fucking acid.

After the dinner and emptying bottles of wine, I have private words with a few of the men about the changes to the business, the land, and even the security measures.

I’m exhausted by the end of the night. After they left, Enzo kept reminding me to think about the marriage, so I kicked him out.

The main house is quiet without the usual songs my little Petal blasts around just to dance and keep moving. Salli nods in my direction, asking me if I need anything.

“No, thank you, Salli. Good night.”

She gives me a quizzical glance, and I swear she’s about to say something but she pulls back at the last second, nods and leaves.

I know what she’s thinking about, she must’ve witnessed Petal’s attempts to escape, or the extracurricular activities that come after that. While Salli is loyal to the family, she won’t stay still if she thinks Petal would hurt me.

And for that same fucking reason, the girl upstairs needs to stop trying to leave. She’s wasting her time and mine and will probably end up making more enemies than friends around here.

It doesn’t matter how much I protect her, if the locals dislike her, they’ll never take her side.

Enzo already hates her, and will keep plotting to get rid of her. Not that I’ll let him, but still.

I remove my jacket as I step into the room. It’s dark and smells of her.

Strawberry and some lilac shit.

I inhale deeply as I kick my shoes away and lie behind her. She’s on her side, fast asleep, and with the sheet to her waist, revealing her bare shoulders, the curve of her throat and the black hair that falls down her back like a camouflage.

I place a kiss on the hollow of her throat and she moans softly, pushing back against me.

“Stop fighting me, Pet.” I wrap a hand around her neck and the other around her waist as my leg cages hers. “You’re already mine.”

The sooner she realizes there’s no way out, the better.

The longer she fights, the harder I’ll break her, and deep inside me, I don’t want to break her, not in that sense anyway.

I don’t want to break her fight and spirit and even her naive fucking innocence.

I don’t want to think of her as Georgina Costa, the daughter of the man who slaughtered my family.

She’s Petal. Just my little Petal.

All I want is to hold her like this, to have her sleep in my arms and feel...peace.

8

GEORGINA

My plan to escape is moving slowly but surely.

I’ve managed to convince Jasper that I’m bored and therefore, he lets me out with Salli when she goes out to get groceries from the delivery trucks. We’re not allowed to leave the farm, and there are countless guards, but it’s still my chance to observe everyone around.

Since that meeting Jasper had a week or so ago; the house is buzzing with men and workers who Salli mentioned work at the winery or at the olive fields.

I learned that the Vitallio mansion is far away from the nearest town, so when I escape, I need to arrange for a car to get there.

Since I don’t speak the language, I’ll find a problem in communicating with the locals. Besides, even if I learn Italian, Salli says the Sicilian dialect is completely different from the other regions in Italy so I need to keep that in mind if I learn from textbooks.

Francesco, Salli’s grandson, has been teaching me small words like how to say hello and goodbye and the name of some foods and the cats. I’m starting to learn some verbs, but the gender part of the grammar throws me off which makes Francesco laugh at me.

Jasper said he can teach me if I want, but I would rather die than take his help. Besides, he said he will only teach me if I take it in the ass and stay still as he fucks my mouth. While the offer is a little tempting — okay, a lot, I don’t want him to pick up on my plan.

He’s too intuitive and I really want to have the first step in this.

I can’t win against him no matter what I try. He always comes up with something unpredictable that shuffles all my cards, but not now.

This time, I’ll be the one who wins. My captor won’t have the last word in this. He doesn’t get to steal my life, my freedom, and even stop me from seeing the only family member I have left.

I hate Jasper. That’s the only feeling I’m allowed to feel around him, not whatever chaotic emotions go through me whenever he touches me or takes me slow and unhurried as if he’s relearning my body.

Today, instead of having dinner in the dining room or in the bedroom, Salli tells me Jasper is waiting for me outside.

I pull my hair in a ponytail and wear a sweater over my dress because it gets chilly here in the evenings. Jasper got me an entire wardrobe of clothes that he can easily rip off me. He says I don’t need underwear when he’s around and he’s proven it every time he’s in my surroundings.

As much as I want to go back to Chicago, I can’t deny how clear and clean the air here is. It’s like I’ve been cleansing my lungs and detoxing since the day I arrived.

The moment I step out of the patio, I stop, my lips parting. There’s a table in the middle filled with all sorts of Italian food that’s started to grow on me. Or maybe it’s because Salli cooks the most delicious meals I’ve had in my life.

Jasper stands there, pouring wine into glasses. He’s only in his dark blue shirt with the cuffs rolled to his elbows, showing his strong, veiny forearms.

“Jas?” I walk into the patio. “What is this?”

“There you are.” He leans over and places a kiss to my temple.

I freeze, my heart skipping a beat. No. This is wrong.

He can’t keep doing this.

He can’t confuse me with gentle sex and then set up some romantic dinner as if we’re dating or something.

I push away from him, my defenses building all at once. It’s enough that I haven’t been able to properly focus on my escape plan because he keeps distracting me, I don’t need a romantic dinner and temple kisses to add to the mix.

“Why are you doing this, Jasper?”

“Doing what? Feeding you?”

“No! This, the dinner, the wine, all of it. I don’t want it.”

His jaw ticks, but he raises a brow. “You don’t want to eat?”

“I don’t want you to act as if nothing is wrong, as if you didn’t take me against my will. You’re my captor, not my damn lover.”

He’s silent for a second and if it weren’t for the slight narrowing of his eyes, I would think he didn’t hear me.

The time crawls by and I resist the urge to fidget. There’s something about the way he watches me that turns me into a self-conscious fool.

It’s like he can reach inside me and freeze me with those icy blue eyes.

He goes back to pouring wine. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Go sit on your chair, Pet.”

“I will not sit in my chair. I won’t be obedient and compliant like a lamb led to slaughter.” My temper flares and I reach for the nearest object which happens to be a knife — fitting — and point it at him.

Jasper sets the bottle of wine on the table and faces me. He doesn’t seem affected that I’m holding a knife and that if I take one step, I’ll be aiming it at his throat.

“What are you going to do about it, Pet?”

“A-about what?”

“You said you won’t be a lamb, so what will you do? Are you going to turn into a wolf and stab me with that?” He takes a step, suppressing the distance between us.

The knife is now at the hollow of his neck, but he doesn’t attempt to push away. If anything, he keeps getting closer until I have to stare up at him. My hand shakes and my eyes widen.

“Go ahead,” he taunts. “You want to stop being a lamb, no?”

The knife nearly falls from my grip due to the tremors in my hand. I’m about to drop it when Jasper clutches my wrist and twists it making the weapon fall to the ground.

He swings me around and slams me against the wall. I gasp as the shock ripples not only through my back but also between my legs.

His rough side always got me in a twist and I brought it upon myself this time.

“You think you can hurt me, Pet? Escape me?” he snarls against my face as he lifts me up. My legs wrap around him of their own volition as he opens his pants enough to get his hard cock out.

He reaches underneath my dress and groans when he finds I’m going commando. “Look at you bare and soaked for me. You want to be fucked like a dirty little whore, don’t you, my slut?”

I grab onto his shirt, my nails digging into his back as my only form of encouragement.

He thrusts balls deep inside me and spanks my ass at the same time. The stinging sensation shooting straight to my core. I shriek and bite his shoulder over his shirt to mute the sound.

“You’re mine, Pet. Fucking mine, accept it already.” He slides out almost entirely before he pounds into me again and again.

A sob tears in the air and that’s when I realize the sound is coming from me. He’s breaking my walls and reforming them.

He’s not only fucking my body, but also my soul. He’s making me his whether I like to or not.

“Come for me,” he whispers near my mouth as he tugs at my throat by the collar.

I do.

I let out a long moan mixed with a sob as I fall apart around him in all senses of the word.

And I know, I just know that if I don’t leave soon, I’ll be completely caught under his spell until there’s no way out.

A part of me, a stupid part, wants that.

Jasper powers into me harder and faster until his cum spills inside me and trickles down my thighs.

I’m too spent to think or do anything, so I let my head rest against his shoulder as I catch my breaths.

“Now,” he spanks me one last time, making me whimper with residual pleasure. “You’re going to sit your ass on that chair and eat.”

“And if I say no?” I murmur.

“I’ll fuck that attitude out of you.” He licks the shell of my ear. “And this time, I won’t stop, my pet.”

9

JASPER

All best-laid plans start with a scheme.

There’s something Nonno used to tell me about the greatest evil of all, turning brothers against each other.

Nonno was a rightful man. He worked the land and the people and protected those who needed protection. Nonno didn’t like evil, but Nonno didn’t have his entire family slaughtered in front of him.

Sorry, Nonno, I’ll pay for this if we ever meet again.

Returning to the States when Lucio has all eyes on me isn’t easy, even with Enzo’s private jet. There’s always the risk there’s some informant, a traitor who works for Enzo but backstabs him by providing information to Lucio.

Enzo says he scans all those working for him, but I don’t trust anyone. Old habits are hard to break.

For that reason, I only take Angelo with me; he’s one of those who work with me on the farm, older than me and one of De Marco’s most trusted men.

Angelo has a silver beard and hair and is one of those quiet ones. He only speaks when spoken to, and he likes to fuck widows. Hey, no judgment here. Everyone has their own kinks.

I leave him outside as camouflage as I break into Paolo Costa’s house. His security is shit compared to Lucio’s, but it still isn’t easy.

I knock down two guards on my way to his study and lose precious time to drag their limp bodies into closets out of the staff’s way.

Paolo’s house is big but impersonal as if he didn’t take the time to add life into it. From the time I was on Lucio’s side, I know Paolo either spends his time in his study or in the garden. And yes, Lucio was that specific about spying on his brother’s movements.

I head to his office first and open the huge wooden door.

“No more coffee. Grazie, Marta.”

“No coffee for you, Paolo.” The door clicks as I lean back against it and point my gun in his direction.

Paolo stands by his window, staring outside. At my words, he slowly turns around to face me.

Paolo Costa is older than Lucio, and it shows. His face is frail and so is his body. Unlike his brother, he doesn’t hide the white strands in his black hair, something he passed down to his daughter.

If I expected surprise or a fight, he gives none. Instead, he watches me with his dark eyes as if having someone barge into his office and hold a weapon at him is an everyday occurrence.

“I heard Lucio is no longer using you, so I gather you figured it all out, yes?” he asks with boredom.

Of course, he knew all that. It takes everything not to shoot him in the forehead. But I don’t do that, because that’s against what I planned.

“Do you also know that Lucio is after your heir?” I ask.

He gives a curt nod, fully facing me now.

“How about the fact that he killed your heir’s mother?”

Paolo seems to have stopped breathing for a second. “Your proof?”

“Do I need any? This is Lucio we’re talking about. He’s been eyeing the throne since Emilio was alive, and if you think he didn’t plan this for years, you don’t know your brother.”

Paolo watches me intently, his finger tapping his thigh. “I’m afraid I can’t trust your words either. You’re a Vitallio after all.”

“Suit yourself.” I keep my tone nonchalant. “This is the only warning you’ll get from me, old man.”

That should be enough to form a bigger dent between him and Lucio. While they’re busy murdering each other, I’ll sneak back and take payment for what they did twenty-five years ago.

I open the door without turning. If I give him my back, he won’t hesitate to shoot me like they did to my mother.

“How about my daughter?” His frail voice causes me to stop.

“Your daughter?” I pretend to be ignorant.

“Stop playing with me. You took my daughter somewhere, where is Georgina?”

He knows.

Well, of course, he knows. After all, he was the reason her mom disguised her as a boy. If my calculations are correct, then he must’ve found her exact location around the time I took her to Sicily.

“I thought you have a son?” I feign surprise.

“I’ll find her and she’ll choose me. You know why, Alessio?” He emphasizes my given name. “For the same reason, you’re doing all this. Family. I’m her only remaining member. Blood runs thicker than water, remember that.”

Fuck him.

He won’t find her so he won’t be able to take her away, and if he somehow ends up in Sicily, his men will be murdered before they can arrive at the Vitallios’ lands. There’s a reason why no Costas come over.

“Keep an eye on Lucio,” I tell him before I leave his mansion as quietly as I got in.

I find Angelo waiting in the car by the back entrance. Now that I started the dent between Paolo and his fucker of a brother, my first mission is done. I should head back to the airport and leave before I catch Lucio’s attention.

But instead of heading to the airport, I ask Angelo to stop in the shitty neighborhood I never wanted to return to again.

And yet here I am.

Angelo waits for me in the car as I take two steps at the time to my little Petal’s old fucking apartment.

Soon enough, the tenant will empty it and put her things up for sale. Not that she has anything to root her to this place. Her new home is Sicily whether she likes it or not.

I use the spare key under the fire escape and open her apartment. Pads of feet run in my direction before the two cats surround me, mewling like fucking crazy.

“Mr. Bingly, Mrs. Hudson,” I greet. “Get your shit, we’re going somewhere.”

They follow me all the way as I grab their things and her laptop and some of her clothes. I was in a hurry the first time so I only brought her mug and a few clothes.

The cats caress my legs, looking up at me with big fucking eyes. Judging from their half-full cans, Dinah and that Russian nurse have fed them, but they must miss my little Petal as much as she misses them.

I caught her playing with Salli’s grandkid’s cat the other day and telling him how much she misses her own cats.

“You owe me,” I tell them as I usher them into their cages. They don’t protest as they go in there.

I throw one last look over at the apartment as I balance a bag on my shoulder and the cages on either of my hands.

This is where my obsession with my little Petal started, where I first watched her, fucked her, tied her up, and made her fantasies — and mine — come true.

Or rather, no, maybe my obsession with her started since she was little Joe, as fucked up as that sounds.

Angelo raises an eyebrow but says nothing as I place the cats and the bag in the back seat.

“Gifts for the woman.”

He merely nods as if saying, Really? This is what we took a detour for?

I close the back door and I’m about to settle beside Angelo when I notice a movement to my right.

A black car passes by and its window rolls down before gunshots shower the street.

I jump inside, firing one of my own and shout at Angelo, “Go! Go!”

Our car revs in the streets as the gunshots echo behind us. I roll my window down and fire at one of its tires, making it swerve to the right.

Fucking Lucio. I knew he’d find me one way or another.

As the car loses our trail, I stare back at the cats. One of them is staring with wide eyes, but the other is sleeping.

Fuck. I can’t believe I’m worried about the cats’ well-being.

“Boss…” Angelo’s frantic eyes study me.

It’s then I see it, the red covering the fucking seats. I follow the trail to find my jacket soaked at the shoulder level and a hole punctures the skin.

Fuck.

At first, I don’t feel it, but then the burn grips me like a son of a bitch. The pain explodes all over my skin and more blood leaves me.

I attempt to squeeze the wound, but that doesn’t stop the bleeding. My vision starts doubling and I breathe through my nose. This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot, but it’s the first time I’ve lost so much blood this quickly.

Fuck, again.

At this rate, I’m going to faint and that’s never good.

“I’ll take you to the hospital,” he says.

“No.” I shake my head once. Lucio will find me in no time and kill me. “Take me home.”

“But boss…”

“Home. Sicily.” I croak.

Home. Petal.

10

GEORGINA

I tell myself I’m only upset because I can’t escape.

Because even though Jasper left, Enzo is here and he’s watching me like a hawk.

Jasper went out early this morning with Angelo, and while he always goes out to work, this time was different. One, they seemed tense. Two, he usually returns to have lunch with me.

Not today.

It’s already night time and there’s no trace of him.

Everyone refuses to tell me where Jasper went as if this is some sort of a secret I can’t be privy to. Even Salli says she doesn’t know and that these things are none of her business.

I thought Jasper’s absence would give me more incentive to escape, but I find myself by the window watching for a car to arrive or something.

It’s getting late and yet I can’t sleep. I feel like something is missing.

Or wrong.

I did lay in bed but without his warmth in it, it felt empty, almost too empty.

What is wrong with you, Georgina?

I force myself to go to bed and lie on top; my hands are crossed over my stomach and I keep staring at the ceiling. Images of when Jasper spanked me then fucked me raw on this same bed trickle back to memory.

Letting my hand trail to my neck, I touch the collar and sigh. It’s like I always have a part of him with me in the form of this collar.

I immediately drop my hand.

Happy thoughts. I need happy thoughts.

Today, I managed to spy a back way through the fields. It’s where the trucks load the supplies and leave. They’re not farm people so they don’t work for Jasper and his family — whom I discovered is super big around here.

According to Salli, people consider the Vitallios their benefactors, and that’s why they respect Jasper to the point of reverence.

Or rather Alessio.

No one calls him Jasper here. It’s either Senior Vitallio or Alessio. I like his other name.

“Alessio…” I murmur as if I want to get a feel of it on my tongue.

I still like the fact I’m the only one who gets to call him Jasper, though. Just like he’s the only one who calls me Petal.

Closing my eyes, I decide that I’m going to forget about Jasper as soon as I’m out of here. I’m going to forget about his firm hand and consuming kisses and the way he brought each of my fantasies to reality.

I’m going to forget about his wicked tongue and the gleam in his icy blue eyes or how his thick hair feels beneath my fingers.

As soon as I’m out of here...

I doze off or I think I do.

Instead of dreaming about an escape, I dream about Jasper lying beside me, slowly waking me up so he’d thrust inside me and make love to me.

Wait. Make love?

“Miss!”

I jolt awake at the harsh accented voice. I’m disoriented from sleep, I don’t focus for a bit, and when I do, I wish I didn’t.

Angelo is wrapping his arm around an unconscious Jasper’s shoulder. Blood drips down his white shirt soaking it in red.

His head lolls to the side and his eyes move beneath his lids.

My heart nearly stops beating and it takes everything in me to form a voice. “W-what happened?”

“He was shot. Can you help him?”

I tuck away all the emotional reactions swirling in the front of my head and I jump to my feet. He’s a patient. A patient.

“Let’s take him to the hospital.”

“Negative,” Angelo says. “No hospitals.”

I know I can argue from here to tomorrow, but Jasper’s men are just like him; if they don’t want to do something, they won’t do it.

Besides, this must be because of criminal activities.

“Put him here.” I motion to the bed.

I try not to focus on how much blood he lost and fail. That’s a lot of blood soaking his shirt. Shit.

“Is there a medical kit here?” I ask Angelo as I rip the buttons off Jasper’s shirt.

“I can check with Salli.”

“Do it, now! And get hot water.”

I take my first look at the wound. It’s a graze, there’s no bullet, but it’s a deep graze that hit vessels and it’s why he lost a lot of blood. It’s been oozing out of him for a long time, hours I assume.

“Jasper!” I hit his cheek. “Jas, come on, open your eyes.”

They move behind his lids but he doesn’t open them. I need to stop the bleeding and stitch him up fast.

“What have you gotten yourself into this time, you idiot?” I try to use my stern nurse voice but it comes out as something close to a sob.

His pulse is steady so that’s a good sign. On the other hand, his breathing is slightly choppy.

“You asshole.” I press on his wound and he groans. “What did you do to get yourself shot, huh?”

His lids move again and his lips part but he says nothing. A drop falls on his cheek and I realize it’s coming from me. I’m crying. I’m not supposed to cry when I take care of a patient.

This isn’t a patient, though. It’s Jasper.

“Here.” Angelo barges inside carrying a box that has the red cross logo on it. “Salli is bringing the hot water.”

I wipe my eyes and get to work.

Surprisingly, the box has most of what I need. I get the tweezers, soak them with isopropyl alcohol and remove the pieces of tissue stuck inside and then I clean the wound.

Salli, Angelo and even Enzo join me. Salli helps me as if she’s the nurse and I’m the doctor. She doesn’t even look away when I stitch the wound. Most people don’t like seeing flesh being sewn together, but Salli and everyone here aren’t normal people.

They all come from a brutal world where gunshots are normal.

In my world, gunshots only belong in the ER, and while I worked there, I never got used to them.

And now that Jasper is the victim of one of them, I’m on the verge of a breakdown. I keep thinking of all the scenarios this could go into. My hand shakes and I take deep breaths to regulate it before I continue.

After I inject him with antibiotics, I hand Salli a list of what I’ll need. She leaves saying she’ll have her son get them.

“What happened?” I ask Angelo, my voice low and thick with emotion.

“He was shot by Lucio’s men when we were leaving.” Angelo talks while still standing at the entrance.

Enzo has made himself at home and is sitting on the chair by the bed.

“Lucio’s men came here?” I ask, closing the lid of the box.

Angelo stares at Enzo as if asking permission from him to talk.

“They were in the States,” Enzo says in a monotone voice. “Your family is finishing what they started decades ago.”

“You were in the States?” I stare at Angelo, unbelieving. “Why didn’t you get his wound treated there? It might get infected.”

Angelo keeps his rigid posture. “He didn’t want to.”

“If he stayed there, Lucio would’ve killed him for sure.” Enzo pauses. “Or is that what you want, Costa?”

“I don’t know what your problem is with me, but you need to stop.” I jut my chin. “If I wanted him dead, I would’ve done it just now.”

Enzo continues staring at me with his unmatched eyes but doesn’t say anything.

Angelo disappears outside, leaving me in my silent war with Enzo. I ignore him and focus back on Jasper, checking his temperature.

It’s climbing. Damn it. He has an infection. But then again, with the time he spent bleeding, it would’ve been a surprise if he didn’t.

The sound of mewing gets me out of my thoughts. Angelo appears in the entrance carrying two cat cages with Mr. Bingly and Mrs. Hudson inside.

“He made a stop to get them,” Angelo says. “That’s how he got shot.”

All my attempts to fight the need to cry fail. I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.

He went back to get my cats. He did this for me.

Damn him.

Damn him to the darkest pits of hell.

I wrap my hand around his neck and brush my lips against his as I let the tears loose.

“Don’t you dare leave me, Jas. Don’t you fucking dare.”

11

JASPER

A few weeks have passed and my injury still hurts like a fucking bitch.

You know those times when your skin hates you and kind of starts attacking you? Yeah, me neither.

It’s called infection and my little Petal has been doing her best to get rid of it, or rather to stop me from spiraling down that path. She cursed me, too, in the meantime, always reminding me of how stupid I was when I came all the way back here when I could’ve gotten treated back in the States.

She’s so fucking adorable when worried and acting like a stern nurse. And yes, it’s like porn, and yes, she fucked and sucked me like in those nurse fetish movies.

I can’t get over how our kinks keep expanding over time.

Now, however, she’s making me take a walk because I need fresh air and Vitamin D from the sun or what-the-fuck-ever. The only reason I’m going along with this is because I get to wrap my arm around her waist, tuck her to my side, and show her to the entire fucking world.

The workers at the grapery nod in respect whenever we pass by. My little Petal has learned enough Italian to greet them back and even accept the grapes some of the workers wash for her.

I glare at a boy who watches her with admiration in his light blue eyes. He can’t be older than seventeen, but I still want to poke his fucking eyes out for staring at her. Who does he think he is to show me this type of disrespect? To look at what’s mine as if he has every right to?

His father seems to understand my sign and scolds him in low murmured Italian words.

“Why is he yelling at him?” my little Petal asks me as she sucks on a grape.

For a second, I’m lost in the way her lips wrap around the fruit before it disappears inside her mouth. Fuck me. She’s like an erotic dream come true.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” I answer her question.

She narrows her eyes. “Why do I not believe that?”

I lift my good shoulder as I whisk her away from the workers’ field of vision. It’s not the season of olives, so fewer are on this side.

Even though Petal’s dressed in a simple floral dress that matches the spring sky, I don’t like that anyone can look at the hints of skin showing through the cloth.

She’s mine and I want it to remain that way. Just mine. I don’t even like it that she learned — or remembered — enough Italian to strike up simple conversations.

Possessiveness. Fucking Google it.

My little Petal leans her head against my good shoulder, her small fingers wrapping around my bicep as we walk in silence.

We have done this a lot since I was shot. Walking, going into the forest and breathing the earth’s scent.

Usually, we spend more time with the workers and my little Petal would leave me stranded under a tree — with her fucking cats — and go help. They try to refuse, but she doesn’t take no for an answer and puts everything into it as she works with them.

Today the cats are with Salli and I’m not allowing her to leave me. I need my dose of her, too.

“I love it here,” she says with a sigh.

“Pretty sure it’s because I’m here that you love it.”

“Stop being an arrogant jerk.” She glares up at me. “Besides, you tried to ruin it for me.”

I raise an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Um...excuse me? You don’t remember making me run in this forest naked and barefoot while you kept shocking the fuck out of me?”

“Admit it, you loved it.”

She huffs. “Whatever.”

“You did love it. Besides…” I run my fingers over her collar and a slight shiver takes hold of her. “You love your collar.”

“I do not.”

“You mean you don’t like how I hold you by it while I fuck you raw?”

She keeps her glare, pretending to sulk, but soon enough, she returns to admiring our surroundings.

It’s genuine, the fact that she likes this place, I mean. She wakes up with a smile on her face and she speaks to her cats in that soft, happy tone telling them about all the fun they will have today.

However, even I know that if she gets a chance, she’ll run and never look back.

It’s not about her job, her friends, or the life she left behind in Chicago; it’s about her father. She’s yearning to meet Paolo and the more I keep her away from him, the more she wants to run to him — and leave me.

The fucker was right. Blood does run thicker than water.

But once again, I’ll be a motherfucking selfish bastard and keep her. Truth is, I can’t begin to remember my life before I saw her at the hospital.

It was a dull, black hole. It was fucking emptiness. And while I enjoyed tracking and carving up fuckers’ faces, it never had a purpose.

My little Petal and I might have formed a connection through the depraved kinks and fantasies, but over time, it’s become more.

It’s become something even I can’t begin to describe.

Don’t get me wrong, the fucked up sex is us. I love owning her body and making her my own tailored slut, but there’s more.

So much fucking more to my little Petal.

“You must’ve had an amazing childhood in this place.” She smiles then winces when she realizes what she said. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring back bad memories.”

“Don’t be. This place isn’t tainted. I still have the best of memories in it.”

“Such as?” Her pupils dilate with excitement.

My curious little Petal.

“Such as Nonno and Nonna. They loved me so much, I was their favorite.”

“Always arrogant even as a child.”

I chuckle. “I mean it. Nonna told me stories and Nonno took me with him on walks like these. He taught me the southern Italian ways, to respect elders and to protect the weak.”

“He must’ve been an amazing person.”

“He was.” And he would’ve loved the fuck out of my little Petal. Everyone in my family would’ve. She’s down to earth and kind and tries to make people feel at ease even if her own life has always been ten degrees of fucked up.

She said she became a nurse because she couldn’t afford to become a doctor, but deep down, she always opted for a profession that helps others.

My little Petal is soft where I’m hard. She’s kind where I’m a no-bullshit type of person.

She chuckles, the sound echoing around us like a piano symphony. The type my mother used to play for us.

“What are you laughing at?” I ask.

“I’m just remembering how you were a brute at Vita’s boarding school.”

I narrow my eyes. “A brute, huh?”

“I mean, you used to hit kids if they as much as looked at you.”

“Or you.” I squeeze her. “You would’ve been dead meat if I didn’t stand up for you, you little brat.”

“I wish…” She trails off, cheeks flushing.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

We stop beside an olive tree and I hold her chin, forcing those gray clouds to focus on me. She can run away from the world, but never from me. “If you start something, finish it.”

“I just…” She blushes furiously again. “I wish you stayed by my side.”

“You do?”

“It’s stupid, okay? Forget it.” She tries to wiggle free, but I pin her in place.

“It’s not stupid,” I whisper. “I wish I could’ve stayed by your side too.”

For some reason, those twenty years feel like lost time with her. Maybe that’s why I refuse to let her the fuck go.

Her eyes rim with tears and her lips tremble. “Stop saying things like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you care.”

“I do care, Petal. Have I not proved it already?”

She nibbles on the inside of her cheek then swiftly gets out of my hold and focuses on some plant.

I let her because I might not be prepared for her answer either.

But as I watch her bent over, staring at some squirrel, I allow myself a different type of fantasy.

It’s nothing kinky or depraved and it doesn’t have to do with how fuckable her ass looks in that bent position.

It’s as simple as having these walks with her until we’re both old and gray. Like Nonno and Nonna.

Go back to the sexual fantasies, fucker.

12

GEORGINA

“Faster.”

“Oh, Jas.” I moan as I ride him, my hands on his chest.

“I said, faster, Pet.” He grabs me by a handful of my waist. “It doesn’t look like you’re doing what you’re told.”

“Oh...I’m close.” I pick up my pace, but it’s not enough. Frustration bubbles inside me as he watches me with a gleam in his eyes. He likes playing this game with me and making me unravel all around him.

“You want me to make you orgasm?”

“Yes, yes, yes…” I chant. I know I’m the one who suggested to loosen him up and make him feel better, but now I need that orgasm as much as I need air.

“Ask like a good girl, my pet.”

“Please, Jas, please let me come, let me shatter all around you.”

“Again.”

“Please, please…”

“Are you my slut?”

“Only yours.”

“My pet?”

“Yes, Jas, I’m your everything.”

“My everything, huh?” He thrusts into me from the bottom and my breathing hitches as he pinches a nipple between his fingers. “Repeat that.”

“My everything...My…Oh…” I come hard around his cock and topple over from the force of it.

I’m breathing heavily when Jasper thrusts slowly inside me again. I moan, my voice hoarse.

“You feel good, Pet?”

I whimper my approval, nodding against his chest.

“I thought you were supposed to make me feel good?” he teases.

Biting my lip, I push off him so his hard cock leaves me. I briefly close my eyes at the loss but what I’ll do is worth it. I settle between his legs and take him into my mouth.

“Mmmm,” he groans, his fingers getting lost in my hair. “Do you like tasting your juices on me?”

My thighs clench and I answer by taking him so deep in my throat, I nearly gag.

“That’s it,” his raspy voice is like an aphrodisiac. I suck him harder, my fingers playing with his balls until his groans mix with the sound of my sucking.

“Fuck,” he grunts as he comes down my throat.

I release him, licking the last drops off my lips.

“You like my taste that much, Pet?” he teases and I just nod as I snuggle to his good side.

It’s not only about his taste or the pleasure he brings me, it’s about the fact he’s alive. He didn’t leave me.

The pain I felt when I saw him all bloodied still lives inside me. I had nightmares about it a few times and every time I woke up and found him beside me, I nearly cried. Then I made him hug me back to sleep.

Now that I feel him, that I have him beside me, I don’t want to waste another moment. I’ve seen gunshot wound patients leave the earth without saying goodbye. I’ve seen their wives and their girlfriends cry in the hallway without the ability to do anything about it.

I don’t want that.

I don’t want to lose Jasper.

Maybe that’s why I’ve been spending every waking moment with him for the past few weeks.

The time I have with him has become more important than anything else, even more than my escape, even more than my own life.

I knew he’d consume me if I spent more time with him and that’s exactly what he’s done. Before I knew it, my life now centers around him, with him, and anywhere where he exists.

He’s still my captor, my tormentor, but that dims in comparison to the pain I felt when he was shot.

“Let’s go outside,” I say.

His fingers trace over my arm. “I don’t like sharing you.”

I smile. “You’re not sharing me.”

“They get to look at you. That’s sharing in my book.”

“There’s really no cure for your possessiveness, is there?”

“Not that I know of.” He kisses my temple. “Actually, there’s one.”

“What is it?”

“You being mine until the day I die.”

My chest tightens. “Don’t say that word again.”

He grins. “What? Die?”

“That’s not something to joke about, Jas. Do you know how worried I was when you got shot?”

“You were worried about me?” he asks with such awe that it breaks my heart.

It’s like he never had anyone worry about him before. Considering the way his family died, it makes sense. He must’ve felt that he’s not worthy for anyone to worry about him after the hell that he went through in his childhood.

“Of course I worried about you.” My voice softens as I kiss his chest then pull away, not wanting him to catch the tears in the corner of my eyes. “Come on, stop being so lazy.”

“Me, lazy?” He stands behind me until his warmth envelops mine. He pulls my hair aside and places a kiss at my shoulder. Goosebumps erupt on my skin and I walk to the closet before I turn around and tell him something stupid like all the feelings that are swirling inside me.

AFTER WE CHANGE, me into a summer yellow dress and Jasper into a shirt and pants, we go to the olive fields. He prefers them because there aren’t workers here at this time of the year.

He really meant it when he said he doesn’t like to share.

I greet everyone who greets us. I’ve become good enough in Italian to strike up an easy conversation about the food, the weather, and the festival-like parties everyone loves.

Jasper doesn’t seem amused, but anyway, he doesn’t count.

I really like the people here. They’re kind and have the most beautiful language. Let’s not talk about the food because I’m pretty sure I’ve gained a few pounds since the time I arrived.

The general atmosphere itself is peaceful. There isn’t that stressful or gloomy feeling in the air. There are only hardworking people with a lot of love for Jasper’s last name and therefore Jasper — and me, because I’m always with him.

He told me not to mention my last name because it isn’t liked here. According to Jasper, my grandpa, dad, and uncle killed countless family members of these people.

But Jasper could be lying. I wouldn’t know until I get together with Dad, and I will in some way.

Jasper can’t lock me up here forever.

And yet, when I look up at him as his arm surrounds my waist, I feel so utterly safe. Like there isn’t anything in the world that can hurt me as long as I’m with him.

I was always a lonely soul since I was a kid. It’s like I couldn’t ever fit in no matter how hard I tried.

I couldn’t belong.

When I’m with Jasper, it feels like I do. Like maybe we’re two pieces of a puzzle and I can’t help wondering about that forever.

What if it is true? What if there’s something similar to forever with Jasper?

I internally shake my head, kicking that idea out as fast as it appeared.

“Look.” The smirk in Jasper’s voice wrenches me out of my thoughts.

“What?”

He motions ahead. “Your beloved daisies.”

Something flutters in my chest as I untangle myself from him and pick one. It’s like I’m back to being Joseph in the boarding school.

I start plucking the petals. “He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me.” My voice drops as I pluck the last one. “He loves me not.”

Ugh. Why does that keep happening?

Then I realize I’m being childish. I’m not Joseph hoping the older boy with beautiful blue eyes loved me.

Another daisy appears in front of me. My gaze slides up to meet Jasper’s softening one.

“I told you, I’ll keep plucking daisies for you until you get the answer you need, Pet.”

I wrap my hand around his neck and seal my lips to his. I kiss him so hard, he loses balance and smiles against my mouth.

Maybe, just maybe, Jasper is the only belonging I needed in my life. I just didn’t know it back then.

13

JASPER

I open my eyes to find my little Petal hovering over me like an angel.

Ah, fuck that.

What’s with this sappiness lately?

I’m being mellowed down because I haven’t killed for so long. But then again, I keep my usual asshole personality with Enzo, Angelo and the others. Petal is the only one who brings out this side of me — a softness I didn’t know I had.

“Teach me how to shoot.”

There goes the angel image.

I pull myself up on my elbows and stare at her. She’s standing beside the bed, already wearing jeans and a tank top, her expression full of determination.

“What for?” I rub my eyes to get a better view of her ass in those jeans.

“To defend myself.”

“From who?”

“Anyone.”

“I’ll do the defending, Pet.” I reach out for her. “I have a better idea for our morning.”

She squeals when I grip her by the hip, but quickly wiggles free, pushing my hand away.

“No, Jas. Come on; I want to do something.”

“Fine. You can ride me today.” I smirk and her cheeks turn red. My little Petal loves it when I give her the reins sometimes.

It’s a false sense of control and she always ends up beneath me anyway, but there’s nothing wrong in having her believe she can have her way. If it makes her more aroused and compliant, I’m all for it.

“Shooting.” She grips her hip.

I raise a menacing eyebrow. “Are you ordering me around, Pet?”

She quickly backpedals, dropping her hand from her hip. Good girl.

“Don’t you want to make sure I’m safe whenever you’re not here?” She softens her tone.

Smart little Petal. She’s using the way I treat her to get what she wants.

“I’ll make sure you’re always protected.”

“Just in case…” her voice lowers. “Please.”

Ah, fuck. I can’t resist it when she pleads with me that way. Enzo is right after all. I am dick-whipped.

Besides, she’s right. We never know what will happen from now on. As long as Lucio roams the earth, neither of us are safe, and until I take care of him, she’s still in danger.

“Fine.”

“Yes!” She does a slight jump then kisses me quickly on the cheek before heading out. “I’ll be waiting outside, hurry.”

I keep staring behind her even after she disappears. I’m so fucking whipped for that girl.

Fifteen minutes later, we’re at the back of the house. I point at the cans I lined on target trees. “You have to keep your hand steady, tremble and it’s over.”

“Okay, steady, I can do that. I participated in surgeries, you know.” She purses her lips, trying to keep her arm taut.

I smile under my breath at her over the top concentrated expression. “Pretty sure this doesn’t go with the medical code.”

Her face falls for a while and I curse the direction I went with that. She’s a nurse after all, and those in her field save lives — they don’t finish them.

For a few minutes, I hold up her hand and train her to target well. She’s right; her arm is steady, it’s her aim that needs more work.

“Why do you really want to learn to shoot?” I ask after a while.

“I told you, to protect myself.”

I’m standing behind her and I slowly grip her bending elbow the slightest bit. She bites her lower lip as I say, “You know many nurses who like to take up shooting as a hobby?”

“Nope, but other nurses aren’t kidnapped to another country and forced to quit their jobs.” There’s no usual venom in her voice, but her displeasure reaches me loud and clear.

She doesn’t like this arrangement, and while she might lose herself in the fucking, in the late-night dinners and the walks, she’ll always — fucking always — think like she’s a captive.

Well, she is, but she shouldn’t be thinking about it as such now.

“Maybe you should protect yourself from me, too,” I speak in a neutral voice, but my blood is boiling.

“Maybe I should.” She lifts her chin, her eyes sparkling in a sadistic gleam. “What if I shoot you right now and run?”

The question is like a fucking stab. It’s like someone twisting a knife into a fresh wound.

No, not someone. Her. Fucking Georgina.

I grab her arm with the gun and she gasps when I point it at my chest.

“J-Jas...what are you doing?” Her voice is haunted. Her eyes are as wide as saucers as she stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind.

“You said you’d shoot me.” My tone is neutral, calm, hiding all the fucking chaos I want to wreak. “Do it.”

“W-what?”

“Shoot me, Pet.”

“Jas…”

I push the gun into my chest and her hand trembles as she tries to release the trigger, but I keep her hand in place.

“It’s the only way you’ll ever get rid of me, so do it, Petal.”

“Jasper, stop.”

“Do it. Fucking shoot me.”

A sob tears from her throat. “N-no…”

“Do it.”

“NO!” She screeches, hitting my chest and throwing the gun away. “Let me go, you fucking psycho. How can you ask me to do that? How can you put it on my conscience?”

“Is that all you care about?” I laugh, the sound humorless. “Your conscience?”

“I won’t become a killer because of you.”

“Well, congrats, Georgina. You just lost your only chance to get rid of me.”

She stares up at me with hard features, folding her arms over her chest. “Why are you calling me by my full name?”

I wrap my hand around her hair in a fist and pull her into me until she cries out in pain. “Because you fucked up.”

“W-what?” Her eyes widen with fear.

“You’re going to pay for that question, Pet. I’m going to spank it out of your ass until it’s purple, then I’m going to fuck you in that ass and mark you the fuck up until you beg me to stop. Here’s the plot twist, I won’t stop.”

Her breathing hitches, and it’s both fear and excitement.

She should see the anger in my eyes. The fucking disappointment.

Over the past few weeks, I had a fantasy about her with me. I had a fucking inkling, a damn thought that maybe one day, she’ll wake up and not think about leaving.

That day isn’t today — or ever for that fact.

She’ll always think about running, about leaving.

I’ll fuck it out of her; I’ll punish her for the way she’s punishing me.

Maybe then I’ll get rid of the fucking fantasy I have about her belonging to me.

14

GEORGINA

Something is wrong.

I know when something is wrong.

The men come in and out more often. Jasper doesn’t show up for lunch and Enzo doesn’t leave his side.

It’s always bad when that jerk is around; it’s like he’s the bearer of bad news. From the gossip I managed to extract from Salli, Enzo is a Morelli and while I have no damn clue what that means, apparently it’s something important like the Vitallio name here.

Besides, Enzo is a businessman in the States. True, he doesn’t give off the killer vibe like Jasper, but he does seem like his own brand of danger. Also, I have no doubt he’d kill me if he finds the chance to.

Salli said his family was murdered by the Costa men, like Jasper’s. Although the way they lost their family hurts my heart, I can’t believe my father was behind that.

He was a caring man.

Lucio would, though. I have no doubt that man is the devil incarnate.

Back to the present. Ever since Jasper recovered, he’s been having meetings upon meetings. While the cats, Francesco and Salli keep me company, I feel the weight of his loss every time I fall asleep waiting for him.

I don’t like it.

The bed is empty and wrong when he’s not here. For someone who spent their entire life sleeping alone, it’s weird that I can’t stand Jasper’s absence anymore.

Usually, I’d toss and turn until his warmth envelops me from behind and he brushes his lips against my shoulder or the hollow of my neck.

Today, I decided not to sleep altogether. I’ve been reading through Francesco’s textbooks. Apparently, I’m primary school level in Italian according to the little guy.

He keeps telling his grandma that I speak funny. He’s the worst teacher, either laughing or grumbling when I don’t get things right.

When I was with Mom, I don’t recall her speaking Italian with me since she was American. Dad did, though. I remember him trying to teach me words and saying things like I should be proud of my origins.

A pang of sadness hits my chest at the memory. Dad was so affectionate toward Mom and me, how come he left me in that school? How come he’s letting Lucio hunt me down?

The door opens and I startle, realizing I haven’t been focusing on the book.

Jasper comes inside quietly and stops when he sees me. He’s in his usual pants and shirt, but it’s like he gets more attractive by the day.

Seeing him lead all those men and bringing these families together gives him a different type of aura than the heartless, lonely killer he was in Chicago.

Not that he’s not heartless anymore, because as much as the men respect him, some of them fear him and his background. But now, he has priorities and he’s using his skills to teach the younger teens how to defend themselves and their families.

Before, he was cold without an aim, but now he’s a leader and it’s hot to see him belong somewhere after decades of being a lone wolf.

“You’re still awake?” he asks in a tone that implies he didn’t want me to be.

I knew something was wrong.

“Why?” I pretend to focus on the book. “Are you avoiding me or something?”

“That will only happen in your dreams, Pet. You’re the one who likes the avoiding game.” His voice is husky, tired, and there’s this urge that beats inside me to stand up, run my fingers over his stubble and kiss him.

“Well, I’m not the one who disappears early in the morning and returns late at night.” I clamp my lips, hating how hurt I sound.

Jasper crouches in front of my chair, so I’m staring down at him, a gleam shines in the depth of his eyes. “Did you miss me, Pet?”

“I did not.” I stare away.

He grabs me by the collar and forces me to focus back on him. “Are you having withdrawals because I haven’t owned you like my little slut in a few days?”

My thighs clench, but I refuse to answer.

“Are you having withdrawals, Pet?”

I am. But not because of the sex. It’s because he’s not paying attention to me anymore. I’ve always been the center of his life in Chicago. He stalked me, murdered for me, inserted himself into my life until he became an indispensable part of my existence. But lately, his men and his work have become his sole priority.

“What is it?” he asks when I remain quiet.

“Nothing.” I let my hand roam over his face. I feel like I need to get my fill of it.

He leans into my touch, brushing his lips into the palm of my hand, and making me sigh in contentment. I never thought these moments would be possible with someone like Jasper. The quiet, the tenderness, and even safety.

God. I’m getting too engrossed in this man.

“Be a good girl for me when I leave, okay?” he murmurs, still kissing my hand.

My movements freeze. “Y-you’re leaving? Where? When? For how long?”

“You don’t need to know where I’m going. I’ll leave in half an hour and I might stay for a few days.”

“You’re going back to the States, aren’t you?” I release him and stand up, letting Francesco’s book to fall on the ground.

“If you must know, yes.”

“Why?” My voice sounds spooked to my own ears. The thought that he’s going back to hurt my dad keeps playing on a distorted loop in my head.

He rises to his feet. “I need to take care of Lucio once and for all.”

“But he got you shot the last time.”

“Which means he won’t this time. Don’t worry; we have a solid plan.”

I shake my head frantically. The images of him bloody and unconscious barge into my head like a long flashback and I feel like I’m going to throw up. “Don’t go.”

“I have to, Petal. If I don’t, Lucio will come to Sicily and I can’t put you or the people here in danger. I’ve been around Lucio my entire life, and I know he doesn’t stop. He wants us both dead and he will do everything in his power to accomplish that.”

“Then take me with you.” I clutch his hand. “I want to talk to Dad. He’ll help.”

“Fuck. No.”

“Jasper…”

He pulls his hand from mine. “That’s off the table. Lucio will rip your heart out the moment he realizes you’re Paolo’s long lost heir.”

“But—”

“No.” He turns to the closet and starts throwing clothes into a travel bag.

I barge in front of him, folding my arms over my chest. “So you can put yourself in danger but I can’t?”

“Exactly. Besides, I did this for a living. It’s different for you.”

“I can take care of myself. Also, you can’t keep me away from my family forever.”

“Watch me.”

“For the last time, I’m begging you to let me see my dad.”

“For the last time, no. Accept that you have no family but me.”

A tear trickles down my cheek and into my mouth. “Are you going to hurt him?”

He stays silent, but that in itself is an answer. He will. None of the Costas is safe with him.

Maybe not even me.

“Now, let me relieve those withdrawals so you stay a good pet for me.” He tugs on my collar with two fingers and slams his lips to mine.

He throws me on the bed and makes true of his words; he relieves those withdrawals, but he adds a different type of pain.

The one where he’s leaving me so he can hurt my father.

And I can’t let that happen.

15

JASPER

The sooner I’m done with this, the faster I can get back to my little Petal.

That’s basically the only thought that remained with me during the trip from Sicily to the States.

Enzo stayed back to take care of the people, the business and watch over Petal, but I don’t completely trust him.

I only trust his bloodthirst for revenge and the need that beats inside him like a living fucking being. That’s the only reason I left Petal under his protection. He knows if something happens to her, he’ll lose me and that’s not something he can afford.

Angelo and a few other men came with me in the private jet. The times where I moved on my own are over. My life doesn’t belong to me alone anymore. Now, I have an entire family to keep afloat, lands, farmers, people.

It’s almost surreal, but at the same time, it isn’t. I was raised on these aspects, and while I became a dog for another person, my fucking enemy, at some point, it doesn’t deny where I belong — with these people.

I motion at the men. “You two stay behind. Angelo, cover my back.”

After a curt nod and a final rundown of the plan, they scatter all around.

Angelo is antsy to go back to the latest widow he’s banging here in the States. He thinks widows are the most open for sex without strings attached.

Back to the plan; the idea is to disrupt Lucio’s shipments. Enzo and I have already ruined most of his Italian shipments, but we need to take care of the ones from China. Lucio has already lost some of his allies here, thanks to Paolo. I knew he wouldn’t stay still if he knew his dear brother was the reason not only behind his wife’s death, but he’s also trying to wipe out his only offspring.

Neither of them will have my little Petal, but they can dream.

This is the second storage facility my men and I will burn. The first was in the western part of the city. This one is a poorer neighborhood, near an old factory that’s out of business.

The reason I came personally is because I know this place best — perks of living as the family’s dog for decades. Enzo wanted me to send men and stay behind, but Enzo doesn’t know that a true leader gets things done himself. Maybe with time, I’ll learn to lean on others more, but for now, I can’t shake off the lone wolf’s state of mind.

Besides, I want perfectionism so Lucio can find his fall sooner rather than later. Neither Petal nor I will find peace as long as that fucker breathes.

Holding my gun, I flatten my back against the side of the building and motion at Angelo to keep his position. Then, I break the lock, letting the chain rattle to the side, before I barge inside.

There should be one or two guards in here. The rest must be preoccupied with the fire at the Costa property on the west side.

The storage is dark and smells of the wine Lucio keeps stocked here. I’m about to light my torch when the entire storage bathes in white light.

I blink but quickly jump behind boxes, Angelo follows suit.

“Buona Sera, Vitallio.”

My shoulder blades lock at the sound of Lucio’s voice. He’s not supposed to be here. What the fuck is he doing here?

Angelo and I chance a peek over the box, and there he is, Lucio. He sits on a chair in the middle of all of his stock and most of his men stand on either side of him, Stephan included.

Fuck!

He shouldn’t be here. No one other than my men knew it, and no one, absolutely no one from Sicily would betray me for Lucio’s sake. They all lost family because of that fucker, and they have more reasons to kill him than I do.

Blood for blood. That’s what we live for.

So how the fuck did he figure all this out?

Then, I make out the plump woman kneeling at Lucio’s feet. At first, I don’t recognize her. She’s bound, her hair in disarray and her limbs are purple and bruised.

It’s only after a close look that I recognize her.

Rebecca.

Rebecca Serrano.

The late Nathan Serrano’s wife who used to work as a nurse in my little Petal’s hospital before I kicked her out of the state.

She shouldn’t be here or with Lucio. He ordered her fucking husband killed.

Angelo’s face tightens and it all falls in place.

“She’s the widow you’re fucking?” I grit out from between my teeth.

“I didn’t tell her much.”

“Much? Fuck, Angelo. I killed her husband.”

“And she loathes Lucio,” he continues.

“What did you tell her during your fucking pillow talk?” I hiss.

“That you’re here. That’s all.”

“I’m so sorry,” Rebecca begs Angelo with her teary eyes. “He threatened my daughter. I’m so sorry.”

Lucio slaps her so hard, blood explodes from her lower lip and she shrieks. “Shut up, whore.”

Angelo’s hold tightens on the gun and I can feel the need to lunge, save her from whatever is going on in his head.

“Don’t even think about it,” I speak low so only he can hear me. “You’ll only get both of you killed.”

“So, Jasper,” Lucio muses. “Or should I call you Alessio now?”

When I don’t reply, he goes on in his smug voice. “You really thought you could ambush me on my own turf? Come on; you’ve been my dog for a long time; I can see your pattern. When Rebecca here mentioned you were back in town, I waited for your first move. You went after the smaller storage in the west, so I figured that was only camouflage and you’d go after a bigger one next, and here we are. On your deathbed.”

I send texts to the men outside and tell them to drive to the other end. The least they can do is save themselves.

When the reply comes, I release a breath.

“I’m going to kill you and finish the Vitallios once and for all. Then I’ll go to your beautiful Sicily and burn those fucking lands until they turn to ashes, along with the pretty Georgina.”

My shoulders tense and it takes several seconds to breathe straight.

Lucio will have to go through me first before he can get to Petal. I don’t care if I have to bring everything I planned to the ground because of it.

“You think you can take me, Lucio? Have you thought about my plan with Paolo?”

There’s silence from the other side and I know I’ve got him.

“Nothing you plan with Paolo scares me,” he finally spits out.

“Why, Luc, I think this one should. After all, it’s a tailored plan for you. Yes, you know me the best, but have you thought that I know you the best too? That I have all the susceptible information to cripple you?”

Silence.

Using the chance, I motion at Angelo to creep toward the entrance while still staying behind the boxes.

“What’s the deal?” he asks.

“You versus me. Everyone else out.” I don’t hesitate.

“Boss,” Stephan’s booming voice echoes in the silence. “Let me take care of the rat.”

Lucio shushes him. “Everyone out.”

“Send Rebecca this way,” I say and Angelo gives me a grateful look.

I’ll take care of him and her later, but she doesn’t need to die over this.

She’s sobbing as she trips before finally landing beside us. Angelo pulls her to his side even though his expression is tight.

When I make sure all Lucio’s men left through the other door, I motion at Angelo to use a small entrance by the back.

“How about you?” he whispers.

“I’ll be fine,” I murmur back. “Drive all the way to Wisconsin and stay there. I’ll find you.”

He hesitates, but I push him away, my attention falling back on Lucio.

After Angelo carries Rebecca out, I come out from behind the boxes. Lucio is still sitting on his chair; his face closed, neither smug nor worried.

He has something up his sleeve.

And so do I.

I point the gun in his direction. “The plan is simple, Lucio, you’ll fucking die.”

“Not before you.”

I barely see it before it materializes from my side.

Marco.

I should’ve known the dog would linger close to his master. I point my gun at him, but he already jams a needle at my neck.

My vision immediately loosens and my legs turn wobbly, unable to hold me up.

My eyes start rolling to the back of my head. I shake it, but it only makes the sensation more prominent.

Something slashes my chest, I pull the trigger, but the gun falls from my hand, hitting the ground with a loud clunk.

Lucio’s booming laughter fills the space. “You’ll fucking regret it all.”

He’s a blur, lines of black, but I punch him anyway. I lose my balance, and my body falls to the ground, my head dropping on the asphalt.

It’s weird how Petal’s face is the only thing I see as I slowly lose consciousness, those gray eyes, that smile — that fucking smile I dreamt about trapping, and now it’s gone.

All that remains is black.

16

GEORGINA

It’s been two days since Jasper left.

Two days of eavesdropping on Enzo to make sure he didn’t get himself killed there.

Two days of plotting.

Two days of preparing.

Today is the day I go home.

I put on pants, a hoodie and sports shoes I wear when I go to the fields. I would rather take all my clothes, but that will draw attention.

“Come here, guys.” I open the cages and they whine before they get inside. “Listen, Mrs. Hudson, Mr. Bingly, we’re going home. I’m going to hide you near the garage; it’s going to be a bit dark. I’m sorry, but I’ll come to get you soon.”

They just watch me with that snobbish expression that says ‘you are a crazy cat lady.’ After I hide them near the garage, I pretend to stretch since Enzo is speaking to one of the men by the house.

Ever since Jasper left, he’s been watching me like a hawk. I still think he’d kill me if he gets the chance, but since I saved Jasper, he’s been tucking away his maliciousness.

I smile at Salli and let Francesco hold my hand as we walk to the fields. As I listen to him talking, my chest tugs and second thoughts creep in. Do I really want to leave this place, these people? Jasper?

I internally shake my head. I can’t stay, not when Jasper is on a mission to kill my father. I need to go back and stop him. And most of all, I need to see my dad.

As soon as we arrive at the fields, I tell Salli I’m going to greet the other women. Instead, I sneak by the rear of the truck that delivers the supplies and climb at the back after I make sure no one is watching.

It smells of dirt and fertilizers, but I reign it in as I cover myself with the piece of cloth. The truck comes only once a week and it makes two stops. One at the fields and the other at the garage.

My breathing hitches as the truck moves then soon stops at the garage. The moment the man hops down and goes inside, I search my surroundings before doing the same.

I retrieve my cats’ cages, hide them under the oversized cloth and then join them. “We’re going to be okay,” I soothe them when Mr. Bingly starts to whine.

At the exit, the guards stop us. My heartbeat skyrockets as I place a hand over my mouth to suppress any sound.

The guard and the driver talk in Italian, but they’re mostly asking about each other’s family.

I don’t release the breath I’ve been holding until the truck leaves the property. I resist the urge to peek from beneath the cloth and have one last glance at the place.

Something tells me I’ll never forget it. It’ll be that permanent dent in my life. The type I’ll never get off my chest.

“What are you looking at?” I whisper at my cats. “You’re wrong. I don’t miss it already.”

We go on for what seems like forever. When the driver stops at a public restroom, I take my cats, the small messenger bag and hop off.

At first, I run away as far as I can. Then, I ask a lady in Italian how to get to Palermo. I don’t have my passport or enough money. My stash is cat food, bread, and some Euros I stole from Jasper’s pocket before he left.

My only chance to go back is to go to the embassy, but from the maps I managed to Google on one of the workers’ phones in secret, the US embassy is in Rome and that’s too far from here. But there’s a consular agency in Palermo. If I get there, they can take me to the embassy and send me home.

The lady stares at me, probably because of my accent, and I freeze, thinking maybe she’ll call Enzo or one of the people at the farm. Jasper never let me out of there, but there could be a word going on about me?

“Città di Palermo?” she asks.

“Si, si.” I smile trying to appear innocent.

Apparently, this place is near Catania and is in the south and Palermo is in the far north. The woman gives me directions to a bus station.

I’m on the edge of myself every time anyone looks at me for too long. Whether it’s the ticket man or the people at the station. I know it’s because of the cats, but I keep looking behind me expecting someone to catch me. I spend a few more Euros on sunglasses at a cheap shop and pull the hoodie over my head.

Thankfully, the bus doesn’t take long, and the cats are allowed since they’re in their cages.

The attendant keeps repeating that dogs need muzzles. I’m too stressed to tell her there’s no dog, so I just nod.

The trip takes around three hours. Three hours of nail-biting and looking over my shoulders and feeding or petting the cats whenever they get anxious.

It isn’t until I’m in front of the Consular building that I release a breath.

I barge inside, my fingers shaking. The receptionist, a young man with blond hair and blinding white teeth, smiles at me. “Welcome to the United States Consular Agency, may I help you?”

“Yes.” I gulp. “I want to go home.”

THINGS GO SMOOTHLY.

I keep watching over my shoulder, expecting Enzo or one of Jasper’s men to catch up to me and find me.

They don’t.

Instead, the people in the agency prepare me a ticket to Chicago. I thought they had to take me to Rome or at least make me wait until they get me the passport, but I find myself on a plane the same day. It’s first-class, too.

I nearly cried as I watched Sicily’s buildings in the distance, but then I recalled why I’m doing this and why I had to leave.

The flight takes more than a day. We stop in Rome then in London. The cats are restless by the time I pick them up at Midway airport.

I’m so exhausted; I want to lie down and sleep. I stop near the exit, remembering I’ve been away for months. I surely lost the lease to my apartment and my job. So I’m basically penniless and homeless.

Damn it.

I should call the bank and get a credit card and some money for living expenses.

It’s past five, though. Dropping on the airport chair, I sigh, scratching under Mrs. Hudson’s chin through the cage. “Looks like we’re staying the night here, babies.”

The few euros I have left will hardly be able to get us any food. Wait. Will I be able to convert them without a passport?

“Georgina?”

I jump up at the sound of my name. No one is supposed to know I’m here.

Did Enzo find me? Did I —

“Cara.”

My brows furrow at that and I slowly lift my head. An old man stands in front of me, his brows drawn together. He’s wearing an expensive suit. A few scary-looking men wearing black stand behind him.

I don’t focus on them, though.

Slowly, too slowly, I stand up as the familiarity hits me at the center of my chest. The same dark eyes, the same face, even though it looks slightly older.

“Papa?” I whisper as if I’m back to being a kid.

“Yes, Cara.” He smiles, the motion making him appear older. “I’m glad I found you first. I have friends in Palermo. If you went to Rome, it would’ve been a different story.”

“Papa,” I repeat, unable to believe my eyes. Emotions swirl inside me and I’m unable to control the flow of them.

“Come here, Cara.” He opens his arms and I dive into them, hugging him so close I’m scared I’ll hurt him.

“I missed you so much, Papa.”

“I missed you, too, Cara. From today onward, no one will take you away from me.”

17

JASPER

People who don’t know torture think it’s some sort of physical pain.

Like some beatings, some punches.

It’s more than that.

It’s the decimation of the human mind. Actual torture starts physically but always ends up being mental one way or another.

It’s like waking up, hoping the torment is over, but you find yourself in the same fucking hell.

I stay like that for days — or maybe it’s been weeks or months. I lost all sense of time and space after the first few days.

All I know is that I’m hanging by my arms, my limbs dragging on the filthy concrete floor as Stephan and Marco torture the fucking daylights out of me.

It’s not only whipping or punching, but there’s also all sorts of waterboarding. Whenever I lose consciousness, they douse me with water forcing me to wake the fuck up.

While Lucio is doing this for information, these two fuckers are only doing it for their spite against me. They never liked how I was the closest to their master, how he preferred me over their miserable existences, and they make it known.

At some point, I lost hope that Angelo and the men will return for me. Maybe they were ambushed and killed, maybe Angelo rode with Rebecca into the fucking sunset.

All I know is that my only hope of escape is by taking this whole mess in my hands.

And I need to fucking escape. My little Petal has been on her own in Sicily, and if Enzo thinks I’m dead or in danger, he won’t hesitate to either finish her life or use it as a bargaining chip.

He’s an unfeeling motherfucker, just like I once was.

I never thought there would be a day where I would be tortured to within an inch of my life, and all I would be thinking about is someone else’s life. Hers.

In the blackout moments or when I try to zone out from torture, her face is all I see, with that warm genuine smile. I imagine her features etched in worry when I finally go back to her; I imagine how she’d kiss me and ride me and make all this fucking chaos disappear in the background.

That’s why I need the fuck out of here.

Lucio is getting impatient and he’s starting to think I have no information to give him about Paolo. Once he makes sure of that fact, he’ll finish my life without a second thought.

I wait for my chance patiently, ever so patiently, until one day, I get Stephan alone.

He’s the dumbest of the two. Marco often makes decisions for both of them.

“You know about my history, Steph?”

“Fuck you.” He punches me in the face and I reel against the rattling chains, gritting my teeth.

“Lucio made me his dog after killing my family.”

“And why the fuck should I care?”

“Because he did the same to you, you dumb fuck.”

“I’m an orphan,” he snarls.

“He made me believe I was an orphan, too.” I cough, spitting away the blood in my mouth.

Stephan comes closer to shut me up, but I continue, “Remember Luca, the previous hitman? He made him believe he was an orphan, too, as if he saved him when he actually murdered his entire family.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jasper.”

“Whatever, fucker, kill for your family’s murderer.” He punches me then and Marco returns so they continue their torture fest.

I repeat the same speech whenever I get Stephan alone. I can sense his resolve waning and after days, or weeks — I’m not sure — he finally releases me when Marco isn’t there.

“Angelo is here,” Stephan drags me behind him as I stumble and choke on my own blood. “I’m not saving you.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“I’m taking my revenge.”

“Your revenge?” I did look into Stephan’s past, but I didn’t find much of a trace. I came up with the whole thing that Lucio killed his parents so he’d help me; I didn’t know it was actually true.

He places a gun in my hand as he slams the storage door open. “Shoot me.”

I can barely stand on my feet as he releases me and I brace myself near the wall. Sure enough, Angelo appears in a black-tinted car.

Stephan’s eyes dart sideways, probably expecting Marco or someone else to appear.

I don’t hesitate as I aim at his shoulder and pull the trigger. He grits his teeth cursing me.

“What?” I show him my bloodied teeth. “You said to shoot you.”

“A warning would’ve been fucking nice.” He clutches his arm, clenching his jaw.

“Consider it payback for the torture.” I hold on to Angelo when he comes to my side, clutching me by the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, boss. Many of our men were killed when they came to the States.”

I curse under my breath. Fucking Lucio.

As he guides me to the car, I stumble in the back seat. Enzo is in the passenger seat, his face solemn. When I see him, my injuries almost go unnoticed. “What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s Georgina?”

He says nothing and it’s worse than if he stabbed me with a knife.

If I was in a better physical state, I would’ve grabbed him by the throat and punched him in the fucking face.

“Where the fuck is she?” I snarl then cough up my own blood.

Angelo offers me a bottle of water and I throw it away, still glaring at Enzo even though blood is dripping from my lip.

Enzo’s jaw tightens. “She’s gone.”

I pause, breathing heavily at the thought that something happened to her.

She’s gone.

Dead.

No longer alive.

“What do you mean by she’s fucking gone?”

Enzo releases a long breath. “She ran back to Paolo Costa.”

SURE ENOUGH, my little Petal ran away.

A part of me is proud of the stunt she pulled on Enzo, how she got herself to the embassy in mainland Italy even though her Italian isn’t that good. Though maybe she went to Palermo and found her way from there.

She even took the fucking cats. That takes a woman of steel, especially in a foreign land where she knows no one.

The other part is fucking livid, and that’s the part I’ve been focusing on the past few weeks.

While I’ve been recovering from the torture, I made a few business decisions back in Italy and left De Marco in charge of the lands.

Enzo, Angelo and I are staying here now. It’s pointless to draw the enemy back to Sicily when we can get him on his own fucking ground.

Now that we have Stephan on the inside, a new plan is forming.

And yes, part of the reason why I’m here is because of her, Georgina, my little Petal. My fucked up obsession.

Only is it just an obsession anymore? I’m starting to think it’s morphing into something more than that, something potent and out of fucking control.

I haven’t stepped into the bedroom in Sicily because it reminds me so much of her. The thought of walking in that house, not hearing her singing or talking to her damn cats makes me fucking depressed.

So I went back to my old habits, watching from afar.

Now that she’s with Paolo, I can’t unleash my full stalker mode — considering he’s become more religious about security, but I catch glimpses of her when she goes out.

A pampered mafia princess.

Paolo has unleashed his doting father role on her, making her the princess of his little mansion.

She’s enjoying it, too, or maybe she’s enjoying the fact she’s with her father. There’s a spark in her gray eyes whenever she looks at him, not to mention that she hugs him every chance she gets.

My little Petal always needed affection. Even when she was Joseph, she would snuggle to my side and hug my arm, my waist, or even my leg. Anywhere was fine as long as she had human contact.

Over the years, she smothered that part of her, but now that she found her family, the longing is slowly peeking out.

I try not to feel bitter about the fact that I somehow, in my fucked up fantasies, wished that I’d be the one who’d provide that for her.

Enzo and Angelo have been trying to stop me from taking the next step, but fuck them and fuck her if she thinks she can get rid of me this easily.

No matter how good Paolo’s security is, there are also small openings that you can’t control that well; like drunk guards.

All the time I’ve been watching, I caught one of Paolo’s men drinking during his night shift and because of that, he has to take pauses to piss. They’re one of the rarest moments I’ll have to go inside.

I spend most of the night by the corner of a house across the street in my car. Through my binoculars, I see my little Petal on her balcony, petting her fat orange cat and going through something on her laptop.

She couldn’t be watching porn or she’d have her headphones on.

She’s wearing a robe, her hair tied back, and she’s without makeup, but she couldn’t look any more beautiful.

My little breakable Petal.

Soon enough, she disappears inside and her lights go off.

Sleep while you can, my pet.

It takes me another hour of patiently waiting until the guard takes his first pissing pause.

My ribs still ache from the torture session, but I grit my teeth and stalk over the wall in the camera’s blind spot.

I’ve been watching this place so religiously; I know every hole and every camera’s position.

After one last sweep of my surroundings, I climb the wall until I reach my little Petal’s balcony.

Mrs. Hudson winks at me from her sleeping position on the laptop. I swear all that cat ever does is sleep. Mr. Bingly mewls, standing by the glass doors and I place a finger in front of my mouth.

He ignores me wiggling his tail left and right. I lock them both out but leave the blinds open, allowing the moonlight to bathe the room in a silver hue.

I stalk toward the bed, kicking off my shoes and yanking down my pants and my boxer briefs.

My little Petal is splayed on her back, the duvet stopping at her middle. Her nightgown is thin and hints at her hardened nipples.

For a moment, I stand there, ignoring my hard dick and the need to fuck her until she screams the whole damn place down.

I watch her, the soft curves of her face, the steady rise and fall of her chest, and allow myself to get my fill of her. And the collar. She hasn’t removed the collar from her neck.

All these weeks, I’ve been roaming along the earth, plotting and scheming and watching from afar. Always from fucking afar.

The fact I haven’t touch her in fucking weeks has turned me into this grumpy fucker who snaps at anyone and anything — more than before.

I yank off my jacket and shirt, remaining naked, and slowly remove the duvet, leaving her completely at my viewing pleasure. I crawl atop of her slowly not to alert her and plant both my knees on either side of her.

“Wake up, Pet, time for another fantasy.” I wrap a hand around her throat and squeeze so hard, she wakes up with a start.

For a moment, she’s frozen in place, staring up at me with wild eyes and mouth agape.

Then, slowly, too slowly, a light sparks in her gray gaze, something like relief.

Wait. Something like...relief?

She’s relieved to see me?

“Jasper?” She chokes.

“The one and only, Pet. Did you really think you’d get rid of me?”

Her nails dig into my arms as she tries to fight me off, but it’s useless. She’s already at my complete control.

“You ran away from me, but you can never escape me, Pet.”

“Jas…” She claws at my skin, and I know I’m squeezing hard, hard enough to leave prints for later, and that’s why I’m doing it.

Another part is the fact she wanted to go, to leave me, to never see my fucking face again, while I was being tortured.

She left me when all I did was fight for our lives together.

Still choking her, I yank her nightgown up, ripping the sorry excuse of cloth in the process. She moans when my hand makes contact with her bare cunt.

“No panties you filthy little slut.” I hum, thrusting two fingers inside her. “You’re going to live the fantasy of being raped by an intruder, Pet. I’m going to fuck you so hard; you won’t be able to move properly tomorrow.”

Her eyes water, but she moans again and again as I finger fuck her until she’s gasping for air.

I don’t waste time on foreplay. When I feel her close, I remove my fingers, soaking in her disappointed mewl.

I loosen my hold from around her neck, just the slightest bit. “You want me to continue?”

“Jasper…”

“Do. You?”

“Y-yes.”

I position my dick at her entrance but don’t enter her. I rip her nightgown’s strap, revealing her tightened nipples and pinch them hard.

“Oh, Jasper, please...please…”

“Please what?”

“Please…” her face reddens when I squeeze again. “Fuck me.”

Usually, that would be it. Usually, I would be fucking her, spanking her, making our worlds come apart, but she made a mistake.

She left.

She fucking left.

“You think you can leave and I’ll fuck you as if nothing happened?” I slap her cunt and she shrieks before muffling the sound in the pillow.

“You took me captive. You didn’t let me visit my father, what did you expect, damn you?”

For you to stay.

But I don’t say that and slap her wet cunt again. She hides a muffled groan. “Please, Jas…”

“You fucked up everything, Pet.” I grab her hip and slam balls deep inside her, making her scream almost immediately.

I barely thrust into her tight cunt and she’s coming around me, choking me, keeping me where I always belonged.

Squeezing her throat, I ram inside her with all the possessiveness and the hate and these screwed up feelings I have for this girl. “You’re a filthy slut, Georgina. A filthy fucking slut.”

“N-not Georgina,” she sobs, tears falling down her cheeks as she chases the wave. “Don’t call me that.”

“You left.” I slap her ass cheek while ramming my cock inside her. “You fucking left.”

“I’m sorry.” She cries through the tears. “I’m so sorry.”

I come then. Spurts of my cum coat her insides, then trickle down her thighs.

Our chests are rising and falling harshly as she pulls me down and kisses me through her tears and sobs. She kisses me like we were never apart. She kisses me like she won’t live on if she doesn’t do that.

“I missed you, Jas,” she whispers against my mouth.

I wrench myself from her, releasing her throat and coming out of her.

In a second, I’m slipping back into my boxers and trousers.

“Jas…” she calls after me.

I chance a look behind me. She’s still splayed on the bed, but she pulled herself on her elbows. Her nightgown is torn, her tits hanging and my cum streaks down her thighs as she rubs them together as if keeping the feeling of me inside her.

“Stay. No one comes here at night.”

There’s nothing else I want other than to stay the night, to hold her to sleep, to kiss her fucking lips until I get drunk on them.

But I can’t.

Not only because I’ll get caught, but also because whenever I see her face, I feel a deep sense of betrayal.

She fucking left.

Without a word, I throw my shirt and jacket over my shoulder and head outside.

Her soft cries follow me, but I grit my teeth and jump down.

Maybe now, she’ll feel what it means to be fucking stranded.

18

GEORGINA

It’s been days since Jasper showed up again.

Days since he held me down and fucked me.

Days since he left.

He left again and this time I have no way to stop him.

Or find him.

I’ve pretended to leave the balcony door open every night. I’ve tossed and turned in bed, watching the curtains flapping inside and hoping against hope that he’ll show up.

He didn’t.

To say I missed him would be an understatement. Ever since I left Sicily, it’s been the only thing I’ve been thinking about.

He’s the only thing I’ve been thinking about.

After I settled down with Dad, I spent days and weeks getting used to this new life. When I told him I wanted to work again, he said it was dangerous for me in the outside world.

All that time Dad has spent showing me around his property and his restaurants and everything he owns — which happens to be a lot; I couldn’t stop thinking about Jasper.

If he’s okay, if he went back to Sicily or maybe if he’s mad that I disappeared.

I expected him to come to find me sooner, and when he didn’t, I was both relieved and disappointed. It’s not that I want to leave Dad, but I thought that since Jasper didn’t hurt him, we could maybe talk?

How naive could I be to think Jasper and I could talk? He might not have hurt Dad until now, but maybe he would in the future. Maybe he’ll come back to me just so he can use me against my father.

I’m a Costa and he’s a Vitallio.

There’s nothing that can erase those facts.

Still, like every morning, I touch the collar, as if making sure it’s there and to get a feel of Jasper.

Dad asked me what it was and I told him it’s a necklace. And it is — the most precious necklace I could’ve ever gotten.

It’s a reminder of what I share with Jasper and no one gets to take that away.

I go downstairs for my daily walk with Dad in the garden. He has a bad cough and the fresh air helps him clear his lungs. Usually, he’d tell me all sorts of things about Mom and how much he wanted to protect her and me; that’s why he kept us away from this life.

He lost all contact with me when Sarah, the woman who got me into the boys’ boarding school, took me away and he couldn’t locate us.

Dad was looking for a boy but soon after that boarding school, I turned back into a girl and Sarah was good at covering my tracks. She was Mom’s best friend and made it her mission to protect me from the life that killed my mom.

When I asked if I could meet and thank her, Dad said she was found dead. The grief I felt for her reopened the grief I still feel for my mom.

I stop at the threshold of the living area. Instead of Dad, Lucio stands there, a smug look on his face as if he’s been waiting for me all along.

“Hello, Georgina,” he drawls.

I’d met Lucio here before when Dad made us both sit for a family dinner. During the entire meal, I’d been stealing looks at him, expecting him to jump and kill me — which wouldn’t be a surprise considering that I took Lucio’s place and he hates me.

I jut my chin, refusing to let him see how much he scares me. “Hello, Uncle.”

“Looks like you’re enjoying the life here, aren’t you?”

“I’m happy with my dad if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Enjoy it while you can.” He smirks, placing one hand over the other. “I admit, you got me with the whole cross-dressing business, but now that I found you...I’ll dote on you like a good uncle.”

I don’t miss the sinister edge in his tone. He’s out for my head.

“Jasper hasn’t told you how doting I can be?” He approaches me slowly, but surely. “Oh, right. You haven’t seen him after my last torture session with him.”

Torture?

Lucio tortured Jasper?

I swallow, but I try to maintain my posture, refusing to let Lucio get the reaction he seeks.

Is that why Jasper disappeared? Oh, God. He didn’t find me right away because he was tortured. I can’t believe I left when he was in so much pain.

No wonder he was mad I left. I would’ve been if I were in his shoes.

What have I done?

“Give it up, Georgina. Tell Paolo you don’t want the throne and I will let you live. I’ll even let Jasper live. See how generous I am?”

“I’m not a kid, Uncle. You’ll kill me the first chance you get and watch Papa die inch by each agonizing inch. You’re a monster and I’ll never let you take what you don’t deserve.”

“I don’t deserve?” He grips me hard by the arm. “What do you know about what I deserve and what I don’t? I’ve built this over the years. I stayed in the background as my father ruled, waiting for the chance to finally take the throne. Neither you or that fucker Jasper will get in the way. So what if people died? All wars need sacrifices.”

I try to wiggle free, but Lucio’s hold is like steel.

“Let go of my daughter this instant.” Dad appears from behind me.

“I was only greeting her, Paolo.” Lucio leans in to whisper so only I can hear him. “You’ll pay for coming in to ruin my plans. The clock is ticking.”

I slightly stumble backward when he releases me. The brute.

Dad stands beside me, his presence bringing back some safety. “What are you doing here, Lucio?”

Lucio hugs Dad, smiling. “I only came by to see if you’re doing well.”

“I am. You can leave now.”

“You don’t have to kick me out every time your daughter is in the scene.”

“We’ll meet at the inauguration banquet where I will announce Georgie as the Costa heir, Lucio.”

My uncle’s jaw ticks, but he forces a smile. “Of course. Early congratulations, Georgina.”

He hugs me and I stiffen as he murmurs, “Tick. Tock.”

A shiver still goes through my body even after he leaves.

“Are you okay?” Dad caresses my arm.

“I’m fine.”

“He won’t hurt you, Georgie. I didn’t protect your mother, but I’ll protect you from him.”

It dawns on me then, the maliciousness in Lucio’s tone, the spider tattoo. My fear of spiders over the years. When I was a kid, I thought a big bad spider murdered my mom.

It all makes sense now.

I lift m chin as I stare up at Dad. “He...he killed Mom, didn’t he?”

“I have no evidence, but Alessio mentioned it.”

“Alessio?”

“Alessio Vitallio. Jasper.”

“I know who he is, Dad.” I lower my gaze. “I’ve been with him in Sicily.”

“You mean he kidnapped you to Sicily.”

“Yeah.” But I don’t know why my brain finds trouble keeping up with that fact.

Maybe because Sicily became so much more than the place I’d been kept captive. It slowly became...a home.

I miss it; I miss Salli and Francesco and even Angelo and Enzo.

“Can I ask you something?” I face Dad.

“Of course.”

“Jasper says you killed his family. Is that true?”

“I didn’t participate.”

“But it happened?”

“It was a strategic decision made by your grandfather.”

“What’s strategic about killing people?”

He holds my shoulders. “We don’t live in a rainbow world, Georgie. If you want to survive, you need to make tough decisions.”

“Does it have to be this way? Isn’t there legitimate business within the family?”

“It’ll take a long time to get clean.”

“I don’t care. We can do it together.”

He kisses my temple. “We’ll see.”

No, we’ll do it. I’m sure we will.

Maybe then, Jasper can finally forgive Dad for the past.

19

JASPER

When my little Petal comes into the room, she finds me lying on my elbow on her bed.

A smile grazes her lips, it’s discreet, but I can see the happiness behind it and once again, the relief.

She’s relieved to find me here after thinking I’d left her for good.

I was planning to punish her a lot longer, have her look out from the window, leaving the balcony’s door open and basically begging me to come and take her.

Be with her.

However, I’ve come to the realization that I’m actually weak when it comes to my little Petal.

I can’t stay away. That’s equal to breathing non-clean air. The act of breathing is there, but it’s also suffocating your own lungs.

While I spend my days holed in the office with Enzo and Angelo, plotting our next move, all I can think about is night time where I get to watch my little Petal and see her, even from afar.

She forces her face into a neutral expression. “What are you doing here?”

“Whatever the fuck I want.”

A sigh rips from her as she sits on the edge of the bed, it’s close, but not close enough to have me invading her space. She scratches under Mr. Bingly’s chin absentmindedly and he purrs in delight.

Little fucker.

I’m really reconsidering my strikes system against animals.

“Lucio just threatened me,” she says through a sigh. “Do you think he’ll hurt Dad?”

“Given the chance, he won’t only hurt Paolo, but he’ll kill you both and keep your remains in jars.”

She swallows audibly. Good.

Now, she knows the lions’ den she has herself in.

And I’m going to use the chance to glue her to my side one way or another.

I can’t keep sneaking into Paolo’s house. Sooner or later, one of the guards will pick up a pattern and everything will be fucking over.

She peeks at me. “What should I do?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Well, you’re more familiar with this type of life than I am.”

The fact she’s asking for my opinion should flatter me, but it doesn’t. She’s only asking me so she’ll root herself further with her fucking father and family name.

Mr. Bingly purrs loudly again and I push him away. He jumps from the bed but not before scratching me.

“Hey!” she protests, seeming more worried about her cat than me.

“He scratched me.”

“That’s because you chased him away.” She pauses. “So?”

“So what?”

“Are you going to answer me or are you still going to ignore me?”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

“Yeah, right.” She pouts then quickly masks it. “You left that day, Jas.”

“You left first.”

“Why can’t you understand that I need my father?”

“Probably because that same father killed my own father and mother and grandmother and sister for that matter.”

She gulps audibly. “My grandfather is the reason behind that, not my father.”

I scoff. “Are you serious?”

“Why, yes. My father would never do that.”

“You’re too blinded that you can’t even see the truth, Georgina.”

“Or maybe you’re the one who’s refusing to see it.” She folds her arms over her chest.

Silence stays between us for a few seconds. It’s useless to fight her about Paolo’s involvement in my family’s death. She’s seeing him as this larger than life presence who’ll give her a family life she lost as a kid.

“Jas…” She touches my cheek with her fingers and I feel like the fat cat, being caressed by her, being looked at with those soft eyes. “Why can’t you let go?”

“Let go of what? Of the memory of blood, of seeing my mother’s vacant eyes after she protected me with her life?”

“No, of the grudge. It’ll only eat you from the inside out.”

I release a long breath, but I don’t pull away from her touch as her finger strokes my cheek.

For a moment, I feel untouchable, like the world is in the palm of my hands. As long as I have her, then I can be one invincible motherfucker.

I clutch her by the arm and pull her underneath me. She releases an excited yelp before it turns into a moan as I claim her lips.

“Jas…” Her fingers get lost in my hair and she kisses me with abandon, as if like me, she needs that sense of belonging, that sense that we’re it for each other.

We fought it for so long, but my little Petal and I share a connection, an inkling no one else is able to have.

Sometimes, it’s fucking damnation, all the shit I feel for her, but other times, like now, it’s fucking everything.

In no time, I have her and myself naked and then I’m thrusting into her in slow measured jerks.

“Oh, God.” Her body contracts all around me while she holds on to me as if I’m her world.

Just like she’s mine.

I don’t stop, fucking her slowly, so slowly that tears rim her eyes and she stares up at me as if knowing exactly where this is going.

“What are you doing to me?” she breathes. “Take me rough, hard. I’m your slut.”

“You’re more than my slut. You’re my fucking world.”

She cries out then, clenching around me with all her might, calling my name over and over.

“You’re my world, too, Jas. My one and only.”

I come.

Just like that, I empty my seed in her womb and a strange thought comes to mind.

I’m stealing her fucking pills and putting a baby in her.

Our baby.

She’s breathing heavily as she holds onto my arm, staring up at me with that small smile and a dazed expression.

I brush a kiss at her temple and she moans softly.

“Come with me, Petal.”

Her brows furrow. “Where?”

“To Sicily. We’ll start fresh, a blank page. Just you and I.”

Her eyes widen in surprise and her mouth opens then closes without saying anything.

I understand. Even I surprised myself with that. All I know is that I need this fucking woman in my life.

“W-what?” she stutters.

“You heard me. Come with me, this time, not as a captive, but because you want to.”

“Jas…” her eyes soften.

“We’ll even take the fucking cats.”

She chuckles, the sound easy and music to my fucking ears.

Then, her expression drops. “Are you going to forget about your grudge against Dad?”

I pull off her and yank my clothes on, my mood darkening in a split second. She had to fucking ruin it.

“I take that as a no?” She wraps the sheet around her shoulder, voice cracking.

“Paolo killed my fucking family, Georgina; I can’t just forget about it. Did you forget about your mother’s death?”

“You’re not being fair.”

“Not being fair? Do you know what’s not fair? Being this entangled with you when you’re my enemy’s daughter, when I should’ve killed you instead of —” I cut off, running a hand through my hair.

“Instead of what?”

“Instead of wanting to fucking take you with me to my family’s land.”

She folds her arms. “If you won’t forgive my father, then maybe we should remain enemies.”

“We should, huh?”

“I’ll never ever forgive you if you hurt my father, Jasper. Ever.”

I see it then, the determination in her despite the tears in there. She means every word, and she already made her choice.

She chose her dad.

Blood runs thicker than water.

Paolo’s words from the other time mock me.

He’s right.

No matter what I do, she’ll always drift back to her father, her fucking family name.

She’s a Costa after all. A Costa heir.

“Goodbye, Georgina.” My shoulders drop as I turn to leave.

For the very fucking last time.

20

GEORGINA

I wipe the tear sliding down my cheek as I stare at myself in the mirror.

My dress is long and elegant. My hair and makeup are done professionally, giving me a finesse I would’ve never accomplished myself.

Today, Dad will introduce me to the world as his heir — the Costa heir.

While my heart beats fast at that idea, at the fact that I’m going to officially be a mafia princess and the continuation of Dad’s legacy, it’s not the reason behind the tears.

It’s the goodbye Jasper said a few days ago, the finality and the brutality of it.

He seems to have meant it this time. Whenever I recall the look in his eyes, all I want to do is break down and cry.

But leaders can’t cry, can they?

Besides, Jasper is still hell-bent on hurting my dad. He’ll never stop his mindless revenge.

I don’t know why I was naive to think he’ll stop for me or that he’ll put an end to the madness.

For a moment, I wanted to leave all of this behind and go with him to Sicily. I wanted to be the woman who elopes with the man who stole her heart and mind.

But I can never be an item with someone who’s planning to hurt my father.

A knock on the door wrenches me out of my thoughts.

I clear my throat, touching the collar one final time before I speak. “Come in.”

Dad walks inside with a huge smile on his face. “My beautiful daughter. You look so much like your mother.”

He kisses the back of my hand and I force myself to stay strong and not cry.

“Thank you, Papa.”

“I want you to know that there hasn’t been a day I didn’t miss you and your mother.” He strokes the back of my hand. “I’ve been slowly dying until you showed up in my life again.”

“I’m so happy I found you.” I kiss his cheek.

He offers me his elbow. “Are you ready?”

“Always.”

As we walk down the hall, I take deep breaths. I’m not a fool. I know a woman can’t rule in a world of tradition, and that eventually, potential men will ask Dad for my hand — if they haven’t already.

The thought of being married to anyone but Jasper makes me choke on my own breaths.

It’s stupid to think of him as a husband when we haven’t even officially dated.

I’ll fight the marriage talk as much as I can. Even though this whole thing is new, I have faith that I’ll be able to get through this with Dad and his men’s help. They care for me and they answer all my questions when I ask.

It’ll take time but I’ll get there.

But first of all, I need to get this night out of the way.

Deep breaths. I can do this.

I imagine Jasper by my side, smiling at me, and I know, I just know that this is only the beginning of the suffering.

21

JASPER

It’s strange how your plans can fail or soar in a matter of seconds.

If I look back on the events that started since that day Lucio told me to look for Costa’s heir, neither of us imagined we’d be here.

We used to be on the same battlefield, now we’re not only separated but we’re also out to destroy each other.

From then to now, there’s only been one constant — my little Petal with her metallic eyes and fake smiles.

It has returned, the smile that reached her eyes but not her heart, the smile that says she’s hiding a lot more than she’s showing.

And yes, I’ve been watching, only from afar. I’m an addict, and addicts need to ease off the drug before completely cutting it off.

I’ve been watching how Paolo has been turning her into his own mafia princess, his legacy and heir. I’ve been watching how she stood in front of the mirror and touched her fingers to the collar.

I wonder if she thinks about me as much as I think about her, or if touching her collar has become a habit.

If she wanted to remove it, she could’ve asked for her father’s help and it would’ve been done, but she didn’t.

She didn’t even attempt to get rid of it herself, even when she escaped, almost as if wanting me to find her wearing that collar.

Tonight, my little Petal and I will have our final and real goodbye. I’ll make her worst nightmare come true, and she’ll hate me for fucking eternity.

She’s wrong. I can’t just let go.

Every time I sleep, all I see is my mother’s dead eyes and the blood soaking her chest after Petal’s fucking father, uncle, and grandfather killed everyone I had in cold blood.

Because of that, I turned into this bitter person with no attachment, trust or fucking belonging — aside from being a dog to my family’s mass shooter.

“Ready?” Enzo asks from beside me in the car.

We’re both wearing tuxedos to mingle with the rest of the crowd at Paolo’s party. A party where he’ll introduce my little Petal as his rightful heir.

A party I’ll burn down to the ground.

“Is Angelo in position?” I ask.

“Already in.”

I button my jacket as I step out of the car. “Let’s do this.”

We go into the house, flashing fake invites that the guards gobble up. They don’t suspect Enzo since he’s been a Costa ally his entire life, but the guard at the entrance must be new considering he doesn’t recognize me either. If he did, I would’ve gotten rid of him, so he’s lucky to live a few more minutes.

Enzo and I don’t waste time between partygoers — the fuckers in tuxedos and the women in expensive gowns and jewelry who are pretending they’re here for my little Petal. They’re only here for the Costa’s power. While Paolo is old and frail, his name is enough to attract the entire fucking city.

We go separately to corners and disable as many alarm systems as possible without triggering the control room.

Once I determine we crippled the outside security enough, I retrieve my phone and text Stephan that it’s time.

Sure, I could’ve brought what remains of my men and went in an all-out war against the Costas, but they have more manpower than me and the city is their turf. All my men would end up dead, and I’d be captured, tortured and probably killed.

Going all in would’ve only hurt me and my men, and the people who look up to me back in Sicily.

So I did the next best thing; using their manpower against each other.

With Stephan’s help on Lucio’s side, I’ve managed to convince the younger brother that his only way to rule is to get rid of Paolo and Georgina when they least expect it.

Lucio has been restless lately, thinking all his efforts will go to waste and he’ll lose the king position when he’s so close to tasting it.

But being a Costa, he never actually wanted to kill Paolo. He’s fine with finishing off Georgina and her mother, but not his brother. It’s his fucked up way of picking the only family member he has left.

However, now that Paolo is threatening his life, all I need is a devil — in the form of Stephan — to whisper over Lucio’s shoulder and convince him that Paolo will kill him, so he might as well do it first.

What’s the best way to catch Paolo off guard than at his own party?

The moment Lucio ambushes him, Paolo’s men will fight, and I’ll watch as they kill each other.

Angelo will take Petal to a safe place until this whole shitstorm is over. Once her father drops dead, she’ll hate me; she’ll despise me, she’ll want to kill me.

I’ll take it.

After all, she would’ve never been fully mine with the way things are heading.

She’ll always be a Costa and I’ll always be a Vitallio.

We’re not little Joseph and Jasper from the boarding school. We’re not two young souls finding refuge in each other, now we’re enemies and it’s all because of her fucking family.

Remaining near the windows, I pretend to talk to Enzo while we stare outside.

A few of Lucio’s men have started to filter inside. Two of Paolo’s men at the entrance drop to the ground after being shot at.

The war has already begun.

Enzo toasts his glass of champagne with mine, a slight smirk on his lips.

He’s the type who doesn’t only love the taste of revenge but also chaos. Watching people die darkens his eyes in a sick type of sadism almost similar to mine when I used to be a cleaner dog.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my home.” Paolo’s voice echoes from the top of the stairs. He’s wearing a tuxedo and raises a glass of champagne.

Your very last, old man.

“I’m happy you decided to join us for the introduction of my long lost daughter as the rightful Costa heir. Please raise your glasses to Georgina Costa.”

I smirk, imagining his disappointment when she won’t show up.

Fuck him basically.

Angelo must be taking her outside and —

A petite woman puts her fair hand in Paolo’s as she stands beside him. She’s wearing a black dress that reaches her knees. Her black hair falls in waves to the middle of her back.

My mood darkens in a fraction of a second.

What the fuck is she doing here? She’s supposed to be gone. I told Angelo to drug her, because there’s no way in fuck she would’ve gone with him willingly.

The hall erupts with toasts as my phone vibrates with a text.

Angelo: Sorry, boss, she was already with her father when I got there.

Fuck.

Fucking fuck!

That woman always ruins my plans. Fucking always.

I steal a look outside, but it’s already too late.

As the people inside toast to Paolo’s new heir and she smiles like a princess on her father’s throne, my other plan goes into motion as smoothly as a boat in a calm sea.

Enzo takes cover to watch the chaos unfold.

I run upstairs. To her — my fucking damnation.

Paolo’s face contorts upon seeing me and Petal’s features morph in both relief and surprise.

Before either of them can do anything, Lucio’s men barge from the grand double doors.

Screams and gunshots echo in the air as loud voices tell everyone to go outside.

Lucio wouldn’t hurt his investors and money bringers. The only one he has an interest in are the two people standing in front of me.

I grab Petal by the arm and pull her behind me.

“Jas...what are you doing?”

“Saving your fucking life, which would’ve happened without all this drama if you followed Angelo.”

“Papa…” She struggles against me despite my steel hold. “I have to get Papa.”

“No.”

“Jasper!”

“Shut the fuck up and follow me, Petal. Lucio won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“He’ll hurt Papa.” Her voice is emotional, angry, but also sad.

“Let go of my daughter right now, Vitallio.” A click of a gun sounds behind me and I stop.

Slowly turning around, I find Paolo oblivious to the whole mess around him, to his guards being killed, to Lucio walking in with a smug grin like a king in another man’s country.

Petal shakes her head at her father. “Don’t, Papa. Don’t shoot him.”

At this moment, something inside me unlocks.

At this moment, I know I won’t kill Paolo and make her look at me with that disappointment, hate, and eventually revenge. I won’t restart the vicious cycle with her.

For now, her safety is the most important thing. I pull her by the arm, but Paolo clicks his gun. “I’ll kill you, don’t doubt it.”

“Papa…”

All of us pause when Lucio reaches the top of the stairs and points a gun to Georgina’s chest.

I push her behind me, but it’s already too late.

Lucio pulls the trigger and a loud bang echoes in the hall.

22

GEORGINA

The sound of gunshots echo in the air, but there's only one that matters.

The one aimed at me.

One second, Lucio is pointing the gun at me and the next, Dad is in front of me and then the sound of the gunshot fills the space.

I shriek as he falls to the floor.

A red spot oozes from his jacket and stains his shirt red.

Lucio’s face contorts, realizing what he’s done.

I fall to my knees by Dad’s side, pressing trembling hands to his bleeding chest.

“Call an ambulance,” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Someone call an ambulance!”

I’ve treated many gunshot wounds to know that patients don’t survive after losing this much blood, especially if their lungs are weak like Dad, but I refuse to believe that. I refuse to look at the logical side of things.

His face turns sticky white and he places his hand atop of mine, his lips turning blue.

“No, no, Papa, stay with me.”

“I-I’m so happy I got to meet you before I died, Georgie…”

“No, Papa. You promised to be with me every step on the way. Stay, please. We didn’t spend any time together.” Tears fall down my cheeks as I press harder.

He winces, but the blood won’t stop. Not even a little.

My dad is dying. I feel it and my heart is slowly but surely breaking because of it.

“P-Papa…”

“I love you, Georgie…” he whispers as his hand turns heavy in mine and his eyes stare at nowhere.

“Nooo, Papa!”

“Paolo…” Lucio’s haunted voice cuts through my grief like a knife. “It’s all because of you.” He points the gun at me. “You’re the reason he’s dead.”

Jasper appears by his side and I know, I just know that he will take the bullet for me like Dad did. He’ll die for me.

I can’t have him do that. I can’t let Lucio take any more people from me.

Rage wooshes inside me like a current. I let it take complete control as I snatch Papa’s gun that fell to his side, aim at Lucio’s chest and fire.

No hesitation. No trembling of my fingers.

As he drops to the ground, his face contorted between shock and horror, everyone else around us seems to freeze for a second.

That man took my mother and now my father.

He ruined mine and Jasper’s lives and now he pays with this.

He pays with blood.

23

JASPER

By the time everything ends, Petal is beat.

She’s still in the same dress from the doomed party, her hair disheveled and her mascara has streaked to the side of her eyes.

Paolo’s men listened to her when she asked them to clean everything up. Even some of Lucio’s men, who now have no place to go, have decided to stay.

Enzo and Angelo are keeping an eye on them in case they change their minds or come after my little Petal.

They wouldn’t have a reason to, and both Stephan and Marco died in the gunfight that took place, so there’s no loyalty to Lucio; there’s only loyalty to Costa, and at the moment, my little Petal is the only Costa alive.

The only Costa alive.

I let that information soak in as I watch her.

She asks one of Paolo’s senior guards to go to the morgue and that she’ll shower and meet him there.

He’s a big man with tattoos and a beard and gives me a quizzical glare when he sees me following her, but thankfully, he keeps his mouth shut.

My little Petal is a bit dazed as she goes into her room. I follow her, closing the door behind us.

For a second, she just stands in the middle of the room, the light coming from the bathroom casting a soft hue on her pale skin.

It’s like she’s taking her time to process what happened, to deal with the loss of her father, with being the only Costa alive. All of it.

My little Petal might have lived a hardened childhood, but nothing could’ve prepared her for what happened tonight.

Every particle of my being is telling me to go there, grab her by the neck, kiss her, make it all go away, but I force my hands into my pockets instead. Even I recognize she needs the time to deal with this on her own first.

A few minutes pass with her standing there, emotionless, almost like she’s in a trance, then suddenly, her hand shoots to her back and she struggles with the zipper, groaning in frustration when it doesn’t come off.

I walk to her and wrap my hand around hers, softly peeling it away and pull down the zipper to the middle of her back.

Her skin comes into view, pale and a bit scratched at the top from all the struggling that happened. In the silence of the room, I allow my fingers to trail over her skin. She’s trembling, her teeth chattering as if she’s cold.

“It’s going to be okay. You’re a strong woman, you always have been.”

A sob erupts from her throat and she abruptly turns around. Her arms wrap around my middle and she buries her face in my chest, crying softly, so softly, it’s barely audible even in the silence.

“It hurts…” She sniffles. “It hurts so much.”

I stroke her hair, pushing it from her face and murmuring soothing words in her ear, like it’s going to be okay, I’m here for her.

She cries harder for what seems like hours, wrapping all her limbs around me and lets the dress pool to the ground.

It’s hard to concentrate when her naked body is molded to mine, and I’m only separated from her by her panties. Her bare tits push against my chest, but I manage to hold her through it.

We end up on the bed, me sitting down and her wrapped all over my lap.

Her face is hidden in my neck as she breathes against my skin and wets it with her tears.

After long minutes of crying, with me patting her back, she finally calms down and sniffles against me.

“It still hurts,” she says through hiccups.

I want to tell her that it’ll get better, but it won’t. She’ll always think of this loss and everything that came with it.

“It’ll continue hurting for a while,” I murmur in the silence. “But you somehow learn to live with it, Petal, because life goes on and you don’t have a choice.”

Her grip tightens around my neck as she murmurs. “M-make me forget, Jas.”

She doesn’t have to ask twice. In one swift movement, I get rid of my pants and boxers and then her panties.

“Look at me, Pet.”

“No, I look bad.”

“I don’t care how you look. Come on, show me that face.”

She slowly peels herself from my neck and stares at me with her puffed gray eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks and her lips parted.

I hold her by the back of her neck and seal my lips to hers as I slam inside her.

Warmth. Belonging.

That’s what my little Petal is, was, and always will be.

She moans against my mouth, her nails digging into my back as she kisses me back with a passion that leaves me mindless with want for her.

My hips jerk forward, marking her, wanting her to feel me as much as I feel her.

“Oh, Jas…” she moans, her hips working with mine. “More.”

“More?” I smirk as I wrap my hand around her throat, squeezing.

“Mmmm,” she gasps, her mouth falling in an O as she grips my hand, nails digging into my skin.

“You want to be fucked by me, Pet?”

She nods.

“Choked by me?”

“Yes,” she manages to get out.

“Owned by me?”

Her head bobs up and down frantically.

I squeeze harder as I ram inside her with the urgency of a madman. I fuck her fast and out of control until she screams through her orgasm.

I don’t stop.

I loosen my grip around her neck and slow my pace until those tears rim her eyes again.

My little Petal always gets emotional whenever I fuck her slowly, taking my time with her body, and worshipping every inch of her.

She clutches me harder too as if afraid she’ll fall if I let her go.

If it were up to me, I’d never let her go. I’ll never let her leave my sights again.

She kisses me then, her lips brushing against mine before I open up and claim her.

“Jas...oh, Jas…” she moans my name over and over again.

I’m a goner.

My pace picks up, hitting her deep and hard in this position. She whimpers as I tease her clit with every thrust. Soon enough, she’s falling all over me again and again.

I bite her lower lip as I spill inside her, coating her with my cum — no, my seed.

We’re panting after as I continue holding her against me. I remove my hand from her neck and she sighs in delight as her head rests against my shoulder in a way where she looks up at me.

For a moment, she appears delighted, satisfied, and I stroke her cheek, then her collar.

Tears rim her eyes, and I can tell it’s not because she was fucked so good. I made her forget for a while, but it’s coming back to her.

She pulls away from me, grabbing a sheet on the way and wrapping it around her torso.

“Petal…” I reach out for her, but she wiggles free, not facing me.

All I see is her back and the sheet that’s covering her nakedness. “My father is gone.”

“I know that,” I say slowly.

“More like you planned it. You got what you wanted, Jas. Papa is dead.”

“Petal…”

“Am I wrong? Isn’t that what you wanted?” Her voice breaks. “After I finally found my father, I lost him again as if he were never there. None of this would’ve happened if you weren’t there.”

She goes silent as if realizing what she said.

As if it gutted her as hard as it gutted me.

She’s right. Even if I weren’t the one who personally ended Paolo’s life, I would’ve done it, and a part of me is glad he’s dead. A part of me feels triumphant that I got revenge for my family, for mom’s vacant eyes and the blood that marred her chest.

I reach for Petal, and this time she doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t face me either.

All the better.

I don’t think I can stare at her gray eyes and do this.

Finding the collar’s combination, I put it in and then it clicks open. A small sound leaves my little Petal’s mouth as the collar disconnects from her pale neck.

“You’re free, Pet,” I whisper against her neck.

And then, I’m gone.

24

GEORGINA

It’s scary how life can go on.

One moment, Dad is dead and the next, I’m the only Costa alive and I have to take care of the business.

One moment, I was alone in the world, then Jasper found me, and I found my dad, only for it to all disappear.

It’s been a few weeks since that bloody night, but I still can’t get it out of my head. I still have nightmares about it.

I’ve been forced out of grief too soon, though. Because people are after my family’s business, and I promised Dad I’d continue his legacy.

Enzo has stayed with me, and since he’s been working with my family since the beginning, it’s been going well for the most part.

I had a talk with him soon after the funeral and asked him if he wanted to talk business or grudges. If it was business, he would get a partner in me. If it was a grudge, then Dad and Lucio’s deaths should pay for any wrongful deeds they carried against his and Jasper’s family. Enzo shook my hand and said he’d help me if I gave him a few shares.

He has such a manipulative streak. It’s like he can’t get anything done unless he has some sort of benefit from it.

I reconnected with Dinah and Katya and offered them positions in Costa’s private clinics. They’ve been there for me when I told them some of what happened since I disappeared. They hugged me and consoled me.

I didn’t tell them about the pain I felt every night when I went to sleep. During the day, I act as the new Costa leader, putting rebels in place and trying to keep the power Dad entrusted to me, but at night, all the pain returns.

At night, I touch my neck and when I don’t find the collar, I cry in my pillow.

You’re free.

His words still echo like doom in my head. He didn’t only tell me I’m free but he also left. For Good.

Every day, I watch my surroundings, trying to see him or conjure him in people.

Every day, I resist the urge to ask Enzo about him. Is he eating well? Living well? Does he think about me as much as I think about him?

There’s so much pain between Jasper and me. So many grudges. So much family history and murders.

The loss of my father is still like a black hole inside me. I want to believe that time will heal it and that maybe I’ll wake up one day and forget, but I know that’s not the case.

However, all those feelings disappear when I dream of him, of his hands, of his damn touch.

His absence is an entirely different pain altogether. His absence makes me feel as if I’m Joseph again, all alone and with no one to help me.

Yes, I have the power, the money, the family name, but does it matter if he’s not here?

Before he left, Jasper sent me a gift. Phoebe — the stray black cat I used to feed on my way to the hospital. She’s grown now. The man who delivered her said he’s from a special animal shelter and they’ve been taking care of her for months.

Jasper made me the crazy cat lady he always said I am. Mrs. Hudson accepted her immediately, but Mr. Bingly is still wary of her.

“Do you go back to Sicily?” I ask Enzo after our legal teams leave the conference room.

He leans over in his chair and interlaces his hands on the table. “Why? You want something from there?”

I straighten in my chair and clear my throat. “I’m just asking about everyone there.”

“Salli and Francesco are fine. Angelo and everyone else, too. If that’s what you mean.” His mismatched green-gray eyes gleam with devious amusement as if he knows that’s not what I mean.

Fine. I’m done pretending I don’t want to hear about him.

“How is he doing?” I murmur.

“He?”

“You know. Stop playing with me,” I snap.

Enzo smiles. “Working, like you. Looking for potential spouses, like you.”

“I’m not looking for potential spouses. They keep pestering me to be the next Costa leader, and I always said no.” My voice lowers. “He’s looking for a wife?”

“Sicily is traditional, Costa. He needs a wife.”

I tell myself that Jasper isn’t the marrying type, but is that true? Maybe he’ll give in to fulfill his duties.

The idea of another woman sharing his bed, of him fucking her, owning her, and bringing her that type of pleasure makes my blood boil.

He told me I’m free, but am I? Really?

25

JASPER

Whoever said it’s easy to move on should get a bullet to the head.

No, that’s lenient, a knife, and not to the heart. They should die by a thousand cuts.

Time heals everything is the lie of all lies. It’s the fucking epitome of lies.

There’s no such thing as fucking healing. It’s an open wound that just keeps getting infected the more time passes.

That’s what’s been happening since I told my little Petal goodbye. For real. No stalking, no lingering about.

It’s been a couple of weeks since I returned to Sicily and took over the family. Now that no Costa threat looms in the distance, everyone was able to pick up their lives and start anew.

The lands have flourished and everyone is expecting a great season. The parties and drinking fests have been lively and full of food and laughter.

I stood there with them amidst all the joy and I felt none of it. I smiled with them and ate and drank, but I was dead inside.

Every time I walk into the house like now, I can almost see her ghost, smell her strawberry shit in the air.

But she’s not here.

It’s quiet, eerie even. There’s no trace of her slight humming or even of the fucking cats’ sounds. I never thought I would think about those two fuckers, but here we are.

Salli offers to make me coffee, but I tell her to call it a night and have fun with the others outside.

Angelo has brought Rebecca and her daughter, and he’s been taking care of the people here with me. No idea if he’ll marry Serrano’s widow, but from the way he made her apologize to me, I guess he intends to keep her here for some time.

Inside the bedroom, I throw my jacket on the chair and slump on the bed — the bed on which she slept.

Her scent has disappeared with time. Now, it’s only a mimicking of her ghost and emptiness.

Deep, raw emptiness.

There’s something about feeling so fucking hollow you’d do anything to erase it. I drank and slept and ran and worked, but nothing filled that hole.

Even with my duty toward the people here, nothing could erase the nagging need to take the first plane and go back to her side, or at least watch from afar.

But then what?

She’ll push me away again. She’ll always look at me and see someone who killed her father, took away her family, and I’m not ready to live seeing that look on her fucking face every day.

Enzo gives me updates about her, nothing too detailed so I don’t get too obsessed. He only told me that she took over Costa’s legitimate business and is trying to weed out everything else.

He’s helping her out, considering that he was Costa’s legitimate arm. He’s basically a line between the two of us, and while I’m glad she has him, it’s not...enough.

All I think about is this need for more...for fucking everything.

I want to touch her, kiss her, fuck her or just hold her.

Yes, I miss choking her and making her fantasies come true, but what I miss the most is as simple as those days she’d wrap her limbs around me and sleep in the crook of my body like that’s where she always belonged. She does.

I stand up and head to the balcony, lighting a cigarette on the way. The moment nicotine fills my lungs, I inhale deeply and close my eyes for the slightest bit.

Come on fucking time; it’s around the moment where all this should end, no?

For some reason, I’m not even sure it will.

For some reason, I know that I’ll be old and gray and she’ll still be the last face I see before I sleep and the first one I see when I wake up.

There will be no changing that no matter how much time I spend with others or how much that fucking Enzo tries to convince me to get married, settle down.

Fuck that and fuck him.

Marriage was never on my radar, and the only person I would’ve changed my mind for will never be mine again, at least not in the way I hope.

I slide into the chair by the table and bring out a scrap of paper I’ve been scribbling on for the past two days.

Maybe Enzo should take it on his next visit there.

Maybe this will end it all.

PETAL,

It’s been exactly forty-seven days and nineteen hours since we last said our goodbye.

I’m not a writer, and I never will be, so I’m not sure what’s gotten into me when I decided to write this to you. All I know is that something is perching on my chest and I need to purge it somehow.

Enzo has been telling me you’re doing well, and it makes me proud to see you taking everything in your hands. I knew you were strong.

I even knew it since you were little Joe with his chubby cheeks and girly habits of picking daisies.

I made you think you were annoying and a burden back then, but the truth is, you were the only one anchoring me to the world, and I was scared about losing you, so I pushed you sometimes and made you think you weren’t all that much.

Then, my worst nightmare came true and you left. You cried so hard that day as you hugged my legs, and I never forgot the way you buried your head against my stomach and refused to go with your new family. It made me feel shit I had no business feeling. It made me want to grab you and take you away.

Subconsciously, that thought remained with me even after we grew up. That’s why even before I recognized you, I wanted to keep you for myself, hide you for myself, and just be with you.

It’s an unhealthy obsession, I know, but aren’t all the best people flawed in some way? Aren’t we all imperfect somehow?

I know I am, because even after my vow to let you go, I can’t stop thinking about you, dreaming about you, and even your fucking cats. I hate that they have you and I don’t. I have issues, I know. Don’t tell my therapist when he starts existing.

Anyhow, this long-winded unnecessary letter is for the sole purpose of telling you that you matter even without a family; even without anything, you matter more than you’ll ever know.

You mattered since you were little Joe. You gave purpose to my life since you were a child and that only heightened when you grew up.

Now that you’re gone, my life has no meaning anymore.

I love you, my little Petal.

You’re the only one who made me feel like life can be more than killing and existing for my next dose of blood.

Don’t forget me and don’t even think about taking a husband or a boyfriend or any fucking human company. The cats are all I approve of.

Jasper

26

GEORGINA

My legs are shaking as I step into the dark house. It’s empty. I found Angelo outside, but he said everyone else is at a bonfire tonight.

I haven’t been able to stop shaking since I read Jasper’s letter that Enzo gave me. It wasn’t only the letter, but also the bouquet of daisies he sent with them.

The next thing I knew, I was on a plane and heading to Sicily.

All the way here, I’ve been re-reading the letter over and over again, trying not to cry and failing.

His words hit me so deeply. I was already missing him until I thought I was going crazy and then he had to write those words.

He had to rip my heart out. Or maybe it’s been ripped out since I left Sicily that day. Maybe my heart has stayed here since then.

I climb the stairs so fast; I nearly fall on my face.

When I reach the bedroom — our bedroom — I stop in front of the door to catch my breath.

I flew here in my pants suit. I tried freshening up in the plane, but the long flight and all the crying must make me look like a cat lady on drugs.

Inhaling deep, I push the door open. There’s soft light on in the room, but there’s no trace of him.

It’s rare for Jasper to miss the bonfires and festivals. He doesn’t really like them, but he always makes sure to be there for everyone else. Although he doesn’t say it out loud, Jasper considers everyone here a second chance given to him after losing his family.

My breath catches when I realize he didn’t change anything about the bedroom. Even the small pillows I brought in so the cats can play on are still here.

It’s almost as if I’m still here.

I’m about to check the balcony when I notice droplets of blood on the carpet, leading to the bathroom.

No.

No, no…

I let my bag fall to the floor and run toward the bathroom. “Jasper —”

My voice cuts off when I make out his form. He’s standing in front of the sink, wearing only pants and bandaging his hand in sloppy movements.

The moment I walk inside, he freezes and watches me with slightly widened eyes. “Petal? Are you real?”

I jog to him and clutch his hand in mine. “What happened? Are you okay?”

His good hand cradles my cheek and I stare up at him with tears blurring my vision. I stare at his handsome face, at those icy blue eyes and those lips.

God, I missed him. I missed him so much, it hurt.

“You are real,” he says with awe.

“What happened to your hand, Jasper?” I ask again, my throat closing.

“Nothing. It’s just a cut.”

I hit his shoulder, a sob escaping me. “You scared the shit out of me! I thought something happened to you after I’ve finally found you. I thought I was going to lose you. You can’t make me miss you to death, write me letters like that and then get hurt, okay? You just can’t.”

He places two fingers under my chin and lifts my head up so I’m staring at him. “Does that mean you came here to stay?”

“Do I even have a choice?” I place his half-bandaged hand on my heart. “This beats for you, Jasper. I love you so much; I can’t breathe without you.”

Pure joy explodes on his features as he palms my cheeks with his hands. “You won’t have to, Petal.”

“No?”

“No. Do you know why?”

“Why?” I murmur.

“Because you’re mine.”

“And you’re mine, Jasper.”

“That, I am.” And then his lips devour mine.

EPILOGUE - JASPER

TWO YEARS LATER

“You know what you’re going to do, Pet.” I hold her down with my hand around her throat.

“No, I don’t.”

I smirk. “Is that so, my filthy slut?”

She’s baiting me, wanting me to take it hard on her. That’s what my beautiful wife does when she wants to get fucked so thoroughly.

“No, Jas.”

“Are you my slut?”

“Your only slut.” She purrs. It’s our game, how we both get off.

My little Petal and I might be married, but we always get off on the depraved side of things. She still runs away and makes me chase her. She still wants to be tied to the bed as I fuck her in the ass. I still make her beg over and over again before shattering her world to pieces.

It’s not only a turn on; it’s a way of living. Still, I take her slow sometimes, worshipping her body over and over again until she falls asleep completely satiated.

Today, we have no time for our toys after a long day outside, working, and spending the night in the farmers’ fest, so I only get to use my hand.

I smack her ass, the slap echoing in the room, and she moans, clenching around my dick.

“More, Jas.”

“More?”

She nods frantically and sucks on my thumb when I place it at her lips.

I slap her three successive times, making her buck off the bed, but before she can come down off the burn, I fuck her hard and fast, squeezing her throat in the meantime.

“Jas…” She whimpers then shrieks when I hit that delicious spot inside her.

“I love you,” she chants, “I love you.”

I follow her then, filling her womb with my seed. One of these days, I’m putting a fucking baby inside her and tying her to me once and for fucking all.

The only reason I didn’t so far is because we’ve both been so busy.

Still inside her, I pull her up so she lies atop of me, her head resting on my chest.

She sighs with complete satisfaction as she runs her fingertips over my muscles. I lean over and place a kiss to her head. “Good girl.”

She moans at that, her smile widening.

It doesn’t matter how much time we spend together; my wife gets off on being called a good girl just like she gets off on being called a filthy slut. My own filthy slut.

In public, however, she’s my fucking queen. The woman of my life.

She’s still the Costa leader and I’m the Vitallio leader. Our partnership has opened many doors for both families. With Enzo’s help, the business has been flourishing.

Our time is spent between the States and Sicily, but we’re mostly here, in the wild and with the people — and even with her fucking cats, that became more annoying than ever. They’re three now, and my wife, being a certified cat lady keeps wanting to add more. “We have space,” she said. “Why not give more cats a home?”

“Because they take more of your time,” I told her and she just laughed at me.

She thinks I’m joking, but I’m not. I don’t like sharing her with those fucking demanding cats.

As long as I have Petal, nothing else matters.

Since that day my little Petal came to me, I promised to never leave her out of my sights, and I didn’t.

If we went to the States, we went together, and if we returned here, it’s together, too.

We can’t get enough of each other, and it’s not from the lack of trying.

“Jas…” she trails off.

“Hmm?”

She places a hand on my chest and leans her head on it. “I have something to tell you.”

“What?”

“Promise you won’t be mad.”

I narrow my eyes. “And why would you tell me something that will make me mad?”

The only time I’d get mad is if she talks about other men or goes near them. I still don’t fucking like it.

“Well, we talked about this before, but not in detail, you know…” she trails off.

“Just spit it out, Georgina.”

It’s her turn to narrow her eyes. “It’s Petal.”

I smile. “Fine, Pet.”

She nods. “There, much better.”

“Now, what is it?”

She bites her lower lip. “I’m pregnant.”

I pause. “Pregnant?”

“Yeah, you know. I’m carrying your baby. It happens when a man and a woman have sex and —”

I lean over and kiss her lips, cutting off her blabbering. “You’re carrying my baby?”

“I am. Are you happy?”

“Fuck.” Kiss. “Yes.”

“Really?”

“Is that a trick question? I’ve wanted to put a baby in you forever now. You’re the only woman I want to mother my children.”

Tears fill her eyes. “And you’re the only man I want as my children’s father.”

“You don’t have a choice in that.” I flip her over and she squeals.

“I love you, Jasper. I love you so much.”

“And I love you, Petal.”

She smiles as she wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me back.

THE END

Looking for your next dark read? Click here for All The Lies!

WHAT’S NEXT?

Thank you so much for reading He Hates Me Not! If you liked it, please leave a review!

Your support means the world to us.

ABOUT RINA KENT

Rina Kent is an international bestselling author of everything enemies to lovers romance.

Darkness is her playground, suspense is her best friend, and twists are her brain’s food. However, she likes to think she’s a romantic at heart in some way, so don’t kill her hopes just yet.

Her heroes are anti-heroes and villains because she was always the weirdo who fell in love with the guys no one roots for. Her books are sprinkled with a touch of mystery, a healthy dose of angst, a pinch of violence, and lots of intense passion.

Rina spends her private days in a peaceful town in North Africa daydreaming about the next plot idea or laughing like an evil mastermind when those ideas come together.

Don’t forget to Sign up to Rina Kent’s Newsletter for news about future releases and an exclusive gift.

Connect with Rina:

Website

Neswsletter

Reader Group

ALSO BY RINA KENT

TEAM ZERO SERIES

Lured

Crowed

Ghosted

Shadowed

Misted

Team Zero Boxset 1-3

THE RHODES SERIES

Remorse (FREE)

Ruin

ROYAL ELITE SERIES

Cruel King

Deviant King

Steel Princess

Twisted Kingdom

Black Knight

Vicious Prince

Ruthless Empire

LIES & TRUTHS DUET

All The Lies

All The Truths

HATE & LOVE DUET

He Hates Me

He Hates Me Not

ABOUT ISABELLA STARLING

USA Today bestselling author Isabella Starling describes her books with three words: dark, dirty and forbidden.

If you pick up a Starling book, you can count on a bad-mouthed, bossy man who will dominate his woman with a rough hand. Add just a sprinkle of taboo, a touch of BDSM and a pinch of suspense, and you're all set for a story you won't forget.

Like my Facebook page → https://www.facebook.com/authorisabellastarling/

Join my reader group on Facebook → https://www.facebook.com/groups/goodgirlslovebadboys/

Newsletter (get a FREE taboo novel when you join) → http://subscribepage.com/isabellastarling

ALSO BY ISABELLA STARLING

Writing as Isabella Starling (erotic romance): STANDALONES

Pet

Peep Show

Confess

His Brat

His Doll

His Muse

DADDY BOOKS

Teach me Daddy

Daddy's Girl

Daddy Dearest (FREE newsletter novel)

EMPIRE SIN

Wrath

Envy

PRINCESS AFTER DARK

Collaring Cinderella

Breaking Belle

CHRISTMAS NOVELLAS

Sugar Plum (cowritten with Jenika Snow)

Mistletoe Kisses (cowritten with Sam Mariano)

FALLEN DYNASTY (cowritten with Kelli Callahan)

Devil’s Captive

Devil’s Toy

Devil’s Sinner

Writing as Fawn Bailey (dark BDSM romance): ROSE & THORN

Blush Pink Rose (free newsletter prequel)

Blood Red Rose (book 1)

Pure White Rose (book 2)

Last Broken Rose

Precious Golden Rose (free newsletter bonus epilogue)

GILDED CAGE

Entrapment (free prequel)

Ensnarement (book 1)

Entanglement (book 2)

Enticement (book 3)

THE DAZZLING COURT

Rich Man's Toy (free prequel)

Dark Castle (book 1)

Wicked Prince (book 2)

STANDALONES

The Emperor

Writing as Betti Rosewood (new adult romance): LORDS OF WILDWOOD (standalone novels, light new adult)

Boys That Tease

Boys That Read

ELITE OF EDEN FALLS PREP (dark new adult bully romance)

A Hurt So Sweet Volume One

A Hurt So Sweet Volume Two

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Contents

Author Note

Blurb

Playlist

1. Jasper

2. Georgina

3. Jasper

4. Georgina

5. Jasper

6. Georgina

7. Jasper

8. Georgina

9. Jasper

10. Georgina

11. Jasper

12. Georgina

13. Jasper

14. Georgina

15. Jasper

16. Georgina

17. Jasper

18. Georgina

19. Jasper

20. Georgina

21. Jasper

22. Georgina

23. Jasper

24. Georgina

25. Jasper

26. Georgina

Epilogue - Jasper

What’s Next?

About Rina Kent

Also By Rina Kent

About Isabella Starling

Also By Isabella Starling