Page 10

Penelope

I slam the apartment door shut, my hands shaking as I twist the lock.

It’s been days since Adriano pinned me to his desk and licked me until I couldn’t breathe right.

I was a mess then, and I still am. My skin hummed every time I thought about it.

How his rough beard scraped my thighs, and his tongue claimed me like I was his to ruin.

I wanted to purge it from me, that ache that wouldn’t quit.

He lodged himself in my head, and I hated it.

Work didn’t help. He’d kept his distance, but I spotted him the very next day in the hallway at Caruso’s.

He strutted by in that sharp suit, with eyes even sharper, and brushed past me like I was a ghost. Cold as hell.

Didn’t even glance my way. Fine. If he was done, I told myself I was too.

Except I wasn’t. I burned alive, and he held the match.

“You look like you could use a refill already,” he said, nodding at my cup.

My lips curled up and I stirred slower. “What, you a barista?”

“Nah, just good at spotting someone who needs a pick-me-up.” He leaned on the counter, easy, relaxed. “I’m Theo.”

“Penelope.” I sipped my coffee, eyeing him. He wasn’t Adriano—nowhere near that raw edge—but maybe that was the point. Maybe I needed someone who didn’t make my pulse feel like a fistfight.

We talked. He was chatty, funny even, tossing out stories about coding glitches and late-night pizza runs. It felt light. Normal. By the time I finished my drink, he asked me out.

“Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow. Nothing fancy, just food and decent company.”

“I can’t. I’m going to see my sister.”

“But you’re free eventually, right?”

“Sure,” I said, shrugging. “Why not?”

Big mistake.

***

Today, I’m meeting up with him and the dinner’s fine at first. We hit a diner and get greasy burgers, sticky tables, and the buzz of Friday night chatter.

Theo’s still talking, his hands waving as he rants about one of his apps crashing.

I nod, half-listening and picking at my fries.

He’s nice. Too nice, maybe. But it’s better than sitting home and replaying Adriano’s hands on Me like a broken record.

“Wanna head back to your place?” Theo asks, wiping ketchup off his lip with his sleeve. His grin is cocky. He’s too sure of himself, like he’s already mentally kicking his shoes off at my door.

I stop short, my sneakers scuffing the pavement as we step out and clutch my purse tighter. “No,” I say, sharp enough to cut glass. “Let’s just call it a night.”

He laughs, a little too loud, stepping closer with his hands raised.

“Come on, Penelope. Movie night at your place will be the continuation of an already great evening. I’ll even let you pick the cheesiest rom-com.

I won’t make a move, scout’s honor.” He beams and wiggles his fingers like a kid swearing an oath.

“Unless you count me stealing your popcorn as a felony.”

I bite my lip, fighting a grudging smile. He’s an idiot—goofy in a way Adriano never is, and tonight, I need that. Anything to drown out the echo of leather and smoke still clogging my head.

“Fine,” I sigh, rolling my eyes. “Just a movie. No funny business, or I’m tossing you out faster than you can say ‘popcorn bandit.’”

“Deal.” He grins wider, practically bouncing, and nudges me forward like he’s won the lottery.

We walk the three blocks to my house, and my streetlights flicker overhead. The night’s breeze is thick and humid, sticking my shirt to my back. He’s close and more than once, his arm brushes mine. But I don’t pull away.

Inside, I flick on the kitchen light, then kick off my sneakers.

“Want a drink?” I head for the fridge, grabbing a beer.

“Sure.” He’s right behind me and I notice his voice drop. “But I’d rather have you.”

I freeze with the bottle in hand. Then turn slowly to find he’s grinning, but it’s sharper now, hungrier.

“Chill, Theo. That’s not happening.”

“C’mon, Pen.” He steps in and his hands snake to my waist. “Don’t tease me.”

I shove him off, hard. “I said no.”

He grabs me again, fingers digging into my arms. I twist, heart slamming, but he’s stronger and he is yanking me back. “Stop playing hard to get,” he growls, his breath hot on my face.

“Let go!” I swing, my fist clipping his jaw.

He staggers but recovers fast and shoves me against the counter.

My hip bangs the edge, and pain shoots up my side.

I kick then scratch, anything to break free but panic buzzes loud in my skull.

His hands are everywhere. And the sudden realization that I’m trapped manifests, and the room shrinks around me with the walls pressing in.

“You don’t get it,” he snarls, eyes wild. “My dad wanted you dead. Said you’re tied to Vieri. But I liked you, Pen. Fell for you. And now you won’t even fuck me?”

“What?” My brain scrambles, confusion tangling with fear. Dead? Vieri? His words don’t make much sense, but there’s no time to unpack it. He’s shoving harder, then one of his hands is tearing at my shirt and the other clamping my throat. I thrash, gasping and my nails rake his arm.

That’s when the door explodes open. The wood cracks, splinters flying around. Adriano storms in with a baseball bat clutched tight. Theo doesn’t even turn before the first swing lands and crunches into his shoulder. He howls as he collapses.

Adriano swings again, going for his ribs, this time a sickening snap echoing. Theo’s a heap now, groaning, but Adriano keeps going. The bat keeps slamming down, precise and brutal, like he’s carving meat. Blood pools, thick and red, soaking my floor.

“Enough, Adriano!” I scream. Adriano freezes, the bat mid-air and he’s breathing loudly. Theo’s barely alive and wheezing, his face a mess of purple and crimson.

Adriano drops the bat with a thud and the silence crashes in, heavy as lead. My hands tremble and I smear blood on my jeans as I wipe them. Adriano’s staring at me with a speck of red on his cheek, gray eyes blazing. I’m shaking—pissed, scared, and thankful. It’s all twisted up.

“You okay?” His voice cuts through, low and rough.

“Yeah. Maybe.” I cross my arms, forcing my breath steady. “How’d you get here so fast?”

“Was close by.” He shrugs and grabs a rag from the counter, then wipes the bat.

“I see.” I step toward him. “So you just happened to be outside?”

“Yeah, I was around the area. I had to check something.” He doesn’t look at me and scrubs harder.

“Check what? Me?” My voice climbs. “Tell me the damn truth, Adriano.”

He stops and his shoulders stiff. “I did it for you. That’s it.”

“That’s not enough!” I grab his arm, my fingers digging in. He flinches but stays put. “How’d you know he was here? How’d you know I needed you?”

“I just did.” His eyes lock on mine, hard and unreadable.

“Stop dodging!” I’m yelling now, shoving him. He doesn’t budge, like a damn wall. “What’s going on?”

He steps closer, towering over me. “You’re alive because of me. That’s what counts.”

I laugh. “Alive? You smashed a guy to pieces in my kitchen!”

“Would’ve been worse if I didn’t.” His voice drops, dark as tar. “You don’t get it, Penelope. Guys like him don’t quit.”

“And you do?” I push him again, uselessly. “You think you’re my savior now?”

“No.” He snags my wrists and holds me tightly. “I’m the bastard who keeps you standing.”

I pull free and stumble back. My head’s spinning, a storm of too much. “I don’t even know what we are,” I spit, voice cracking. “You lick me senseless one day, freeze me out the next, then show up swinging a bat like some psycho knight. What the hell is this?”

He steps in, pushing me against the wall, his body and pinning me there. His weight is crushing, all muscle and heat.

“I’ve been fighting myself raw, Pen. Trying to do right by you—by her.

” His voice cracks, just a tremor. “Sophia’s ghost has been at my throat every fucking day, and you’re like gasoline on the fire.

I can’t stop thinking about your cunt, how you taste.

I’ve jerked off to you so many times that my hand is raw from picturing you spread out, screaming my name. ”

“Then stop!” I shove him, tears stinging hot in my eyes. “We can kill this before it buries us. We’re choking on guilt, so let’s fucking end it!”

“No.” His hands crash against the wall, framing my head and trapping me. “I’ve had my tongue inside you, felt you explode on it. You’re burned into my fucking soul now, Pen. I’m not letting you go. I can’t.”

My breath snags. He’s too damn close, leather and smoke choking my lungs, his scent sinking into me.

His hand drops, rough fingers shoving up my skirt, ripping past my panties to find me soaked—fuck, I’m drenched—and I hate how my body screams for him.

He drives two fingers deep, curling them hard into that spot that makes me see white, and I gasp, fisting his shirt.

“Adriano—” My voice breaks, and my hips jerk into his touch before I can stop them.

“Feel that?” he growls, his thumb dragging slow, torturous circles over my clit.

“You’re fucking gushing for me. Lie to yourself all you want, but this pussy’s begging.

” His free hand snatches mine, then forces it down to his jeans where his cock is throbbing, already thick and hard as iron.

“Touch me. Wrap your hand around me now, sweetheart.”

I shouldn’t. I should poke his eyes out, scream, anything but this.

But my fingers tremble, fumbling, and then I’m stroking him through the denim, feeling him pulse in my hands.

He groans, deep and feral, rocking into my hand.

We’re grinding against each other, desperately with Theo’s bleeding body still sprawled nearby, his blood pooling slick under my boots.

It’s fucked up, twisted as hell, and I’m drowning in it, heat twisting tight and low.

“Say it,” he rasps, his fingers pumping faster, slick and relentless. “You want me.”

“No,” I spit, but my hips grind harder, chasing his hand.