Page 29 of Forgive Me, Father (Don #1)
TWENTY-SIX
THE WHITE RABBIT
I stayed away from Camilla tonight. Sarah had texted me a few times, even called me, and I spoke in Italian. I told her tomorrow. Camilla was still struggling with the idea and I needed her consent.
“You really love her, don’t you?” she asked me.
“Love is not enough.” The words seemed inadequate to explain what I felt.
“You think it would help if she met me?”
“I’ll ask, but I doubt it.” Actually, I knew it would just piss the little runaway off.
“I’ll do anything for her to be onboard, Alfonso.”
“I know you will. I’ll phone you tomorrow with the time.”
“Okay, speak to you later.”
The call cut off, and I headed to the spare bedroom to take a shower, hoping the water would wash the day from my mind.
But I couldn’t shake the image of her, curled into my arms this morning, crying like the world had already ended.
It shattered something in me.
The way she clung to me, the sheer relief in her touch. It told me everything. A part of her had already believed I was gone.
I was going to lose her if I continued to meet with Sarah.
The next morning, I already had three missed calls from Sarah. She needed the pain, and I knew the last time I saw her was cut short due to Simi telling Camilla the truth of why we were there.
Normally, I would fly Sarah in for two days, do what we both needed, and she would be on her way.
I was a fool to think I could keep the dungeon, and Sarah, a secret from Camilla once we were home.
I got dressed, my mind racing, knowing I needed to weigh today carefully before giving Sarah any kind of answer.
When I stepped out, I was surprised to find Camilla already up and dressed.
She rose from her seat at the breakfast table and, without a word, walked over and kissed me.
“Are you going somewhere?” I asked.
“Yes, I need you to come with me.”
“Camilla.”
“Humor me, okay?”
I nodded.
“But first, eat.” She sat back down, calm and composed, while I pulled out the chair beside her.
The longer she delayed this conversation, the darker the storm inside me grew, and the harder it would be for both of us in the end.
Some lessons, I knew, she was only going to learn the hard way.
* * *
We took a boat to shore, leaving the yacht docked just beyond the shoreline. The wind tugged at her hair as her hand found mine, and didn’t let go.
A sleek black SUV was already waiting at the dock, its engine humming softly. Nico slid into the driver’s seat without a word, and we climbed into the back.
Camilla didn’t waste any time. She mounted herself on top of me. I growled at her. This wasn’t enough, no matter how badly I wanted it to be.
Her hips were already moving and my demon threatened to tear her apart. Hurt her badly because she doesn’t fucking listen.
I spoke.
“I don’t understand Italian,” she whispered.
I swallowed hard and tears blurred my sight. “Why are you making this so difficult?”
“I’m not, you are.”
I shook my head, trying to clear it, my eyes drifting to the road we were on. I knew where we were heading.
“Camilla!”
She reached over, gently taking my chin and turning my face back to hers.
“Look at me. I can do this. You just need to give me time. But if you go to Sarah, I can’t, Alfonso. I’m not built that way. You will lose me.”
Tears blurred my sight. My heart thumped faster. “I know.”
“You wanted that?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I don’t care.”
“Stop saying that.”
“It’s the truth,” she said softly. “When I signed that contract, I thought it was just business. I never imagined I’d feel this way about you. The way you need the dungeon, that’s how much I need you. Only you.”
She leaned in, her lips capturing mine in a kiss that stole the air from my lungs, deep, fierce, and full of everything we hadn't said. A single tear slipped down my cheek as reality settled in. I knew exactly where Nico was taking us.
Some place similar to my dungeon.
She was breaking me little by little, and I prayed that my darkness would find a way for her to be okay.
THE LITTLE RUNAWAY
I could only hope Alfonso understood what I was trying to say during the drive.
My heart pounded in my chest like a bird trapped in a cage, wild, desperate, and terrified.
I wasn’t entirely sure I’d survive this, at least not emotionally.
But one thing I knew with certainty: watching him get what he needed from Sarah would’ve destroyed me.
Nico pulled up in front of a dark, gothic building. The wrought iron sign above the arched entrance bore an elegant Italian name. One look, and I knew we had arrived. This was the place.
We got out and I followed Alfonso inside. The moment we stepped through its doors, the air shifted. Warm, perfumed, and hushed, like stepping into a velvet-draped secret.
Alfonso’s hand gripped mine a little tighter, and I didn’t let go.
The entrance hall was decadent without being ostentatious, walls swathed in wine-colored velvet, lit by the soft glow of sconces shaped like antique lanterns. A low hum of music drifted from somewhere deeper within, something jazzy, slow, seductive.
Alfonso walked up to the reception and made the arrangements as Nico took a seat in the lush leather chairs.
The arrangements didn’t take long and Alfonso came back.
He sighed. “You sure about this?”
I nodded. Even though my heart was beating rapidly behind my ribcage.
A woman, striking and poised in a fitted black dress, greeted us with a nod; neither a smile nor a frown.
Just the kind of practiced neutrality that told you everything and nothing at once.
I signed a few consent forms, something that Nico told me was the norm.
I passed the forms back to her and it was only Alfonso now that has to sign his.
He gave me that look. The one that tells me he did not want to do this, but then he took a deep breath, got up and walked over.
He left his million dollar hand signature on all the places and fill in a few details that was asked, before passing the form to the receptionist.
We followed her and moved past a pair of double doors framed in polished mahogany, the glass etched with vines with the faintest glimpse of movement on the other side.
The floor beneath us was black marble, veined with gold. Our steps echoed, muffled only by the heavy velvet drapes that lined the hallway. Every detail screamed exclusivity, discretion. Power, cloaked in elegance.
Alfonso’s warm hand wrapped around mine and he squeezed. I knew he was dreading this. But it would be okay.
We passed open doors revealing glimpses of themed salons. One was filled with silver and white, a chaise longue posed like an invitation under a cascade of crystal. Another held deeper shadows, red leather, a flicker of candlelight, and the faint scent of sandalwood.
And then, we reached the end of the hallway.
A door, black, high gloss, without a handle. Just a silver plaque inscribed with a single word in Italian. Alfonso stopped.
My breath tightened in my chest but I worked hard to project the opposite.
My body leaned subtly toward him, as if some instinct told me the threshold we were about to cross would change us both.
The woman spoke in Italian, and I looked at Alfonso.
“Get dressed in the robe. You will find a door, go through it and wait for me.”
I nodded, and he started to turn away, but I reached for his hand and pulled him back to me. Without a word, I kissed him, slow, steady, and grounding. A promise more than anything.
I knew this was hard for him. It was written in the tightness of his jaw, the way his breath caught just before he let go. But he would be okay. He just needed to see that I was.
And I was, because he needed me to be.
The kiss broke. He gave me a slight smile and disappeared into the other room.
I closed the door behind me and got undressed.
A luxurious dark blue satin robe hung gracefully from the hook, and I slipped it over my naked body, the fabric smooth against my skin. I cinched it at the waist, the soft tie securing me within its embrace. Taking a deep breath, I crossed the room toward the door.
It was ajar, and as I pushed it open, I was greeted by a sight that could have been pulled from the silver screen.
In the center of the room stood a massive wooden X, its dark surface gleaming under the dim light. My gaze immediately settled on the buckles, and it didn’t take long for me to piece it together. The two at the top were clearly meant for wrists, and the two at the bottom, for ankles.
I exhaled slowly, my heart racing as the reality of the situation hit me.
I quickly tied my hair back into a ponytail, trying to steady my breath. I needed to process what I was seeing, every inch of it. But above all, I had to trust Alfonso. He knew what he was doing, even if I wasn’t sure what to expect next.
The door creaked open, and Alfonso stepped through.
He had swapped his sweater for a sleek black shirt, his black chinos still perfectly in place.
His presence filled the room, and without a word, he moved toward me.
Gently cupping my face in his hands, he lowered his lips to mine, pressing a slow, deep kiss that sent a wave of warmth through me.
His kiss was intense, passionate, a promise and a hunger all at once.
“Just how out of control are you?” I asked.
“If you want to stop, we can go.”
“No, I’m doing this. I give you consent to do with me whatever you want.”
“Camilla.”
“I’m enough, Alfonso. Just do what you need to do.” I touched his cheek. “Where do you need me?”
“You need a safe word first.”
“I don’t want one.”
“Camilla!”
“I said I. Don’t. Want. One. I trust you.”