Page 39 of Forgive Me, Father

She pulled me aside, wanting to know what had really happened.I lied, of course, but she saw right through me.

She told me she could help.Saying I wasn’t curious would be a lie.With Sarah, a whole new world opened up as we began to trust each other.

She had a dark past.I didn’t know all the details, just that her mother had owed money to dangerous men, and Sarah was their collateral.She was barely thirteen when it happened, fucked her up big time.I could tell what she’d been through was more than just physical.But she refused to say anything more.

Sarah needed the pain, the more, the better.It was what her darkness craved.The exact opposite of mine.

She introduced me to tools, things you can find easily online at any BDSM shop.But what we did was anything but BDSM.

BDSM came with rules, with safe words.

But we had none of that, no safe words, no rules, not even aftercare.Sarah didn’t need it.Her pain was her care.She needed it to survive, just like I needed to inflict it to cope.I think it was why she became a nurse.

She gave me her body to do with as I pleased.It was my canvas, and the masterpieces we created together were art.

It tamed both our demons, both our darkness.

Ninety percent of the time it ended with fucking.Mind blowing fucking, and it was enough to seal the lid, at least until the next time.

I’d be okay for two, maybe three weeks, before I’d have to lock the box shut again.

It was something that I had to get my new bride to accept, to look the other way, the way Simi would.She had to, she had no choice.

* * *

I felt like a new man as I glanced down at my watch.

One more hour to pull myself together before facing the DeLucas, and whatever judgment my father and the elders had waiting for me.

“You think she’d be okay with this?”Sarah asked.

“Right now, she hates my guts, so… I don’t know.But I’ll find a way to make her understand.”

“When will I see you again?”

“Probably in two weeks.”

“Am I coming to you, or are you coming here?”

“I’ll let you know.”

I gave her a small smile and walked out.

What we had wasn’t love, it was survival.And it was something I’d always need.

The driver waited for me in front of Sarah’s building.A tall man in a pressed suit standing beside the black SUV like a statue.I nodded at him and climbed into the back, the scent of cold leather and faint cologne wrapping around me like an old coat.I didn’t bother with small talk.

The drive back home took just under an hour, long enough for my mind to wander back to everything I didn’t want to think about.I hoped I’d have time to see Nonna.She always had a way of cutting through the noise.Sharp tongue, sharper wisdom.And I was still her favorite, no matter how many cousins swore otherwise.

Then, just past the curve in the hill road, it came into view.

My father’s house, our family’s stronghold, stood like a beast carved from stone and shadow.The mansion sat atop the hill, silent and domineering, like it had been watching the valley for centuries.Three stories of sun-kissed limestone and deep terracotta roof tiles, the kind that turned blood-red at dusk.The façade was a blend of old Roman lines and Baroque detail, arched windows with dark shutters, hand-forged wrought iron balconies, and marble statues that lined the path like silent sentinels.

The central courtyard was paved in cracked granite, the same one I used to tear across on my bike as a kid, before someone always yelled that I was being too loud.Vines of wild ivy clawed up the south wing, wrapping around columns that stood stubborn against time.The front doors, double oak, scorched with sun and age, still bore the family crest, carved deep in the wood like a warning and a welcome all at once.

Inside, I knew the floors would gleam black and white, cold marble echoing under every step.Chandeliers like frozen rain would still hang from vaulted ceilings, and oil paintings of men who looked like me but never smiled, watching my every move.

I leaned back in the seat, watching the mansion grow larger in the windshield.Bigger.Heavier.Just like the weight on my shoulders.