Page 98 of Forgive Me, Father

THE WHITE RABBIT

After that,sex was on another level.She jumped me everywhere and my guards just had to scram whenever they saw her rushing over to me.She was a beautiful, chaotic mess—but she wasmymess.And whatever this was, whatever fire she was chasing in the dark, she needed it like air.

The dungeon, it wasn’t occasional anymore.It had become part of us, woven into the rhythm of our lives, like a secret ritual neither of us dared to name.

It was our fuck pad now.She let me do to her whatever the fuck I wanted and after we took a shower, I would bandage her up, and we’d pass out on the bed.

A little cutting and bleeding every night spoiled the darkness inside of me and Camilla became my everything.

Saturday came, and we had to get ready for Nonna’s eighty-second birthday.She hadn’t shown her face in over a year, so this was a big deal—at least to the rest of the family.I knew my aunt would hover like a warden, already plotting to lock her away again, too scared of the world getting its claws into her.But me?I wasn’t worried.Nonna was sharper than all of us.She was safe.She was exactly where she wanted to be—far from the chaos the rest of us were still drowning in.

Then Camilla stepped into the room, and for a moment, the noise in my head quieted.She wore a short dress that hugged her legs like a second skin, heels that made her walk with purpose, and her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail that showed off every angle of her jaw.Her makeup was flawless—controlled, elegant, like armor.

She looked like she belonged at my side.Like she knew exactly how powerful she was.

My runaway was beautiful, all 5,2 of her.She clutched my hand as I parked my Lambo by my father’s front porch.There were plenty of valets ready to park the cars at the back.

She took a deep breath, and I smiled.

“Get your cute ass out of my car.”

She smiled and the door opened.Roberto, the fucking idiot, was charming her with that fucked up personality of his.

He spoke Italian.

“Grazie,” she replied, and we both burst out laughing.

“Not a grazie moment?”she asked me.

“No, not when it’s from this dickhead.Roberto, this is my bride, Camilla.”

“She is much more beautiful than Simi,” he said in Italian.

“A lot more class too,” I replied in English, giving him a look.

I had already made sure everyone was aware that Camilla was still learning Italian and they needed to speak English when talking to her.

“So, sister-in-law, what is your biggest wish?”He grabbed her hand and hooked it into his arm.

“You are very different from Fiona.”

“You met Fiona?”Roberto asked.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Poor baby.”He patted her hand.

“Easy,” I growled at my brother.

“I’m just making her feel at home, brother.”

My mother’s sharp voice cut through the air the moment we stepped inside, echoing from the patio door like a warning bell.She was always loud when she was excited to see me, too loud, but this time, the warmth faded fast.

She kissed my cheek, then stopped cold the second her eyes landed on Camilla.

“You broughther.”Spoken in clipped Italian, thick with disapproval.Of course, she’d make this difficult.

“She’s mywife, Mother.Of course, I brought her.”