Chapter 12: The True Identity of Belle Rose

Belle Rose

“Ahhhhh!” I yell, jerking upright. My body is slick with sweat, still trembling from the nightmare.

It doesn’t matter which memory it is anymore, they’re all equally horrifying. Or so I thought.

But this one, this one chills me to the bone. It was buried deep in my mind, a place I hoped no one would ever reach. But recent events have dredged it up.

Hearing a name in a meeting. Seeing a name on paper. Speaking the name in my translations.

From what I can tell in Enzo’s meetings, he’s building connections with powerful men not just from New York but other major cities.

Boston, Chicago, San Diego, even Montreal... Preparing for a war. With the name I dreaded to hear. Moretti…

***

~His recklessness could be my salvation. There’s no one coming to save me. There’s no prince in my story, no knight in shining armor.~

~It’s just me, alone, with no one to help. If I can save myself, I should. This is my chance.~

~His gun is discarded on the counter, resting on a newspaper stained with a bit of blood. I can’t help but think, ‘soon it will be a lot of blood’.~

~Maybe this life has made me sick, like them. Maybe the darkness has caught up with me, and I’ve finally succumbed.~

~But the darkness is a part of me, it always will be, no matter what happens. It’s in my genes.~

~I pick up the gun with my shaking hands. I’ve never held one before; it’s heavier than I expected. I know I need to be quick, I never have much time.~

~I stiffen my body, hoping it will stop the shaking, and wrap my finger around the trigger, my left hand supporting my right as I aim.~

~Right at the back of his head. I need to make this shot. One shot to end it.~

~I pull the trigger. As I expected, blood splatters around the room, even into my mouth, leaving a metallic taste.~

~I want to vomit, but I push that feeling down, knowing what I had done was necessary.~

~I tuck the gun into my back pocket, terrified of fingerprints and the police and the blood.~

~I hear the door slam, the eyes in the back of my head, boring into me.~

~“What the fuck?!” a voice yells. “Christian!” Alfonso is back, and I know I need to get out, far away from here…~

***

I realize piercing dark eyes are drilling into the side of my head as I recover from my nightmare. I killed a man. I killed Christian Moretti. And it wasn't an accident. I wanted him dead.

I'm as twisted as all of these men, relishing the kill, enjoying watching the life fade from their eyes.

“What were you dreaming about?” he asks, his voice low and icy. I slowly turn my head towards him, my eyes widening at the sight of him. I try to hide my attraction by biting my lip, but there he is, a shirtless Enzo with only sweatpants hanging dangerously low. Every ab is clearly defined on his torso, every muscle in his arms bulging. One arm is covered in tattoos, adding to his dark allure.

He moves closer to me, settling on the edge of my bed next to me. He grips my jaw and pulls me closer, searching my eyes.

“What were you dreaming about, ~gattina~?” he whispers, his hot breath hitting my face. For some reason, it turns me on even more, maybe because I'm scared of him, and that fear intensifies every time he's near me, making me wet.

“It was just a nightmare,” I tell him innocently.

“Hmm, ~gattina~, I asked what it was about,” he says, squeezing my jaw harder and digging his fingers in. I'm used to it now, but it still hurts. “You woke me up, neonata, so you're gonna tell me why.”

“Steve. It was about my neighbor,” I lie, hoping he'll believe me. He watches my face, every single movement or twitch.

“You're a good liar, I'll give you that. But you don't want to lie to me, Belle,” he growls, pulling me closer with his other arm. “Tell me the truth.”

“You,” I blurt out, again hoping to be convincing. “I was dreaming about you.”

“What about me?”

“I don't know. I was just dreaming,” I plead, but he brings his face even closer to mine, his lips gently brushing mine.

“Tell me,” he demands.

“You were killing Steve. Torturing him,” I mumble.

“That bothers you? What you think I did?” he asks, his gaze intense. I nod slowly in his grip, furrowing my eyebrows at his unreadable expression. “It's early. Come with me.” He releases my jaw and takes my hand instead, pulling me out of my bed and into the next room, his room.

It's different from mine, with walls painted grey, the whole room themed in shades of grey, black and white. When he leads me to his bed, I start to worry about his intentions.

He senses my tension but continues on whatever path he's leading me down. He pulls back the covers and gestures for me to get in. I hesitate, standing wide-eyed in front of him.

“Get into the bed, ~gattina~,” he commands in a warning tone.

“Why?” I ask timidly. He then just pushes me onto the bed and climbs in next to me.

“I'm getting tired of you questioning me, ~bambina~,” he whispers in my ear. “You're asking for punishment.” A whimper escapes me as I hear his words and feel his hands on my body. But those hands comfort me, soothe me. “Are you?”

“No,” I mumble. We lay there with him spooning me, his arm around my waist holding me in place. His chin rests just above my head, his size still trapping me.

“From now on, you’re sleeping here,” he declares, his voice firm. I can tell he’s daring me to argue. So I keep my mouth shut.

“Why?” I blurt out, unable to stop myself from questioning him again. It’s not so much his words, but the tone he uses that tells me I should stop. But why can’t I?

I feel him laugh, a dry chuckle that vibrates against my neck. His hands move from my waist to my breasts, kneading them over my clothes.

I stifle a moan, not wanting him to stop. My breath quickens, my nipples harden under his touch. I can feel his smirk against my skin.

His hands slip under my tank top, returning to my breasts. This time, I can’t hold back a soft moan.

“Sleep,” he orders, his hands still on me, giving an occasional squeeze as he drifts off. I follow suit, lulled by the rhythm of his breathing and heartbeat...

***

~“Where are you, you little slut?” Alfonso’s voice echoes through the house. He knows.~

~He must have seen me. He won’t stop until I’m dead, just like Christian, his beloved brother.~

~I have to get out of here, disappear. I’ll change my name, live in the shadows. I wanted a normal life, but I knew it was just a dream. But at least now, I could be free.~

~I bolt for the door, but I’m caught around the waist, pulled back against a hard chest.~

~“Little girl, we’ve been looking for you,” Adriano hisses in my ear, dragging me back towards the house. He’s Alfonso’s right-hand man.~

~“Please, let me go,” I plead, digging my heels into the gravel. “Please!” I struggle against his grip, but it’s useless.~

~I knew it was hopeless from the start. Why did I even try? “Please, Adriano. I’m begging you, let me go. He’ll kill me.”~

~“Maybe you shouldn’t have killed daddy then,” he growls, but he stops, holding me up. Why did he stop? Is he going to kill me now?~

~“Isabella...” His grip loosens, and I take off running. Why did he let me go? We were on good terms once. He even helped me after my father’s beatings.~

~But he was always loyal to Alfonso. I thought he’d be loyal to the end. But he let me go.~

~I run from the house, from everything I know. I run until I can’t run anymore. I have nothing. No money, no clothes, no food, no shelter. I’m alone.~

~After hours of running, I slow down, trying to figure out where I am. I bump into a man, a young man in his early twenties. He steadies me, smiling as he holds me by the waist.~

~“Sorry,” I mumble, forcing a smile to make it seem like everything is normal.~

~“Hi, I’m Jeremy. People call me J. Are you okay?”~

~“Yes, I am. My name’s I-Belle. My name’s Belle. I’m just... a little lost.”~

~“That’s okay. I can help.”~

~J helps me find my first apartment and gets me a job at his diner, saying they need another waitress.~

~I thought things were looking up, but after moving from one apartment to another, I realize this is as good as it gets for me. Just being free from my father is enough.~

~The guilt of killing my father will always haunt me. I changed my name to Belle Rose from Isabella Moretti.~