Chapter 8: We all have our demons

Belle Rose

“~Non posso crederci che ci ha fottuto così~ (I can’t believe he screwed us over like that),” one of the men grumbles as I step into the room, setting the food in front of each of them. It’s an intimate dinner meeting, with only ten men present, and Enzo at the head of the table. I can feel his gaze tracking my every move, but I keep my eyes down, focusing on my task.

“~Da quando è morto suo fratello~ (ever since his brother died),” another man adds. I think they’re comfortable speaking freely because they assume I can’t understand, or maybe they just don’t care. Enzo never asked, so I’m not lying.

“~Uccisero~ (killed),” Enzo corrects, drawing all their attention. I keep my gaze on the food. Who are they talking about? “~Moretti è stato ucciso~ (Moretti was killed).” I close my eyes briefly, knowing they would widen at the name. Moretti? I keep my composure, finishing up. But then Enzo grabs my hand and pulls me onto his lap.

“~Scopare il suo più tardi, fratello~ (fuck her later, brother),” Luca chuckles, earning a glare from Enzo. He gives me a squeeze before releasing me. I carry the tray back to the kitchen, taking a deep breath as I lean against the sink.

“You okay?” Sofia asks, and I give her a small nod before helping her clean up. “Do you have anyone you miss?” she asks, trying to make conversation.

“No, not really,” I reply. “You?”

“My parents work in a restaurant owned by the Calabrias. I worked there too, until the brothers came in during one of my shifts and took a liking to me. So now I work here.”

“What about your parents?” I ask.

“They're okay. They still work there. My parents tried to keep me off the shifts when the Calabrias came in. But that day, they were caught off guard and I was already on the floor. They tried to stop them from taking me, but it was too late.”

“I'm sorry,” I say quietly.

“It's not all bad. I have a bed, food, a roof over my head. I don't have to worry about finding a good-paying job. I'm twenty-six. I would probably be living in a crappy apartment with a lazy boyfriend who does nothing, too tired to kick him out,” she says with a small laugh. “How old are you?”

“I'm twenty.” She raises her eyebrows at me but then nods.

“You want to go to college?”

“I never went to high school.”

“Why?”

“My dad. He didn't let me. He liked to control everything and he was very protective of me,” I answer, folding some more clothes.

“He's not missing you now?”

“No, he's dead.”

“I'm sorry, Belle. That must be tough,” she replies, giving me a sympathetic look. I just nod and look back down at the folded clothes. It's not tough. Not at all. I'm free of that burden. But it doesn't help me now. It might even hold me back in the future.

“You two. You can go now,” Marissa orders, waving us out of the laundry room. We walk together, hurrying up the stairs, hoping none of the guys will stop us, and head to the staff quarters. All the girls' rooms are next to each other and connected, so Sofia comes into mine, sitting on my bed and brushing her hair. I sit down next to her, sighing and changing into my night clothes.

“How did you get those scars?” she asks, studying my back and torso before I can put my tank top on. I quickly pull it on to cover myself and let my hair down from the ponytail.

“I lived in a rough neighborhood,” I reply casually. She just nods sympathetically.

After a while, she heads to her room and I crawl into bed, pulling the sheets over me. My eyelids start to feel heavy as I curl up, and soon I fall asleep...

***

~“I have secrets,” I whisper to Enzo as he kisses my cheek. We're lying in each other’s arms, basking in our shared warmth.~

~“We all do,” Enzo replies, his hands cupping my ass as he usually does, earning a groan from me. “I'll always want you, gattina.”~

~“You won't want me after I tell you.” He crashes his lips onto mine, backing me up against the wall and lifting me by my thighs to wrap my legs around his hips. I can feel his hard arousal pressing into me, making me wetter.~

~“I want to take you,” he says and thrusts into me, making me cry out, not in pain, but in pleasure.~

~He's so big that he fills me up completely, almost making me feel as though I'll break in two, but he feels too perfect inside of me.~

~He starts to move, thrusting into me slowly and deeply. He hits all the right spots, making me throw my head back in ecstasy. “You want me?”~

~“Yes,” I breathe out, pressing myself into him more to get him deeper inside me. I moan into his neck, clutching his shoulders for dear life.~

~As I reach a climax like I've never felt before, I shatter around him and he catches me in his arms. He lays me down on his bed and lulls me to sleep…~

***

I had a sex dream about Enzo? Oh my God. Oh my God. He's a monster, I shouldn't be thinking like this. He kidnapped me. They all rape girls. They're just like every guy I've ever been with.

Enzo is no different. But the other girls were surprised he hadn't done anything yet. He's just groped me a few times, but in a possessive, intense way that turned me on.

I must be messed up if I find myself drawn to a man like him, the kind who’s been using and hurting me my whole life. I must be out of my mind.

It’s the crack of dawn, when everyone else is still asleep, so I slip into my usual clothes and tiptoe downstairs. Once I reach the kitchen, I start wiping down the counters again, a habit I’ve picked up to cope with my anxiety.

It was a useful habit in all those grimy apartments I used to live in. They were always dirty, thanks to the environment.

Leaves would blow in with the wind, rats would leave their droppings, pipes would leak.

I scrub until my arms are sore, but I keep going, cleaning a surface that’s already spotless.

The anxiety grips me, my heart pounding like a drum, my breaths short and quick, a dull ache in my stomach.

I try to take deeper breaths, but the fact that I can’t only makes me panic more.

Suddenly, I feel someone’s hands on mine and a voice telling me to breathe. He breathes with me, in and out, but his presence only heightens my panic.

I realize it’s Ranger and his presence doesn’t help my panic attack. So I start my list.

“Cupcakes with just the right frosting... piano music filling the air... the orange glow of a sunrise...” I start to hum, singing my song and closing my eyes. As I continue to hum, I feel my breathing return to normal, I feel myself start to relax, and I open my eyes to see a worried Ranger. Is he pretending?

“What happened?” he asks, lifting me up effortlessly and setting me on the counter. Even though the counter is quite high, I’m at his eye level when I sit on it. My legs swing over the edge and I stare into my lap, pretending to find my small hands fascinating.

“I had a panic attack,” I mumble. “I’m okay.”

“Okay, why is the kitchen so clean? Why are you cleaning the kitchen this early? I watched you for half an hour scrubbing one spot over and over.”

“Why were you watching me?” I shoot back, looking up at him to gauge his reaction. He sighs and leans against my freshly cleaned counter.

“You’re a fascinating girl, Belle. I’ll give you that,” he says, shaking his head at me. “This place looks like it’s never been used. Even kitchens shouldn’t be this clean.”

“There’s no such thing as cleaning something too much,” I tell him.

“After seeing this, I beg to differ.” He looks at me and his gaze locks onto my face. He lifts my chin and winces as he examines my jaw. “He wasn’t pleased?”

“I passed his test.”

“I know. I’m sorry. He’s only done it a few times. And all of them chose to leave.”

“Where are they now?” I ask. He chuckles without humor before giving me a ‘you know’ look. They’re dead. Because they couldn’t be trusted. “I knew it was a test. He knows I knew.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think he cares. He never expects anyone to pass the test.”

“Then why does he do it? When he thinks no one will pass?”

“I’ve been working for him for a long time. He takes a liking to someone, and he fears attachment, so he convinces himself that they’ll just be loyal to him, that they’ll pass the test if they are good enough.

“Of course, no one is ever good enough. Deep down, he knows no one would choose to stay here. But it gives him an excuse to force himself to be rid of them. Until you, I guess.”

He looks at me, his eyes narrowing. “I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“But you did,” I say. So the monster is deeper than I thought he would be.

I guess we all have our demons. It doesn’t change the fact that one of mine is him. Enzo is a demon.

My current one. I shouldn’t be having sex dreams about him. He’s the enemy.