Chapter Eleven: Loving a Monster
997 Words
Serafina did not sleep.
The truth had lodged itself beneath her skin, sharp and unrelenting. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw ink on aged paper. Her name written by hands that had never asked her permission. A future mapped without her voice.
And Alessio.
Standing in the doorway, letting her walk away.
That was what unsettled her most.
By morning, she was exhausted and furious in equal measure.
She dressed deliberately—simple black dress, hair loose down her back, no jewelry. Not defiance. Not surrender. Something in between. She needed air, distance, proof that the world still existed beyond the estate’s walls.
She left before anyone could stop her.
Palermo greeted her with noise and movement, the city breathing in a way the estate never did. She walked without direction until she reached a familiar street—one lined with galleries and cafés, places where conversation felt light and unburdened.
That was where she saw Luca Bianchi.
He was leaning against the railing outside a café, sunlight catching the edges of his smile. Younger than Alessio. Softer. Familiar in a way that didn’t demand vigilance.
“Serafina,” he said, surprise warming his voice. “I thought you’d disappeared into legend.”
She smiled despite herself. “Something like that.”
They talked easily—about art, exhibitions, travel. About the years she had spent away. Luca listened without watching her like she might vanish.
For the first time in days, her shoulders loosened.
She didn’t notice Alessio until the air shifted.
He stood across the street.
Still. Watching.
He hadn’t followed her closely. He never did. He stood far enough away to pretend coincidence, close enough to intervene if the world tilted wrong.
Luca noticed her distraction. “Friend of yours?”
Her mouth opened.
Then closed.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly.
Alessio’s jaw tightened imperceptibly.
Luca smiled, easy and unguarded. “Well, if he’s waiting for you, I should probably let you go.”
“No,” she said too quickly. Then paused. “Actually—would you like to walk with me?”
She didn’t look at Alessio as she said it.
She felt him anyway.
Luca nodded, pleased. “I’d like that.”
They walked along the harbor, the sea glittering beside them. Luca spoke about a new exhibit he was curating, his hand occasionally brushing hers. Innocent. Unclaimed.
And yet—
Her heart pounded like she was doing something dangerous.
She glanced back once.
Alessio had followed.
Not close. Never close.
His face was unreadable, but his eyes burned with something raw and tightly leashed. He did not interrupt. Did not approach. Did not claim.
He suffered in silence.
It twisted something deep inside her.
“You seem… elsewhere,” Luca said gently.
“I am,” she admitted.
He studied her. “Someone hurt you.”
She almost laughed.
“Someone saved me,” she said instead. “And I don’t know how to forgive that.”
Luca stopped walking. “Serafina—”
A voice cut in.
“That’s enough.”
Alessio stood behind them now, tension radiating off him like heat. He hadn’t raised his voice. He didn’t need to.
Luca stiffened. “Excuse me?”
Alessio’s gaze never left Serafina. “We’re leaving.”
“I didn’t agree to that,” she said, lifting her chin.
“I know,” he replied. “That’s why I’m asking you to choose.”
Luca looked between them, finally sensing the undercurrent. “Is there a problem here?”
Alessio turned his eyes to him—cold, assessing.
“Yes,” he said. “You’re standing too close to something dangerous.”
Luca bristled. “I don’t respond well to threats.”
“This isn’t one,” Alessio said calmly. “It’s a warning.”
Serafina stepped between them. “Stop.”
Both men froze.
She turned to Alessio, voice low. “You said you’d let me choose.”
“I am,” he said. “But don’t pretend this doesn’t affect me.”
Her chest tightened. “That’s not my burden.”
“It is,” he said softly. “Because I carry you everywhere.”
Silence stretched.
Luca exhaled slowly. “I think I should go.”
Serafina didn’t stop him.
When they were alone, the air felt heavier.
“You embarrassed him,” she said.
“I protected you,” Alessio replied.
“From what?” she snapped. “Normalcy?”
His voice dropped. “From men who don’t understand the cost of touching you.”
She laughed bitterly. “And you do?”
“Yes,” he said. “Because I pay it daily.”
She stared at him, anger warring with something far more dangerous.
“Do you enjoy this?” she asked. “Watching me test you?”
“No,” he said immediately. “I endure it.”
She swallowed.
“Why didn’t you stop me sooner?” she asked.
“Because,” he said, “if I cage you, you will hate me. And if you choose another man freely—at least I’ll know it wasn’t fear.”
Her breath hitched.
“That’s cruel,” she whispered.
“So is loving you,” he replied.
She turned away, hands shaking.
“You don’t get to be noble and monstrous at the same time.”
“I never asked to be noble,” he said. “Only necessary.”
She looked back at him then—really looked.
At the man who would bleed quietly rather than touch her without consent. At the monster who refused to claim what he believed was his unless she reached for him first.
And the terrifying truth settled in her chest.
She wasn’t afraid of Alessio.
She was afraid of how much of him she already carried.
“Take me home,” she said.
He nodded once. Obedient. Controlled.
As they walked, their hands brushed.
This time—
Neither pulled away.
- Writer
