Chapter Three
1284 Words
Alessandro
I never imagine that I would meet Elena in this kind of situation. I always think I have everything under control. I always think nothing can catch me off guard—but this evening does.
My control slips. If I had not looked at her face, if I had not arrived at the right time, Lorenzo would have killed her. And I would have made his death slow and painful if that had happened. Even if she left me high and dry. Even if I still hate her, or at least, that is what I tell myself.
She has grown into a beautiful woman. She isn’t the girl I remember—that much is obvious. My gaze lingers on her longer than it should. It isn’t deliberate. I want to be sure she is the one. I would recognize her even if she were an old woman.
Her hair is still as long as always. Wavy. It falls down her shoulders and almost reaches her waist. There is a faint crease between her brows. My hand itches to smooth it out, but I won’t give her the satisfaction of thinking I still care. She doesn't deserve that version of me anymore.
There is a look on her face… or rather, the absence of one. There is no recognition. I have learned to read people, but there is nothing there. She looks at me like I am a stranger.
What is that? It doesn't make sense.
She keeps looking at me, but still—nothing. No flicker. No memory.
I know she didn’t just forget me. Not after everything we had. After everything we went through together. Something isn't right.
Am I just a past teenage mistake to her? Or maybe she never loved me at all.
I should stop thinking like that. If my father finds out these are the thoughts going through my head…
Well.
He can’t do anything. I am not that small boy anymore.
I remember the first man I killed. He was my loyal driver, but my father told me he betrayed us. He said the man was a traitor and deserved to die. I believed him. I wanted to please him. I wanted to be worthy in his eyes.
He handed me a gun and I killed the man. He begged. He cried. He swore he was innocent. I still pulled the trigger. I didn't hesitate, that was what he wanted.
My father smiled at me like I had done something right. Like I had finally become something useful.
That night, the man’s face haunted me. It kept haunting me. I said nothing to my father. I didn’t want to be called weak or looked at like something useless.
I found out later—by accident from my father's men—that the man was never a traitor. My father made me kill him because I preferred the man to.others. Because he wanted to test me.
I have not forgiven him since that day. And I have not forgiven myself either.
The moment I say, “Why is she still alive then?” without seeing her face, she starts begging. Crying. And I like it.
I like the way the tears stream down her face slowly. I like the way her voice breaks. It does something to me—something dark. I want to see more of it.
She walks right into my trap when she says she will do anything I want.
Silly girl. I hope she doesn’t go around making promises like that.
She doesn’t know what she has gotten herself into. She probably thinks we are just random thugs.
She has no idea that she is my undoing. she's my beginning.
I took over the underworld and became what I am because of her. I became this monster because she left me. Because she disappeared without a word.
I learned how to be ruthless because of her. And now, I will show her exactly what that made me. I started killing without hesitation because she left me behind.
It is her fault.
And I will make her regret the day she walked up to me in Sant’ Onofrio Academy.
After her sixteenth birthday, I went looking for her. She was gone. Her house was empty. Deserted. Like she had never existed.
My father told me they relocated. Just like that. No goodbye. No explanation.
She told me she would marry me when we were older. We promised each other.
She broke that promise.
She broke it like it meant nothing.
One of my father’s men showed me a picture of her with another man. He looked older. Too close to her.
That was the day I decided I would never forgive her. Never.
I assign two of my best men to follow her home without her knowing. They keep their distance. They protect her. If anything happens to her, they answer to me.
No one touches her. No one gets close to her. No one has the right. She was mine from the beginning. And she walked back into my life herself. This time, I am not letting her go.
I go to the café one week later. I lie to myself that it's just a random visit. But the truth is, I can’t get her out of my head.
She doesn’t look surprised to see me.
Good.
Her eyes stay on me from the moment I step out of the car to the moment I walk into the café. I feel it. Every second of it.
I order and tell her to sit with me.
She looks… distracting. Even in something simple.
I don’t stare. I don’t allow myself to. But I see everything.
"What do you want from me?" she asks.
I almost laugh.
I want to ruin you. I want to own every piece of you. I want to be the only thing you think about. But I don’t say any of that.
"You will figure it out," I tell her. She will.
She will beg me to let her go and I won’t.
She agreed to something she doesn’t understand. Now she belongs to it.
I leave after telling her we will meet later.
On my way out, I notice the way a man who looks like her co-worker or boss looks at her. The way his eyes linger on her body. Wrong move.
I don’t react there. I don’t show it. But I order my men to pick him up after work. Quietly. He won’t see another day. I make a mental note to take his eyes before I kill him.
No one looks at her like that. No one.
I punished Lorenzo for even thinking of killing her. How dare he?
What if I had been late?
That thought alone is enough.
We had been trailing a businessman who thought he could betray me. Stupid. They are all stupid.
I went to deal with him. Lorenzo handled the others. And somehow, she ends up there.
Why was she even walking past that alley alone? She has no sense of danger.
If anything happens to her…
No.
Nothing will happen to her. Not anymore.
Back at the clubhouse, I wait. I built this place to unwind. To think. Not for business. Even though business still finds its way here. I don’t care.
I stand by the window, looking out at the city when she walks in and closes the door behind her.
I let the silence stretch.
"You kept me waiting," I say eventually.
"I just got off work," she replies, her voice careful. Her eyes move around the room, curious.
I turn slightly, And then, without hesitation—
"Strip."
- Writer
