THE BEAST WITHIN
1175 Words
A dark shadow silhouetted against the lights emerged.
Lily blinked, trying to regain full composure from the searing gas. One that had rendered her brain torrid.
The ceiling light flickered once. Twice. Then stayed on, pale and cold like a morgue lamp.
He crouched near her. Close enough that she smelled the smoke clinging to him. Expensive cigars. Blood, maybe. Regret? No. Antonio Morello didn’t traffic in regret.
“Welcome” he said in a gritty voice.
She coughed briefly, her voice cracked. “What do you want from me?”
His eyes narrowed. Green. Or maybe black. Hard to tell.
“You’re here to play a part, Lily.”
“A part? What is this, some sick theatre?”
Antonio didn’t blink. His face, scarred, expressionless like granite. A tic? A laugh he forgot how to let out?
“You’re beauty,” he said flatly. “And me? The beast. That’s how you see it. I see stubbornness. A rock in my shoe.”
“I’m nobody,” she whispered.
“Not anymore.”
His phone buzzed. He pulled it out, thumbed the screen. His eyes darkened, went cold as graveyard frost.
Images. Jack had sent him images.
Mariana. His Mariana. The only good thing he thought he could still own.
And with Cassio. The punk. The traitor. The cockroach at his table.
At the Transatlantique. Laughing. Drinking his wine.
He tightened his so hard, Lily could virtually hear him grit his teeth
“Mariana,” he said under his breath. No warmth in the name. No pain either. Just the promise of something terrible to come.
He rose, pocketed the phone.
“Where are you going?”
He stared down at her, dead-eyed. “To remind the world who I am.”
She tried to stand, staggered. “You can’t - Antonio - don’t do anything stupid.”
He laughed then. Once. A sound like a gun c*****g.
“Too late.”
And he was out.
He slammed the door. Shut.
The sound rattled her instantly.
Outside, save for the lights looming from inside the bungalow, the building was dark.
He paused momentarily.
His hard facial profile creased by etchings of a hideous mobster. Or monster.
Inside, Lily stood up. Heartbeat spiking uncontrollably.
She ran to the window. Watched him stalk to the car. Black. Gleaming. Like a hearse waiting for its next client.
The engine roared to life and coughed. Plumes of smoke emerged.
She banged on the glass. “Antonio! Stop! Listen!”
He could hardly hear her. Glass was soundproof. Laminated.
He angrily steered the car away from the area where the bungalows formed a cluster. Tyres chewed gravel, and he was gone.
Gone to do God knew what.
Lily sank to the floor.
“Damn it.”
She sat there, thinking. Thinking about Mariana. Cassio. Thinking about how she was now part of this mess, whether she liked it or not.
And she thought about her father. The man who’d crawled away from this world when she was a kid. Who left her with his debts, his name, his enemies.
Coward.
Screwing her eyes, he tried to shake the gas-fog still clawing at her brain.
No use.
The room smelled of fear. Hers.
Then...
A sound.
Not from outside. From inside.
The camera.
It whirred. Shifted.
Watching her again.
Her skin prickled.
********
The mansion was ensconced like a dark god on the hill. Stone. Steel. Shadows that moved like memories.
Antonio drove like the devil was on his tail, though he was the devil. Tires chewed the gravel. The gates opened slow, as if they feared him too.
He killed the engine, stepped out. The night air bit at him. It smelt of rain. Of blood.
Boots echoed on marble as he crossed the foyer. Past sculptured gargoyles peeking from the vaulted ceilings, still creatures he didn’t remember buying. Past portraits of his ancestors who looked like him. Actually dead Sicilian men.
He shoved open the double doors to the library. His kingdom. His coffin.
He made his way to the sideboard. There was a bottle of whiskey. One that was untouched.
The thought of Mariana made his mind go into a tailspin.
Anger. Frustration. Despair clouded his thoughts.
He went straight to the corner shelf. The one that wasn’t just wood and dust.
His fingers instinctively found the controls.
A soft whir.
The panel slid back.
The screen glowed to life.
She was there.
Lily.
On the feed.
Her room. The bungalow. Nine to be precise
She stood by the window. Pale light cut across her face. She looked... tired. Angry. Alive.
He should have switched it off. But he kept watching.
Should have poured the whiskey instead.
But he didn’t.
Lily moved. His eyes, almost seeing through her statuesque physique.
Something fetish making his crotch gnaw.
Slow. Deliberate.
She peeled off her blouse. Like it was deliberate. Tossed it on the chair.
Antonio stood there. Frozen.
The scar on his face burned.
She unhooked her bra. Her breasts hung. Firm.
He told himself to look away.
But he didn’t.
Didn’t blink.
His d**k slowly went erect. Like a missile.
Her skin gleamed in the dim light. A goddess in chains. A prisoner who didn’t even know the cage was inside her head.
Antonio’s hand that was curled into a fist went limp
His mind drifted.
Wanted to smash the screen.
Wanted to drive back.
Wanted to touch her.
A voice at the back of his mind kept nagging. 'Don't be a beast."
But the beast in him was more powerful. It ignited his lust.
She stepped toward the bathroom. The feed caught a glimpse of water running. Steam rising.
Antonio’s breathing was ragged.
He reached for the whiskey.
Poured a glass hastily
Downed it in one curt swig.
It did nothing.
The room felt tighter. The shelves, closer.
He slammed the glass down.
And stared at the screen again.
Lily.
The girl he’d marked.
The girl who would either save him. Or damn him further.
On the screen, she turned her face toward the hidden camera. As if she knew.
As if she felt him watching.
And for the first time in years, Antonio Morello felt fear.
The kind no gun or blade could fix.
The kind that came from wanting something too much.
His device, sleek and expensive, buzzed.
A new message.
From Corello. One of his hitmen.
"There's a situation boss. Better come to the warehouse. Now."
Antonio’s gaze stayed on the screen.
Lily vanished into the bathroom.
Steam fogged the lens.
He licked his lips.
The beast wanted to go back. To take what it thought was his.
But another part - the part buried deep - whispered of Mariana. Cassio. Revenge that couldn’t wait.
His thumb hovered over the reply button.
The warehouse awaited.
Mariana and Cassio were elsewhere.
Lily was waiting.
His mind raced in confusion. His d**k had gone flaccid.
The beast was asleep for now. Cassio and Mariana, he would deal with later.
The warehouse awaited. Something was amiss.
- Writer
