Page 117 of Forgive Me, Father
My limbs were leaden, too heavy to move.I couldn’t even lift a foot to kick him.
He spoke Italian again and when I didn’t answer, he hit me.I literally saw stars and then darkness.
A sharp, unfamiliar scent pulled me back to reality.My cheek throbbed with pain as he spoke in Italian again, his words cold and deliberate.
“I don’t understand.”The words barely left my lips.
He chuckled, a dark amusement in his voice.“You’re feisty.I can see why he likes you.”
“Who?”I demanded, my voice rough.
“Your husband.It was a shock when he didn’t marry that slut of his.I get it,” he said with a sly grin.“Who wants a second-hand car when you’ve been promised a brand-new Rolls-Royce?”His accent was thick, rolling the words in a way that made them feel even sharper.
I stared at him.“Do you know my husband?”
He let out a low laugh, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes.“We have some unfinished business.I promised him an eye for an eye.Thought it’d be fitting if the debt was paid by his sister, but the bitch got away and you were the next best thing.”
His sister.The accident.I had misunderstood him.
“Don’t do this,” I begged.“It’s not going to end well.I promise you.”
“He’ll get over you, just like he got over all his other bitches,” the man said with a sneer.
"Yeah, it's not like that with us," I said, trying to convince him of something I wasn’t entirely sure of myself.
He smirked.“It’s what they all say.But trust me, sweetheart, he has no feelings.He’s aPezzo di merda.Worse than a fucking pig.”
"Whatever's between you and my husband, sir, is none of my business," I said, my voice steady, though my mind raced.I'd tell him whatever he wanted to hear.I just needed to buy time, time until Alfonso found me.
“I don’t care if you are part of it or not.Now that I have you, I’m going to make your last few hours of living hell.Hopefully, when I drop your broken body outside his home, he can finally feel something.I hoped it would push him to come after me, to finally put an end to this once and for all.”
“You are crazy,” I whispered lowly.“Alfonso will tear you limb from limb before wiping everyone you love from the face of the earth.”
He threw his head back and laughed.“You have no idea who your husband is, do you?A rapist and a murderer.”
Shock crashed up my spine.No.There was no way… but then that night jumped into my thoughts.That night when he had me pinned against the wall, wanting to teach me a lesson.
I swallowed hard as a tear blurred my sight.
He spoke in Italian, sweet and softly, brushing the side of my cheek lovingly as if he cared.
Anger rose up.“You all are.You have the one underneath your eye too.”
“Oh no, no, no, little girl.I kill who they tell me to kill.YourPezzo Di Merda, he likes to kill everyone.Kids, women, elderly.”
“You’re a liar!”I spat.
The asshole laughed.Clearly enjoying it.“Why do you think I hate him so much?”
I shook my head, refusing to hear another word of his lies.
He spat out a stream of Italian—sharp, bitter—curses I didn’t need to understand to feel their venom.
“He fucking killed the only woman I have ever loved.He dragged it out, raped her over and over, and slit her throat.Just because he could.”
Alfonso had his darkness, I wasn’t stupid, but it was notthatkind of darkness.“I know you’re lying,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
Still, a flicker of doubt crept in.If left unchecked, could his darkness drive him that far?
