Our deadly little secret

Guilia's POV

It's been two months since I got back from Rome and I still could not stop myself from thinking about him, the perfect most handsome looking gentleman I had ever seen.

Rome was practically my place of peace, even from when I was a little child, and going there for trips with my family gave me the most happiness. I fell in love with the place and chose to enroll there for college, and it was easy for that dream to come true because I was determined and quite talented.

I was one of the best applying students at Rufa-Rome university of fine arts, and I was undergoing a part time scholarship before everything came to shambles.

I had left school upon hearing the news of my father's death and came back home leaving everything behind, only to be greeted by my new reality and be forced to accept it.

Marrying him was the only way to protect what I had left, my mother and sister, but it came with a lot of restrictions and pain, and I knew I had no power to fight against them, at least not for now.

Seeing that my dream had been cut short, I did my best to convince Salvatore to let me go Back for a week, to fully accept the change myself and move my things, and also to see my old friends and say goodbye to them properly.

I was really surprised at that moment that he agreed and made it less difficult for me, but I sure had also made up mind to fight him if he said otherwise.

The stranger and I met at the bar for the first time, when I went drinking with my friends that night, and luckily for both of us, we wanted to keep our movements a secret. At first I was bothered about being caught by the few men Salvatore sent to watch me, but I figured that he was more discreet than I was and so it became easy to cover both our tracks. I still could not rap my head around how he was able to pull that off.

I had spent the rest of that week locked up in his hotel suite with him, having the most amazing sex all through and around, and eating the most amazing dishes. And I had also returned back here to Italy, without a single form of suspicion from Salvatore.

I thought about all the things he did to me and how he made me feel, I thought about the conversations we had and how easy it was to open up to him.

knowing that he was a stranger, and someone that I would never get to see again, I told him stories about myself, including how abusive my dog of a husband was.

"So you're really not going to tell me who this husband is? I mean he seems powerful with the way you speak of him. Or are you scared that I'll come one night and kidnap you, or better still kill him?" He had asked one evening after a steamy round of sex, as we were cuddled up together in the balcony.

"Killing him would solve all my problems actually, so I should be happy about that. It's not just as easy as it seems, and I have much more to protect." I replied, thinking for a second what it would really feel like if Salvatore was dead.

"I may hate his very existence, but it helps me feel more protected and safe that you know nothing about me or my husband, besides the story I tell you. What we share may be the single most beautiful thing in the world, but it doesn't change the fact that I would soon have to return to the real world". I added, hurting him with my words.

I remembered how heartbroken we both felt after I said those things, and how we kept each other silent afterwards, even though the anger didn't seem to last long. It was the cutest moment.

"I wish I could see him again" I whispered in yearns, rolling my eyes at the mirror and letting out the heaviest sigh, before taking off my clothes and heading towards the bathtub.

I had just finished having sex with the filthy old man and needed to wash myself clean till I bled. The thought of having him inside me felt like I had become dirt and so it created a habit of scrubbing extra hard, every time I showered. I was beginning to act like a junky.

Not only was he evil and vile, but he also was a freak. He would hit me in specific places for minutes, even hours, before putting his dick into me and would always buy new sets of costumes for me to wear.

He made sure that I always paraded myself as the animal he wanted me to be, before even stepping into his room. This act turned him on greatly.

He even proceeded to give me a guild book on the first day of my arrival, showing the kinds of things he liked, and the things that I needed to submit to. It felt as though he had been waiting for me for a long time.

According to him, my father had made a very huge mistake that cost my family a lot, and resulted in him taking his own life, and anytime I think about how I have to be the one to pay for this sins, I begin to cry even more.

I had already planned my life and how I wanted to live, I was going to move to Rome completely and continue studying arts even after university, as it was my passion, and I was going to fall in love with a normal student like me and have a perfectly normal life.

I was going to get married and have two kids that would look like both parents, and I was going to cook for my family every single day.

Besides the fact that my father left no explanations as to what he did and why he killed himself, I hated that he still had the guts to feel sorry about it.

"I mean why would you ask for forgiveness after ending your own life, and selling me off to these men, all the while still shamelessly saying that you loved me, in the letter you wrote?" I asked, looking up at the ceiling, as I soaked my body in the warm water. I loved my dad, but my last memories of him was fucked. I felt betrayed.

Salvatore had handed me the letter that my father wrote before he died, saying that he had entrusted him with it, and despite finding this very sketchy, I had no way of proving against it.

I looked at the area where he had chosen to hit me today and it was swollen like a bitch. I had gotten used to the pain by now, unlike when I just came, and it was a good thing that I didn't have to whine and cry like that anymore.

Going to Rome really calmed my spirit, much more than I expected, but I guess I also figured out that whining and crying every time solved nothing, especially when you are married to the king of a mafia family. One who was three times your age, and one that has no single feelings whatsoever.