Chapter 38

"You defied me." I lashed over her lips, tightening my grip.

The corner of her lip curled up. "You would've left me defenseless," she confronted me. "Unarmed and easy to kill." Her eyes peered down and back up to mine. "I did what I had to do in order to protect myself."

My hand gave away its force, falling to her neck as I pondered her words. While I would have done the same, Alessandra did what she always does. Defy, manipulate, survive.

I pulled away from Alessandra. The woman whom I'd agreed to respect, protect, and hate. Hating her ways, her looks, her spirit, even if it was what I desired.

"You know I'm right."

Her hand lifted, pushed, and aimed at my face, but I couldn't allow her soft palm to reach my skin. Not when her tone had lowered, and her eyes softened with the promise of a caress.

A delicate embrace.

I stopped her before the chance was given, and with my hand secured to her wrist, I said, "Dinner should be served."

Her eyes cast away from view as her head turned, keeping the tells of her thoughts.

Alessandra drew her hand away when I released my hold and bluntly caught my eyes. Indifference and poise was all they gave.

"Will you be joining me?"

"I have work."

My tone was cold, distant.

I would reheat the food myself if necessary, if only to keep her from expecting nonsense out of me. Affection was not something I was willing to give or take. And every touch I gave her was either to pacify my demon or to play our sadistic game. One day, she would learn. Tonight, she could remind herself of it.

She nodded as if my answer wasn't a poor attempt to stay away.

With no further attempt, Alessandra turned. Before she walked out the door she said, "Move your knight to F3," and left.

Leaving me with an aching dick and the idea of a Zanetti carrying a knife in my home freely, I played the chess move she'd given me. I looked over the open board game by the table and took the offensive move, shifting the game.

A countermove.

I guess it was my turn to send California Alessandra's wishes.

ALESSANDRA

I had fallen asleep alone, with an empty stomach as my appetite had banished due to the contradicting feelings. Twisting me inside and beneath the covers.

From fury, joy, to the downward spiral created by rejection.

All playing a part in my awakening in the late night near a warm body, and during my sleepless night, I had turned toward its heat. Yet not close enough to touch.

Shifting my pillow, I searched through the darkness for him. Past the shadows, I made out his closed eyes and stretched frame. Freed from any restrictions and offered comfort by a blanket.

It seemed wrong to watch his bare and strong figure while he was unaware of my eyes on him. Immoral to the path my gaze slithered as sinful thoughts passed through.

He'd promised respect. Was this not me doing the opposite? Or was it longing for what he'd denied?

"It's late. You should sleep." His voice was hoarse and deeper than ever.

"I didn't mean to wake you." Too tired to master the English language, my exhausted mind spoke Italian.

"Your sleep is restless," Gritty Italian replied.

I smiled.

"I'm aware."

"Close your eyes and go to bed," he chided.

Of course he would, his moody attitude never failed. I rubbed my head onto the pillow one last time until it lay comfortably, and he gave up with a loud exhale.

It stopped as I placed my hand over his strong middle, not caring if he would reject my touch again.

I was too tired and drowsy to think about it, and he never made the effort to remove it even though his body was now stiff underneath. Whether he was too exhausted or just hopeful that I had found the path to succumb to sleep, I closed my eyes.

And in the night, I'd found an ally.

Darkness.

The night was replaced by another bright Miami morning. They all mirrored the next. And after weeks, I'd lost track of time as they all entwined into one cloudy daydream.

THE NEXT DAY

My bond with Wix and Vine had strengthened.

We ran. Endless hours of pushing our bodies until the sunbeams fell high from the sky and our breathing would give. My muscles regained their definition as I ran and pushed my core to its limits. Only I saw, knew, and felt the change.

They now slept at the foot of the bed.

Massimo never mentioned it. Not my body, not their attachment.

And at night, we only allowed our breathing to mix.

THE DAY AFTER

I cooked my first meal inside his home, Tortellini with fresh focaccia.

I even asked Thalia, her father, and Mrs. Carmine to join me so it wouldn't go to waste.

I never found out if Massimo had tasted it, never asked. Not even when my body was restless for his warmth beneath the moonlight.

THE FOLLOWING DAY

The limited minutes offered by time were never enough during daylight with him. So I focused on myself. It helped to pass time, but the more changes occurred during his absence, the harder it was to ignore the anchor that weighed between us.

A piece of the Zanetti that had left Italy returned with every change. But today, I felt proud because I'd finished the paperwork to launch my brand. Today, I had accomplished everything necessary for it to be sent for licensing.

Yet, Massimo kept me from doing so. After all, it involved possible meetings and face to face deals. Safety risks.

As confident as I was for what I'd accomplished, I worried about its outcome.

While I waited for the sun to go down, hoping today could be the day to catch him long enough to talk and discuss my proposal to work, I looked over one last time the envelope I held for dear life.

The evening came and passed.

Massimo remained nowhere to be found.

Funny how time worked. How it could fly with no change and leave you behind if allowed. Or how you could get stuck in its minutes, reliving the past and watching it sweep by into your present. Or suck you into the never-ending routine of déjà vu.

For me, it felt like time had slipped through my fingers mockingly. Waiting for the night as it delivered silence and Massimo's warm body near with my hand over his frame. Because as the sun awakened, so did I, alone.

TODAY

"Slow down, Wix!"

My order was as weak as my breathing. But it was the one command he disobeyed time after time. Wix had no regard for the cool down period after a run. It was all or nothing for him.

Vine panted by my side, watching his brother trot in the distance.

Eventually, Wix would return, as he always did.

Massimo's property was large enough to run one lap around its perimeter and call it a full workout. In today's excruciating heat that reminded me of the time changing and the season nearing to an end, my legs shook from overworked muscles. I lay down on the manicured grass, promising it would only be for a second to catch my breath. Vine didn't relax. Instead, he sat in the shade I had missed by inches. His pants were erratic, and before my muscles could lock up, I rose back to my feet.

Miami's summer would be cruel.

Summer.

I let go of the thought and looked up at the sun. Bright and unforgiving, I squinted my eyes to watch its set position. Its location said it was between the hours of ten and eleven, and we'd been out in the sun longer than usual.

"Let's head back, Vine. We all need water."

As we crossed straight through the backyard, Wix met us eagerly to trade us for comfort and air conditioning.

We passed by the tempting pool until we reached the back door kitchen. I opened the door and waited for the boys to go in before walking inside.

The kitchen was crowded, and when I took my earphones off, I listened to the commotion of pots, pans, and furious whisks jumbling in loud chaos.

"Oh, thank goodness, you are back." Mrs. Carmine exhaled, wiping her forehead against the towel over her shoulder.

Confused, I continued on the path to the fridge, picking out a bottle of water and a few ice cubes from the dispenser.

"What's the occasion?" I asked.

Thalia kneaded dough by the corner. Strands of hair fell from her loose ponytail as she worked quietly, making herself small and far away from everyone's fast pace. She was lost to the music that surely blared in her ears.

As I waited for Mrs. Carmine's reply, I walked over to Wix and Vine and dropped the ice cubes into their bowls.

"Family lunch."

Stunned by the deep and cold tone, I quickly turned to face its owner.

Dressed in the most casual outfit I'd seen him in, dark aegean blue-colored chinos and a white polo, Massimo stood tall in his cloud of malice. I stared, appreciating the ink his arms carried out in the open.

Family lunch?

I didn't have time to think or ask for any details. All hell broke loose in a massive yet crowded kitchen by the amount of bodies inside of it, and before I could say his name to acknowledge his presence, I saw the mere moment it all changed.

Alex, the chef who Thalia had described as short, appeared through my left eye, balancing a large pot. Alex's head poked over the side of the pot, missing Wix's backside who scarfed down water from below.

"Alessandra," Massimo demanded my attention in warning.

I wanted to keep my eyes on him, to have a moment to speak to him as the day had finally allowed it, but I couldn't because his warning desperately begged for me with an arm raised out. However, Alex's yelp caused my eyes to focus on him instead as he tripped over Wix, losing his footing and staggering with the pot.

I pushed back, a futile attempt, as the pot and its contents quickly knocked me down. It had all happened so fast. Only the lukewarm contents and the sharp pain that erupted through my right wrist registered.

Shocked, I looked up at Alex's widened eyes that had filled with fearful apologies. And yet, I feared for him. Wix's body spun, prepared, and shot at him.

I reacted.

In one swift move, I slipped through the floor as I lurched my body toward his. I did not stop until I trapped his collar and pulled him back as hard as I could.

I had no chance against Wix's strength. He jerked my wrist over and over as I continued to hold on, causing deeper pain.

"Foo!" Stop, I ordered in Russian weakly.

Massimo's command fell at the same time, but his tone held no hesitation as he roared, "Ostanovit."

Wix stopped.

"Lyezhat," Massimo's strong Russian echoed.

Both Wix and Vine listened by placing their heads above their paws and their bodies hitting the floor in unison.

I breathed out in relief as my adrenaline waned. What had just happened?

Looking down at Wix's heaving and yet controlled body, I finally let go of his heavy chain. An ache spread over my fingers, up my hand, and onto my wrist.

Breathe, Alessandra.

Massimo's shoes were now in front of me, ruined by the splatters. In an instant, his body lowered into view. He picked my head up with his arched index finger as he searched my eyes, but all I could see was the tomato and basil mess I was bathing in.