Chapter 54

There was so much pink and gold that it was nearly impossible not to be perplexed by it. It was too busy and different from the earth and calming tones from the rest of this villa.

I lowered to the ground and glanced under the low opening. The stall was empty. Immediately I regretted doing so when a rush overwhelmed me. My hand shot out to Massimo's chest to stabilize my body.

"Alessandra?"

God, how I hated the pity in his voice. I used all the strength I had left and pushed my hand deeper into his chest until there was enough space to close the door in his face.

"Alessandra!" his voice warned.

I locked the door, resting my forehead against it.

"It's empty, Massimo. Please."

The silence that followed wasn't reassuring knowing Massimo would be insufferable if he didn't get his way, but I kept him out.

Get it together, Alessandra.

Taking deep breaths, I made my way to the gold sink. I let the cold water run and placed my hands beneath. A sigh of relief flew past my parted lips, and I raised my head to stare at my reflection.

My eyes had grown dopey with red lines coursing through them when they should've been a clear white. Cheeks filled with red, and swollen lips that couldn't seem to close shut.

Migraines were a bitch.

It'd been years since I had one, but when they came, they completely shook me into a stupor. Usually caused by stress or too much stimulation, it was my mind's way to shut down for peace, since it was the only time I would allow weakness to prevail.

But after a day thinking of the deaths, the threats, my father, Massimo's honesty, and still trying to parade around a room filled with expensive chaos, my reeling mind had said enough.

Breathing through the crawling anxiety, I splashed water onto my face, carefully avoiding my eyes, and melted with relief. Over and over, chilled water cooled my skin, and my breathing strengthened. As I bent against the counter, water dripped from my face, and I waited for it to dry on its own. For the droplets to continue their nurture. When the last drop clashed, I turned the faucet off, and looked up.

Motherfucker.

This couldn't be happening.

A chuckle bounced out of my chest as I picked a paper towel from the counter and dried my hands without removing my eyes from the mirror. But the more I stared, the more it dawned on me, it was not vision.

I wasn't alone.

"Not now, okay?" I whispered a warning.

The reflection hesitated as it didn't expect my reply, or demeanor. And as he stalled, my eyes wandered over his attire.

Black leather gloves, black tuxedo, black eyes.

He was here for me. My warning wouldn't change that.

But I was so tired, drained, and irritated. He couldn't have picked a better timing.

With a loud groan and a deep breath, I tossed the used paper towel and faced him.

In the corner of my eye the stall door gently swung wide open. A mistake I wouldn't commit again by not clearing the room thoroughly. Because there would be a next time. I wasn't dying in a pink bathroom.

I wasn't dying today.

I rolled my shoulders back with a grin as the sound of his switchblade popped out. A knife fight, I snickered.

I was losing it.

I closed my eyes and counted to three.

One.

Two.

Three.

My eyes opened into the void.

Pure blackness.

I heard his first step before I saw it coming, and in one quick movement, my hand fished under my dress slit.

His second stride came, and my fingers twirled my blade into my palm.

Ready, I watched his towering and bulky figure launch my way. Quickly, I ducked and slipped away from his blade. But he twisted rapidly with one foot in the air. Arching my body forward, I eased his kick on my back from striking me at full force. I staggered and glanced over to the locked door.

The man slammed me with an impact that knocked me to the ground.

I groaned when my hands failed to keep my face from hitting the tile floor.

"Alessandra?" Massimo's muffled voice shook the pain away.

"MASSIMO!"

Thump.

I gasped in agony at the blazing shock wave that exploded through my face. A full-on collision against the tile by the powerful hands of a man. I tried fighting the compressing weight of his body, but it was useless. My strength compared to his was non-existent in such a position.

Thump.

The taste of metal flooded my tongue, and I cried out against the solid floor after the second impact. But he didn't let go. Instead, he harshly shoved the left side of my face deeper into the ground.

I fought through the fatigue, the torture, and his weight, but his violent hands never swayed.

"You bitch!" he said angrily, knowing there was no other way he would leave this room but as a corpse after I'd called out for Massimo. "You will pay for-"

I couldn't care less.

Using his brief speech to my advantage, I curled my finger tightly around my push dagger, and drove it into his thigh.

Curses and groans filled the room, and I repeatedly rammed my blade into his leg, knowing each time I pulled it out, the deeper damage I left behind. His weight shifted from his flesh tearing, and I rolled out of his hold.

The scorching burn from my beaten face fueled me with violent madness. And as I watched him finally see me as the threat I was, I vowed to send him to hell myself so he could feel real fire.

But the coward dropped his knife as he reached behind his waist.

I couldn't allow him to retrieve his gun. If I did, I was as good as dead.

I ran up to him the same moment his gun appeared in my view. My dagger flew, and the gun clattered on the floor along with my blade.

His hand bled and he took a step back. However, the blood from his leg had pooled across the floor, causing him to slip down hard onto the ground.

"You" He seethed through his bare teeth.

I was on him, straddling his hips, unable to stop.

To see it through.

Death, claiming his eyes.

Hell, opening its gates.

And for eternity to condemn his soul.

Strong hands wrapped around my neck. Clasping tightly and cutting off the flow of air from filtering into my lungs.

I held my breath to keep the panic from rising and raised my knife-wielding hand above me.

One moment, I was losing consciousness, and the next, I had pierced the stinger knife right into his throat. Dragging it out, I focused on his skin. The vein that popped with mock.

With a target in sight, I stabbed the needle blade again and again.

Spurts of blood coated my body, splashing red showers against my face as his grip weakened.

"I told you," I gritted out between jabs "Not. Now."

His hands struggled to reach his wounds as his mouth widened with gargling chokes while I fiercely drained the life out of him. After his arms flopped to his side, and his eyes stared vacantly at me, I stopped.

I pulled out the pick knife from his neck and dragged my body off him. My ass slid against the wet floor until I sat against the wood of the stall, watching blood pour in crying rivers down his flesh.

With long breaths and stretched legs, I studied his black eyes glazing into pits of nothingness.

"And in heels," I croaked, clearing my fiery throat.

The door burst open with splintering wood chips scattering all around.

Massimo's eyes widened when he looked down at me, and he wasn't alone. Elio stood right next to him, mirroring Massimo's features.

I could only imagine how I looked under their gaze. Sitting in front of a dead body. Filthy with the same blood that decorated the bathroom walls and doors. Calm and at ease after the bloodbath I'd created.

"Alessandra?"

Massimo's hurried steps neared, and I raised my palm.

He stopped.

I stood, walked away from the dead body to retrieve my blood-soaked best friend from the floor, and straightened.

I offered Massimo a small smile, and both sets of eyes filled with alarm.

"I feel better," I said to Massimo.

But madness still rocked me in its possessive arms.

Massimo continued to respect my wish to stay away. To give me time to compose myself. It was what I had tried to do this whole time, and never got the chance to do.

Both men followed my every step with their gaze, but Massimo roamed every inch of my body. When I faced the mirror, I understood why.

The words bloody and filthy wouldn't be enough to describe what was staring back at me.

The sight of me was morbid. Washed in crimson filth with a busted lip, a split brow that wouldn't stop oozing the flow of a red trickle. I stepped closer and spit the metal taste into the golden sink.

I met the savage of his eyes through the mirror, and when I assured him I was fine, I noticed my wine-colored smeared teeth.

His features clouded, and his head craned, disturbed by my appearance.

"Are you hurt?"

I shook my head. "Can we go now?"

Elio laughed somewhere in the room, but Massimo didn't find it funny, and I hadn't meant it to be humorous.

Massimo's jaw locked, his neck and face muscles jumping with impotence, and he took a step closer.

Ignoring him, I placed my blades into the sink, and I turned the faucet back on. The water turned a shade of pink as I rinsed my hands and face. I was eager to get the stench of his body off me. And I used paper towels to wipe away the dried-up blood from my arms.

It didn't matter how long I spent on each arm, I always found a new spot to clean.

With a dampened towel, I dabbed and cleaned my neck, shoulders, and chest. All I had managed to do was smudge it into angry streaks.

"Stop," he uttered so close I felt the heat of his body behind me.

I did what he asked. And when his hands connected to my hips, twisting me to face him, I didn't fight it. I didn't fight him.

His fingers gently glided up my waist, and I closed my eyes when they held my face kindly. Slowly, his thumb ran over my lips, and I hissed.

"I'm sorry," Massimo apologized.

My eyes fluttered open, and as I watched guilt in his eyes, I knew he meant for not getting to me faster.

But I'd locked him out. I purposely didn't allow him inside the room to check it thoroughly. It was me who recklessly pushed him out.

I didn't blame him.

I didn't blame him for not coming in and saving me on a white horse.

This was my life.

Just as much as it was his.

And in a life together, there would always be a threat. A new foe who would try to take one of us from each other. Someone who would want his seat.

Massimo pulled me to him, and I accepted his embrace, breathing him in and curling into his chest a moment longer to ease the adrenaline shudders that coursed through me. I held him tight, needing his strength and body to swallow the visions that flooded my soul.

"Yes, she's not harmed."

Elio must have asked for my well-being.

"Here, put this on. Nate is bringing the car over to the side exit."