Page 63 of Corrupting Lily

When we exit the villa, she greets the tiny praying mantis hanging from a branch just off the front porch, which seems to call it home and which she has now named Freddy. We pass the shells that washed up on shore, some of which are now drying out on the front porch after being collected and rinsed. She shows me the ones she likes best, pointing out the different colors and patterns that earned them that honor. Alongside the shells is a collection of beach glass and beach wood, most smoothed by the friction of waves and sand. Next to that are the bits of wood collected in the forest.

Then, there were the photos she took of flowers, shells, and even water. She had an eye for capturing these subjects in a way that showcased their beauty and perfection. Even a log on the sand became beautiful when captured at just the right angle with the right amount of light. I was never one for pictures, but now I am the focus of so many—posing alone or with her when we found the perfect backdrop, setting the timer before quickly running to make it in time. The photos she captured of me, of us, felt like looking at another person. The smile on my face, which was typically scarce, appeared in nearly every one of them. If not a smile, my gaze was fixed on her, and the love there was evident, mirrored in the look she gave me.

We are in love. Really and truly. She loves me. I can hardly believe it. I can't believe how incredibly fucking lucky I am.

“Are we nearly there?” she asks as we walk along a narrow path flanked by large rocks on either side, drawing my attention back to the present.

The sound of running water ahead indicates that we are close. “Yes, just a little further,” I reply, enjoying the view that walking behind her affords me. Thanks to lots of sun and sea, her skin has a light,glowing tan, and her hair is windswept and wavy, making her look like a sexy little vixen. Her eyes sparkle, and the smile on her face is almost permanent. I just hope I can keep Lily feeling like this: safe and confident. A few minutes later, her gasp reveals we have reached our destination—one that I knew she would absolutely love.

“Dominico, this is amazing!” she shrieks, jumping up and down as I stop beside her. The lagoon we are standing in offers sparkling, clear blue water that remains consistently fresh, thanks to the waterfall cascading over smooth rocks at the other end. I had a deck constructed on a long, flat stone ledge curving around one side of the water's edge, with enough space for a few chairs, a small table, and even two hammocks. Yesterday, I had the second hammock installed by the island's caretaker, Jaco, who lives nearby and is the only other person permitted access. Fresh food and refreshments are also laid out, thanks to him, creating the perfect setting for my first real date with my little flower.

"It's like I am living a fairy tale right now," she says dreamily, hunching down to test the temperature of the water.

"Oh my god, the water is perfect. Are you coming in?” she asks, already removing her top and shorts. She is sporting a bikini similar to the yellow one she wore when I nearly killed Rocco, except this one fits her. While the one Holly had borrowed her was amazing, it was way to small for her much bigger tits.

“Of course,” I say, dumping my gear and removing my shirt before diving in.

"Come, I want to show you something." Her eyes light up when I point towards the waterfall. As we swim towards it, the water becomes shallower until eventually, our feet touch the stone. We walk up the gentle slope to the point where cascading water meets stone. Lily giggles as I grasp her hand and pull her under the water, through tothe other side.

She swipes the water from her eyes, which immediately widen at the sight that even I admit is unique. A large hole in the cave roof allows sunlight to shine through and is probably the reason for all the pink and yellow flowers growing along the edge of the cave. From the mouth of the waterfall, where the sun reaches, curving around the cave's edge and meeting in the middle, is an ecosystem of flowers and ferns, all thriving in a place that the eye cannot usually see.

"This…this is something else." Lily's words are barely audible over the water pouring behind us, but the expression on her face conveys it all: awe-struck. She hunches down, gently stroking a fern leaf before getting up and moving to the next intriguing thing she spots. I have seen all this before, so instead, I focus on my obsession. I watch her admire things that seem delicate yet thrive here, in a cave with little effort. It's no wonder she finds these so fascinating. Just like these fragile flowers, my little flower appears delicate, but like them, she is strong. Surviving. Adapting. Growing where she is planted. And with nourishment, she thrives. My goal is to ensure she remains in this state. After an hour of exploring the cave, we return to the lagoon.

"I need a drink," I say, climbing out while she floats around in the water like a mermaid.

I walk over to the deck and pour myself a whiskey while I watch her enjoy the cool water. Her hair is splayed out, floating around her like a halo.

“The water is so refreshing,” she says a few minutes later, standing on the deck and ringing her hair out.

I pop the cork on the champagne and hand it to her. She smiles, tilting her head to the side and eyeing me suspiciously. "How did you know I would want to keep this?"

"I know you,il mio fiorellino. You are sentimental. Besides, there isstill space in the backpack for one more trinket," I joke, handing her a glass of champagne.

“To us. To our love.” Her eyes dance with that sentiment, and we clink our glasses together before sipping.

I realize too late that the bitter taste on my tongue registers as abnormal. Fuck. The glass of whiskey slips from my grasp as the muscles react to the toxin entering my blood stream.

"Lily," I grunt, my eyes flaring as I feel the effects of the drug on my body. Slowly, the rest of my muscles become paralyzed until eventually, I slump over, knocking items off the table, which hit the deck with a loud crash. With my head on the table, I watch horrified as Lily's eyes widen, all the joy from minutes ago vanishing as panic flares. A look seared into my memory forever.

She hits the deck with a loud thud, joining the shards of glass already there and taking her out of view. What if she hit her head? What if she landed awkwardly and broke something? Thoughts of her lying there, maybe hurt, and of me being unable to help her because I have been poisoned pull up a rage I thought was long gone. One that I carried when my father was still alive. How did this happen? How did I go from one minute being in heaven to the next being in hell? The building anger, though, quickly finds a friend in fear when a noise from the opposite side of the lagoon draws my attention. My vision is blurred, but the outline of three men running toward us is unmistakable.

“Quick. They know we are here,” one of the men says, his voice thick with an Italian accent. Mother fuckers. This was an inside job; I'm almost certain of it. But instead of moving toward me as they approach, their target is my wife, lying unconscious on the deck just feet away from me. I fight to move, anger and fear swirling inside me as I watch one of them lift Lily and sling her unconscious form overhis shoulder, with the recklessness of someone who does not care for her. Fuck, I’m going to kill him first.

"Fuck, I think we should go, I hear something," one of them says, the nervousness in his voice hinting that a bunch of low-level punks has bested me. These weren't professionals. These were mindless fools who had been sent to get Lily. If they were anything else, anything better, they would kill me first. A real pro would never leave me alive. Not if they knew what I was capable of.

Shouting from the path we took earlier sends the men running, but I fear the head start they have will be too much. When the voices calling my name become clearer and nearer, the elation I feel upon realizing it is Nero, Dante, and Matteo is short-lived. The poison pumps through my system, and I fight to focus my vision, but it is no good. Final thoughts drift through my mind just before I lose consciousness.

They have her. They have my Lily.

Chapter 39

Lily

I have no concept of time, with my bouts of unconsciousness stealing large chunks of it. When I am awake, my whole body aches as if I have been hit by a truck. I imagine that the way in which I am transported is the cause. Sometimes, I am thrown carelessly over a shoulder, and the resulting rib bruising never subsides. When I am placed back on the floor, in a truck, or on whatever dirty surface they put me on, it is with little regard for how hard my body hits it.

But the movement stopped a while ago, so I think I must finally be wherever we are supposed to be.

“Lily.” The sound of my name being whispered nearby finally forces my eyes open.

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