Page 35 of Forbidden

“Fuck you,” I snarl, spitting at his feet.

He moves fast, smashing the gun’s handle into my temple. Pain explodes, white-hot and blinding. My knees buckle as I crumple. The world spins as blood trickles warm down my cheek. I hear them muttering, their boots scuffling, before everything fades to black.

I wake up to sterile lights and the sharp sting of antiseptic. My head throbs, a dull ache pulsing where the bastard clocked me. I’m in a hospital bed with tubes snaking from my arm and a scratchy blanket pulled up. Adriano sits beside me, his chair shoved close, those gray eyes burning with a fury I can feel across the room.

“Who did this?” he demands, his voice rough. He leans forward, elbows digging into his thighs. “Tell me now, Penelope.”

I turn my head away, staring at the beige wall. “I want to be alone.”

“Fuck that.” He stands, looming over the bed, his shadow swallowing me. “Someone put you here. I’m going to find them and rip their goddamn throats out. Tell me who.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, the ache in my skull flaring. His anger is a storm, but I’m too raw to face it. “Just leave, Adriano.”

“No.” He grabs the bedrail. “I’m burning this city down till I get them. You do not get to shut me out. Talk.”

I open my eyes, glaring up at him. “It was Ricci’s guys. They jumped me after work. Happy now?”

His jaw tightens, a muscle ticking. “What did they want?”

I hesitate, my throat dry. “They think I killed Theo. Wanted to know how I did it and how I made it look like an accident. They were fishing for proof that someone helped me.”

He freezes, eyes narrowing. “And you said?”

“Nothing.” I sit up, wincing as pain stabs my head. “I told them I did it alone. They did not buy it, but I was not giving you up.”

“You should have,” he snaps, voice rising. “You should have thrown my name at them and ran.”

I laugh, bitter and short. “Right. Because that would have stopped them from smashing my head in? They would have hurt me either way, Adriano. They were pissed. Theo was Ricci’s son.”

He stares at me. “You protected me. Why?”

I look away, my fingers twisting the blanket. “Because you are mine to hate. Not theirs.”

He goes quiet, like the space is uncomfortable between us. Then he sits back down, then drags the chair closer until his knees bump the bed.

“You are a damn idiot,” he mutters. “Risking yourself for me.”

“Yeah, well, you are not exactly a prize either,” I shoot back, meeting his eyes. “What are we even doing? This is not some fairy tale. You are a killer, and I’m… what? The dumbass who keeps coming back?”

“You are the pain in my ass who does not know when to quit.”

I scoff, but it hurts—deep, where the truth lives. “If Sophia could see us, she would hate me. She would say I’m shitting on her grave, screwing her dad like this.”

His face hardens, but he does not look away. “She would hate me more. For touching you and needing you like air. For wanting you this bad.”

I swallow hard. Her last words were, “You two deserve each other.”

“Maybe she was right to run from us. That night… I let her go and did not pick up her call after she stormed out. You did, too. And now we are drowning in it, fucking each other like it fixes anything.”

He stiffens. “That is all you think this is? Just fucking?” His voice cuts and he’s pissed, like I slapped him.

I laugh, coldly. “So what is it then? Love?” I lean forward, my head throbbing but my words flat. “Oh please, Adriano. I do not deserve love. I killed my own father, for God’s sake. I’m nothing but a whore who got her best friend dead too and now I’m screwing her dad to top it off.”

He moves fast, his hand snapping up to hold my jaw, fingers pressing into my skin. “Do not ever talk about yourself like that,” he growls, his breath hot on my face. A tear slips free, burning down my cheek, and he leans in, licking it off slowly, tasting my shame. “You are my goddamn sickness, Penelope. I’d carve my chest open just to keep you in it.”

His tongue lingers, salty and possessive, his eyes wild with something mysterious and sweet all at once.

I freeze, my pulse hammering, caught between shoving him off and pulling him closer. “You are insane,” I whisper, my voice cracking.

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