Page 73 of Inside the Sun

What I need is a solid slap on the head and a long jerking off session.

Because this? This isnotme.

Whatever possesses me has to go, or it’ll be the death of me.

SUN

My head is a mess. Full of chaos, despair, and thoughts I probably shouldn’t be having. But that’s nothing new. I’ve been falling apart for the past two days, since I had to fuck Anzo.

I’m desperate to pull myself out of this black hole, to reclaim some sense of… control and dignity. I just need to get back even a sliver of who I used to be.

Yesterday morning, I was sitting on the patio, trying to relax. It wasn’t working. My body was tense, my breath shallow, everything inside me too loud. And then I noticed him.

The gardener.

The same one I’d seen through the window a couple of times. Only now, I could finally get a proper look at him up close.

He was spraying the plants, focused on his task, completely ignoring me. Not just ignoring, avoiding eye contact altogether. Like he knew I was watching and had already decided I wasn’t worth the risk. But I stared anyway, shamelessly.

Because the guy is seriously hot.

He doesn’t even look like a gardener, if I’m being honest. More like a marine or a firefighter. Or a cop. One of those jobs where your body has to be in peak shape, and his definitely is.

A flat stomach, narrow hips, and ridiculously wide shoulders.

The way he moves is smooth, controlled, almost feline. Despite all the muscle, there’s no heaviness to him. He’s strong but not overdone, built for action.

I could also smell him, but sadly not his pheromones. He’s on suppressants, it’s obvious. My nose didn’t catch even a hint of his Allure, only his natural body scent and shower gel, with a deep forest pine tone. Despite working for hours in the sun, his sweat wasn’t unpleasant. It’s the kind of scent people who work out a lot tend to have. Clean, toxin-free, no sour odor, just the body of a fit, healthy young man. To be honest, I found a strange pleasure in smelling him, to the point I wanted to stand a bit closer.

And his face… damn. Rugged, masculine, cut just the way I like. He’s basically the poster boy for my type, perfectly so.

During the brief conversation we had, I kept watching him even harder. Despite the fact he wouldn’t meet my eyes. It felt almost like he was being stubborn about it.

Guys usually look at me intensely. But he must know I’m Ferro’s toy, that even eyeing me, let alone talking to me, is risky.

And maybe it’s for the best? I should be careful. Flirting is out of the question, even though some part of me is slightly tempted.

But after what happened with Matteo, I became paranoid. That betrayal taught me everything I needed to know. Anyone here could be a trap. This guy might be another one of Anzo’s setups.

A ridiculously hot alpha put right in front of me for temptation. To bait me, check if I’d throw myself at him, begging for help. And then would come the beating, electrocution, hanging.

He’s walking around in that black tank top, tattooed arms sculpted like a damn statue, looking like a centerfold from Bodybuilder Weekly. Too good to be true.

But maybe… just maybe, I could try something else. No flirting, of course! No games.

What if I just made a friend? No strings, just contact with another human being. Someone who doesn’t hit me, or shock me, or use my body like it’s his to break.

But before I even think about that, I have to know: is he asoldato?

So when he showed up by the gazebo, I asked. I probably looked suspicious, as if I was waiting for him, then jumping into a sensitive question, but I don’t care. I need something. Anything to focus on besides the sharp edges of my own unraveling mind. I’m falling apart.

And just before dinner, Anzo had already made me fuck him again. The same as the night before. Forced me into it. Summer was there, thankfully, and helped me get through the whole disgusting act.

But while I was doing it, that hollow feeling inside me got worse. Like I was becoming transparent, the emptiness wasn’t just in me anymore, it was me. Inside and out. I was literally fading into nothing, becoming a ghost of who I used to be.

My will is being broken, and I have no idea how to rebuild myself.

So maybe that’s why this random gardener got stuck in my head? Perhaps my mind was reaching out blindly, trying to grab onto anything, anyone, to anchor itself. Just to keep from falling.

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