Page 99 of Contract of a Billionaire
“Let’s put him to bed,” I murmured softly.
He laid him on the bed, and I pulled the covers over him. He looked so peaceful with a little smile on his face. He was always such a good and easy baby. I was very lucky. I pressed a kiss on his forehead. Alessio’s gaze was so intense that my insides shook. He followed my suit, pressed a kiss on Kol’s forehead, and we both walked it out of his room.
Both of us found ourselves in the kitchen, chest-to-chest. I had to look up to meet his gaze, locking us together. Time lagged, as it always did when I was with him. His fingers fisted my sweater and pulled my body flush with his.
I held my breath, his head slowly bent, lower and lower, until his mouth was a breath away from mine.
I waited. He waited. I wanted him. He wanted me. Yet, nothing was that simple. Not anymore. His mouth brushed against my lips, his kiss gentle and soft.
My heart fluttered. Heat bloomed beneath my skin. My chest grew heavy with that familiar consuming feeling. And all the while, he kissed me like I was something precious to him.
But if that was true, he wouldn’t have cheated. The memory washed over me like a cold shower.
My palms rested against his chest and I pushed him away.
I shook my head. “No,” I told him firmly. I couldn’t venture down the same road and let him burn me again. “I’m here because you blackmailed me, Alessio. But that doesn’t mean, I’ll let you repeat history.Wecan’t repeat the past.”
A long pause followed. The fragile hope that Branka’s words flickered inside me threatened to blow out and all the while my soul shook like a leaf in a wind. There was no point in denying it. I wanted him. I always wanted him. From the moment he barged into my bedroom on my eighteenth birthday.
“I didn’t cheat on you.” A simple statement. The sincerity in his eyes. Honesty in the tone of his voice.
I could have believed it, if I hadn’t seen it with my own two eyes. It was the most damning evidence. Even if in my oblivion and stupidity I wanted to believe him, I couldn’t forget what I had seen.
“I saw you, Alessandro.” My tone was detached. Tired. Hurt. But the flicker of hope refused to extinguish. “Both times. And those words– “
He stilled. The pain that crossed his expression pierced my heart. And it had already been damaged by the very man who stood in front of me, battling his own scars - visible and invisible. I knew he had them. I felt them firsthand.
I turned to leave when Alessio’s fingers wrapped around my wrist, holding me back.
“I’m going to tell you a story,” he said bitterly, his gaze filling with something dark and sardonic. “It’s not a pretty one.”
His left palm, rough and big, cupped my cheek and sorrow filled his gray gaze. It was like staring at the darkening skies, just as a storm was about to break loose. I didn’t like to see pain in his expression, but I knew we wouldn’t be able to move past what had happened four years ago. Not unless he explained - although I couldn’t even fathom what could ever justify cheating.
“My mother was young when she married my father.” Bitterness filled his voice, swirling around us like the old ghosts that lurked in his eyes. Haunting him. “She was already pregnant. With another man’s child.” I held my breath, waiting. Unsure where this story would go. “Senator George Ashford is my biological father. Of course, he wasn’t a senator back then. He was an ambitious prick, willing to destroy anyone and anything while he climbed the ladder. Even an innocent, naive, young woman.”
A sharp gasp escaped me. I hadn’t even realized I lowered myself down into a chair. He paced to the opposite side of the table. As if he needed distance from me. The large kitchen seemed too large yet, at the same time, too small.
Alessio let out a breath, regret lurking in his eyes. He already regretted sharing this story with me and uncertainty grew in my lungs. But I still remained, waiting. Hoping for a miracle. Or maybe for something that would cure me of this need for him.
“Anyhow, he refused to marry her or acknowledge her child. Me. So her parents scrambled to marry her off. To the man who raised me.” The hate in his voice didn’t escape me. Except, I couldn't tell whether it was aimed at his biological father or the man who raised him. Maybe both. “The fucker who raised me, Branka’s father, was a sadistic bastard. He beat my mother for giving her virginity to someone else. He beat me for not being his son. He beat Mia and Branka for being girls instead of the boys he wanted. His favorite form of entertainment was extinguishing cigarettes on me, on them. But his hate towards me ran deeper than most.”
Uncertainty slithered through my veins. I knew his father was sadistic but I had a feeling that didn’t even scratch the surface.
“I was about thirteen when my father’s beatings turned into something worse.” I swallowed a lump in my throat as dread grew within me. “He trafficked women. As young as he could get them. And he loved breaking them.” My chest went cold as terror and fear bubbled up inside me. “The first time I dared to stand up to him, he drugged me. Rohypnol and Viagra. The next morning, I woke up naked with a girl beaten black and blue, and her thighs bloodied.”
Horror swelled in my chest. The backs of my eyes burned. Alessio’s eyes flared with contempt. “Don’t pity me.”
I couldn’t say a word so I just shook my head. I didn’t pity him but my heart ached for the young boy who had to suffer through it. Alone.
“It took me a while to learn never to take a drink from my father. Or any of his men.” Silence stretched. I didn’t dare to ask him how long wasawhile. “There are many men like him in this world, Autumn. So I promised myself, I’d become stronger, more powerful and more ruthless than him. Eventually, I put an end to his trafficking, but there is nothing that will absolve me of those sins. Those women, virgins, I can’t even remember.”
Jesus Christ.
I didn’t even know what to say. How to comfort him. I couldn’t blame him though. He was a kid. He should have been protected.
A grimace touched his lips as he continued, “Unfortunately, I forgot the fucking lesson. I thought myself invincible. Four years ago, that sadistic bastard bribed a couple - husband and wife - to slip me the same drug.”
Alessio Russo didn’t cheat. He was… Jesus, he was raped. And I just left him. Oh my gosh, I could have saved him. Instead, I left him.
