Page 11 of Forbidden Property
“Geralynn!” Nicki shrieks when she sees me, momentarily numbing my anger at her brother, because Nicki is the complete opposite of that idiot. She wraps her arms around me and I smell the liquor on her breath as she holds me close. I hug her back, forgetting my work problems for a second. We have huge plans to share a joint on the dock tonight and I can already feel my troubles melting away from the anticipation.
“Taylor Swift. Talking to Renzo. Are you having a psychotic break?”
Nicki sobs into my shoulder. Okay… she might be having a psychotic break. I’m still not sure. I hold Nicki away from me, gripping her shoulders as I look into her eyes. Something is definitely wrong, but I can’t tell what just from staring at her.
“I’m in trouble, Geralynn,” she says. “But… if I tell you… Renzo will hear.”
She whispers the last three words, confirming my suspicions that this house is essentially wire-tapped. Her family seems absolutely paranoid that something will happen to Nicki. Either that, or she’s just a prisoner. My heart pounds with the realization that Nicki’s long stay with her brother might not be entirely intentional. Despite her warning, I drop my voice and try to get more information out of her.
That could be why Renzo wants to keep me away. If Nicki is a prisoner here… she’ll eventually crack and try to escape. Anyone who knows Nicki Taviani would guess that, including her brother.
I whisper, hoping that the cameras here don’t have strong microphones. “Nicki. Are you allowed to leave… ever? I mean… are they allowed to hold you captive?”
Nicki leans in like she’s about to tell me the truth.
“We can’t talk about it,” she says, her voice dropping to match my low whisper.
And that’s apparently it, which doesn’t really work for me, because I still want answers…
Chapter Five
Renzo
Idon’t feel good about Geralynn’s visit tonight. I don’t trust my sister’s waterworks, and their hushed conversation only increases my suspicions. If I screw up keeping track of my sister for a full year, I’ll face my father’s wrath. It’s the last thing I want to happen, especially since my idiotic cousin Michael received a promotion to my father’s underboss after all I suffered to prove myself to him.
It’s enough to make me want Michael dead. I suspect that’s why dad wants me distracted with Nicki’s long-term care. Regardless of the reason why I’m in this position, I’m stuck taking care of an unruly Italian woman who disgusts me with the way she carries herself. We would be better off breaking her. Nicki’s attitude would improve with a man who could take control over her.
I stand on the balcony off my top floor bedroom to look over their little spot on the dock where they smoke weed and engage in degenerate female behavior. The corrupting nature of their cultural mixing is readily apparent from my spot. Staring down at them through my binoculars fills me with rage that I could almost mistake for a jealous rage if I wasn’t so profoundly in touch with my loathing for her friend Geralynn.
The janitor. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me, honestly. I find her completely repulsive for several reasons. Nicki loves her, which only makes it worse. I don’t know how anyone can do such low work yet feel comfortable walking through my house without automatically averting her gaze. It doesn’t bother me that a woman like Geralynn would be a servant.
I don’t think she’s suited for anything better than servitude. What I loathe about Geralynn is that she doesn’t carry herself with the appropriate humility for her station. She never averts her gaze automatically. She doesn’t seem to hold any regard for the money and power that elevate my status over hers. Nicki encourages this behavior when she should be taking this time to get serious about her life. If she doesn’t want to end up like Angela, she’ll have to do something other than smoke weed and listen tobratby CharliXCX as loud as her speakers can go.
Geralynn tousles her hair in the distance, unraveling the tight bun she wore to work and infuriating me once more with how casual she remains. It doesn’t normally bother me when Nicki keeps secrets, but I suspect dad’s plan to force me to become more responsible might be working. I’m suddenly invested in her whispers and in whatever secrets she’s sharing with that brown-skinned low class friend of hers.
Watching them on the dock alternates between boring and infuriating. I occasionally hear echoes of laughter, but I can’t make out any details of their conversation. Plumes of white smoke seep out of their secret little conclave, arousing my anger further. I storm off the balcony to my private en suite bathroom for some quiet and distance from their annoying giggling ways.
I’m almost old enough to request a wife from Italy and that’s what I want – a traditional wife in every sense of the word. I have no interest in my wife having any rights within my home or mybedroom. I have no interest in yielding any control, especially in matters of my household.
Weakness ultimately killed Pino Corsini. I have no proof, but my instincts are strong about what happened to him. Michael happened. I’m lucky that I convinced him to spare my life and perhaps luckier that I have a father who cares about me enough to warn me how to stay out of harm’s way. I can have my traditional beliefs, but I have to understand the limits of my power and understand that power shifts over time.
You have to be smart and plan for the future. I walk into the shower with multiple heads of water pointing at me as I step onto the white marble tiles. I strip my clothes and rest them on the wooden bench on one corner of the open shower where I hang my towel and robe. That janitor is a waste of Nicki’s time.
Jacking off would be a better use of my time than worrying about what Nicki gets up to on the dock. I doubt she would be smoking weed if she kept better company. Unfortunaetly, the last time I kept Nicki’s weed away from her, she acted like a fucking ghoul. It’s not worth the fight. I would have to break her spirit a lot more for her to accept a fate of total sobriety like my own.
When I step underneath the streams of water, the heat massages me from all sides. I used to lift heavy before Italy, but it’s not common to work out like that in Europe. I switched over to plyometrics, leaning out my abdomen and maintaining an extremely muscular physique with consumption of an exact number of calories a day (plus a multivitamin). My “preworkout” became a shot of espresso and half a banana over in Europe. I’ve never been more pleased with how I look than my years in college.
Gino returned to the gym with our cousins Peter and Michael, but I prefer working out alone and staying a lot leaner and more agile than my brother. I’m faster without asmuch muscle on my frame and because of my size, it’s easy to physically disable most people. Maybe that’s what I could do to Geralynn.
Scare her. Use my body against her to terrify her. She won’t want to get within ten feet of me if I traumatize her properly. My cock stiffens against my will. A dark idea for how I could scare Geralynn away from our home for good pulses through my head. My cock responds by getting harder and my hand wanders down as the sick thoughts of scaring Geralynn enter my head.
I could get them both drunk to start off. Offer to give Geralynn a ride home… My thoughts get darker. I would never. I could never go all the way. I wouldn’t. Outside of my dark fantasies, I would just scare her. In the shower, I can take my depraved desires to their furthest limit.
Acting on this type of thing could get me sent to jail. Scaring Geralynn is legal. Holding a gun to her head and forcing her into the backseat of my car wouldn’t just be depraved in every sense of the word, it would be illegal. I could never watch her face twist in fear and I would never really revel in the utter control threatening her life would give me over Geralynn’s body.
That cocky self-assured smile that she’s so much more progressive and superior to me would disappear. I could add to her humiliation by forcing her to call herself my sloppy little maid, only good for cleaning my cock with her mouth. By that point, tears would pierce through her eyes and the dark realization would settle over her that there’s nothing she can do to save herself.
My balls tighten against my body. Does it really take that little to push me over the edge these days? My eyes are closed with nothing but my fantasies. I can’t push Geralynn out of my head. Her lips are around my cock as she sobs in this fantasy and within a few seconds of just imagining her mouth making contact with me, I erupt everywhere.
