Page 73 of His Captive
Massimo sighs and turns to me. “I dismiss a lot of things by saying it isn’t my style because it’s easier than the details. I’ve shared a lot, but not everything.”
“You owe me that much,” I whisper, tears streaming down my face.
“When I came here, I had no reason to live. My life was shit and you understand why.” He looks down and takes a deep breath. “It wasn’t worth living anymore.”
“And now?” I question through my tears.
“You’ve given meeveryreason to live,bambina,” he sighs. “But it doesn’t change the past, and it’s too late. This protects my family and everything we’ve built.”
“It may do that, but it’s going to tear me apart,” I sniffle. “You’ve given me direction. Now you’re taking it away.”
“Then be directionless, Lea,” he says, walking closer and pulling me into his arms. “Be beautiful, incredible, and let theworldguide your adventure.”
I wish it were that easy. But there’s no reason to keep pleading. I already sound pathetic. I do the only thing I can. I melt into his embrace and cry.
When Massimo finally pulls away, I’m so distraught I can barely stand. But I do, for his sake. I watch him gather his things, walk to the door, and I rush to him on wobbly legs for one last hug.
“Goodbye,bambina,” he whispers. “Wait until you hear the commotion, then take the next shuttle to the boat. They won’t leave on schedule because of the chaos, so there’s no reason to rush.”
“I love you, Massimo,” I whisper back. “But I can’t say goodbye.”
Massimo holds me for several minutes before pulling away. I meet his icy-blue stare one last time and see a glisten that breaks my heart all over again before he leaves the suite.
Then he’s gone.
I collapse where I stand, my knees and ankles crashing into the tiled floor. I catch myself with my hands and sob.
I don’t know how long I stay on the floor. It feels like the world has crashed around me and there is no reason to stand.
I mourn a life I’ll never have. A life I didn’t expect, but one I stumbled into when I let the island guide me on my adventure. My time with Massimo flashes like a montage in my head, but every moment hurts. All I feel is pain.
Time drips by, every minute like another dagger that goes straight through my heart. I eventually summon the strength to stand.
Everything reminds me of Massimo. The bottle of wine we had with dinner, still sitting open on the table. The empty one from the year he was born that we finished before we went to the bedroom.
I can’t bring myself to keep looking around. I cry on my way to my bedroom, crawl on the bed, and cry into my pillow. Big, heaving sobs rack my body while I soak the pillow with my grief.
“I can’t stay here,” I mutter, pushing myself up. “This hurts way too much.”
Massimo told me to wait for the commotion before I leave, but I can’t handle it. The waiting… the continuous heartbreak. I gather my things and make it as far as the couch before I have to stop.
I sink into the couch where he sat when I was over his knee. I’d take any spanking he wanted to give me if it means we could spend one more minute together. I’d even beg for his belt.
My phone chimes on the table behind me. I ignore it. I don’t care who it is. But the chimes continue, then it rings, and when I ignore the call, it starts ringing again.
“It could be Massimo,” I whisper, feeling a tremor of hope.
I walk to the table and see that I have missed calls and texts, but they’re not from Massimo. They’re from Sarah. Even my best friend can’t ease this pain, so I put my phone down without looking at the messages.
The calls and texts keep coming until they’re so distracting, I just want them to stop. I press the button to answer Sarah’s next call, realizing as soon as I do that it’s a video call. I don’t bother hiding my face.
“Lea! Thank God!” Sarah says. “Listen, I found out who killed Massimo’s wife! Well, Cadence helped. Cadence, this is Lea.”
I blink away tears and see Sarah sitting next to a girl about our age with raven-black hair that hangs on her shoulders.
“Hi, Lea,” Cadence says, her face in a tight grimace, probably because I look like a disaster.
“I told you who killed his wife,” I sigh, not elaborating because of Cadence. “And I told you to go home.”
