Monster in Disguise

24. Marcello

Marcello

W ith a heavy heart, I retreat to the safety of my room before I can do any further damage to my fragile relationship with Catalina. The air is thick with tension and my fists clench at my sides, ready to release the built-up frustration.

My fingers form a tight fist and I punch the wall, welcoming the sharp sensation of pain that briefly takes over my mind. It's a welcome distraction from the swirling thoughts that threaten to consume me.

But perhaps I deserve this pain. After all, what was Catalina thinking, trying to please me in such a way? Sweet, innocent Catalina, on her knees before me. How many times had I fantasized about just that? But seeing her there, struggling to choke down my cock out of some misguided sense of inadequacy...I couldn't let her continue.

And then she had to mention the orgies. A bitter laugh escapes my lips at the absurdity. Did she truly think I would be interested in those depravities? If only she knew...

I shake my head, feeling a strange mix of amusement and disgust at the irony of it all.

Most of my past experiences are nothing more than a blur in my mind now. I'm not proud to admit it, but at some point, drugs and alcohol became necessary tools to make it through those hedonistic gatherings. Whatever memories weren't blacked out by overindulgence were surely buried deep within my subconscious.

My lip curls in disgust as I recall unwanted hands roaming over my body.

No, I refuse to dwell on those memories.

But despite everything, I owe Lina an apology for my harsh words earlier. I know I was too brusque with her. In fact, I almost revealed the truth about my decade-long infatuation with her.

This day has been filled with one complication after another—from Lina's nightmare to Benedicto's unexpected visit, and now to the discovery of some questionable paperwork. I'd managed to calm myself down a little regarding the first two, but the document I'd found had made me restless.

Restless enough that I'd almost snapped at the only person I'd never snap at.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to calm the tension that is already building in my body. My hand reaches for the drawer where I keep my stash of burner phones, and I pull one out and start dialing Francesco's number.

He answers after a few rings.

"Yes?"

"Did Valentino ever mention anything about visiting an asylum?"

There is a brief pause on the other end.

"Yes, he used to visit one a few times a year. Why do you ask?"

"Do you know who he was visiting there?"

"No, I accompanied him a couple of times but I never went inside."

"I see," I respond grimly. "I need to go there too. Meet me at the asylum tomorrow at ten."

"Understood."

I hang up, feeling even more agitated than before.

"Damn it!" I curse under my breath.

Quickly getting dressed, I make my way to my study. I grab the document I had found earlier and read over it again.

Male. Fifty-seven years old. Born on November second.

Just like my father.

The same man I thought I had killed.

The man who had turned me into a monster; who had taught me everything about torture and murder.

The man who was closely familiar with Chimera.

"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" Frustration boils within me as I throw the document onto the table. How did I not consider this before? Yes, I left him to die, but I never received confirmation that he did. When Valentino took over, I just assumed that was the case.

"Fucking hell!" My teeth grind together as anger courses through me, directed mainly towards myself. Because of my recklessness, my family is now in danger. Again.

Of course.

My father would be first in line to want revenge against me, and his expertise lies in psychological torture. Not only did I betray him, but I also attempted to end his life. If this man is truly my father...

I shake my head, feeling a wave of fear wash over me at the thought. But I need to be certain. I need to see with my own eyes if this man is indeed my father. And if he is, then I will make sure he stays dead – this time for good.

The following day I meet Francesco at the asylum.

As we make our way inside, I turn to him and ask, "And you never knew whom he visited?"

"No," Francesco answers, a hint of regret in his voice. "Valentino was very secretive about this. It's why I was the only man he'd take with him." My suspicions are confirmed. There's no way the famiglia would have turned a blind eye if their beloved patriarch was still alive.

Tino, Tino... it seems you did betray me.

I try to mask my emotions as I fill out the paperwork and provide details about my relationship with the patient. In truth, I am bluffing, as I have yet to confirm his identity. But time will tell if this is the truth or just another lie.

"He's been making great progress," a nurse informs me cheerfully. "He's been eating all his meals without any issues." She continues to chatter away about mundane details that hold no interest for me. Tuning her out, I focus on the man behind the closed doors.

"Here we are. Let me know if he feels unwell or experiences any discomfort."

I nod in response and enter the room, leaving Francesco waiting outside.

As I approach the window, I catch sight of a man in a wheelchair facing away from me. Reluctantly, I step closer and notice that his head is tilted at an odd angle.

Flashbacks of that fateful night come rushing back, but I push them aside and steel myself for what lies ahead.

When I finally stand in front of him, I can hardly believe my eyes. My father, alive and breathing before me. His eyes widen with recognition when I lower myself to his level, but his mouth trembles wordlessly. His hands shake on the armrests as though willing his body to move, but it remains frozen in place.

The doctor in charge had filled me in. Paralysis likely caused by brain injury. It seems I did some damage after all. He'd also told me that although father can't move or communicate, he can understand me.

"So we meet again, father." My voice is full of the hatred I have for the man – hatred that's festered even more in the last ten years.

His pupils move wildly from right to left, knowing this will not be a friendly visit.

"Finally, it's not me who's afraid," I casually comment and lean on the windowsill, blocking the light.

I wonder what it's going to take for him to break free of this ruse. I need to know he's definitely incapacitated. Regardless, his fate will be the same.

"How would you feel..." I pause, observing the pulse at the base of his throat. "If I put to work everything you've taught me." The only reaction I'm getting is the quick fluttering of his eyelids and his sudden intake of breath. Nevertheless, it's telling me all I need to know.

"Remember when you suggested I use teeth for the mark of the Chimera? I wonder, will you even feel if I pull your teeth out one at a time?" I remove a pair of pliers from my coat. I'd come prepared.

Drops of liquid hit the floor. I turn my gaze downwards.

"So this is how you react when you're on the receiving end. You piss yourself." I make a tsk sound, opening the pliers and moving them closer to his face.

"Let's see, if this makes you piss yourself, what will it take to cause a heart attack?" He pales even more at my words, and I don't know whether to cry or to laugh at this. I'm finally confronting the man who's made my entire life hell, and I can't even do it properly. What satisfaction will I get from killing a man in a wheelchair? None.

But kill him I must.

Disgusted with the situation, I go outside and signal Francesco.

"It's done," he says. I give him a tight nod, and then I grab onto the wheelchair's handles, leading father out of the room.

While I'd been getting reacquainted with him, Francesco had been settling the paperwork to release father into our care.

We leave as the picture of family happiness, and I instruct Francesco to make a few turns until we are close to a secluded forest.

As we get father out of the car, I'm struck again by a pang of regret at this pity kill. How many times had I imagined paying him back for everything he'd done to me? How many times had I prayed for a chance to put him in his place?

And now, as I look upon his pathetic self, I can't even muster the hate anymore.

One bullet and he's dead. His head shoots back with the velocity of the bullet, and his body spasms once more before his eyes turn blank. This time forever.

With a sigh, I nod to Francesco to get rid of the body and the wheelchair. I return to the car and, putting my head in my palms, I cry.

I let it all go— three decades of torture at the hands of this man. And the sad truth is that I don't think I'll ever get rid of the mark he's left on me.

Pulling myself together before Francesco returns, I direct him to take me home. There's only one thing I need right now – her.

When I open her door, I find her on the bed, focused on a piece she's sewing. She jumps up a little, startled to see me.

"Is there something wrong?" Lina turns to me, a little frown forming between her brows. She holds herself still, her entire body stiff.

We'd slept in separate beds the night before. Mostly because I'd been so ashamed of myself, I couldn't bring myself to face her.

But now it's over. It's finally over.

And my past will remain just that – the past.

"Can I come in?"

She gives a brisk nod, her eyes still regarding me suspiciously.

As she sees me walking towards her, she puts away her work on a nearby chair. I take this as an invitation to sit down.

Her hands are tightly folded in her lap, her chin slightly lowered.

My heart races as I reach for her hands. My palm covers hers in a gentle gesture of comfort and understanding.

"I'm sorry," I say, my voice soft and contrite. "I should have said this sooner."

Lina's eyes meet mine, filled with a mix of emotions. "I'm sorry too," she murmurs. "I shouldn't have just assumed..."

"Hey, no more of that," I interrupt firmly. "I realize you don't know a lot about me, and of course you'd be curious."

Lina shakes her head, her gaze dropping to our linked hands. Her fingers intertwine with mine, as if seeking reassurance.

"I shouldn't have let Cosima's words get to me," she continues, her voice strained. "I should have thought before I acted."

I can see the weight of her apology in her eyes, and without thinking, I pull her into a hug. She stiffens at first but then relaxes into my embrace.

"I know that we were both thrown together into this marriage by circumstances," she whispers against my shoulder. "But I think...never mind."

"Lina, you don't have to hide from me," I urge gently. But it's clear she's not ready to open up yet.

A strained smile tugs at her lips as she turns to face me again. "It's fine, really. We just had our first disagreement," she says lightly.

"Am I forgiven?" I ask tentatively.

She tilts her head to the side, considering me for a moment before surprising me with a quick peck on the cheek.

"I quite liked that," she teases with a hint of playfulness in her tone. "Do you think I can get a repeat?"

I chuckle at her cheekiness and wrap my arms around her once more. This time, when she leans in for another kiss, I'm ready for her. Our lips meet in a gentle, tender embrace, and I can feel the warmth of her body against mine as she molds herself to my chest. My hand moves up, cupping her neck before settling on her cheek.

Her eyes flutter open, the green of her irises so intense it's almost blinding. How many times had I dreamed of this? Of her lovely eyes staring into mine? Of holding her in my arms, our skin touching, our breaths mingling?

My thumb glides gently over her lips, parting them in anticipation. She responds by flicking out her tongue, barely grazing the tip of my finger. But then she surprises me by taking my thumb into her mouth, sucking on it lightly. Her eyes widen with curiosity and innocence as she gazes up at me.

I can't help but groan in response to her bold move.

"Oh, the things you do to me, Lina," I rasp out.

"Good things, I hope," she quips back playfully.

"The best." Leaning in for a kiss, we are interrupted by a knock at the door.

Damn!

"Come in," Lina calls out, pulling away from me and composing herself.

Claudia peeks her head through the door, interrupting our intimate moment.

"Why aren't you with Sisi?" Lina asks with a slight frown as Claudia steps inside the room.

Claudia rocks back and forth on her heels, wearing a sheepish expression.

"Aunt Sisi has a visitor."

"A visitor?" I repeat, surprised by this news.

"Yes. Her friend Rafaelo. She told me to go to my room, but I'm so bored," Claudia shrugs nonchalantly, looking like a spitting image of Catalina.

"Did you know about the visit?" I ask Lina, but she shakes her head.

I get up, intent on seeing what this is all about, but Lina stops me.

"Let's give them some time. I'm sure nothing untoward will happen. Besides, the staff is downstairs."

"But..." I trail off as she bats her eyelashes at me, making me lose myself in her gorgeous eyes.

She's not playing fair.

"I'll just inform Amelia to monitor them," I relent a little.

"Will you play with us, Marcello?" Claudia comes by her mother's side, picking up the piece Lina had been working on. I sneak a glance at Lina, and she gives me a small nod.

"I guess I am."

"Cool." Claudia's beaming smile swallows me whole, and I return the gesture.

I find that I've smiled these past few months more than I've ever done in my entire life.

And there's only one reason for it. Well, now two.