Raw Bloody Power

Chapter 32

32

MASK OFF

Ivory

“I think this one is my favorite,” Lucia says, maneuvering the stroller around the brightly lit space. “All this natural light just makes it so warm and inviting.”

“And it’s still in Soho like you wanted,” my mom adds.

I take another look around, nodding in concession. This location has two massive windows with the door centralized between them, rather than one like the old bakery. It’s also a literal block over, which is kinda perfect. I can picture the price board and all the display cases perfectly, and there’s even room for more than two small tables. Five comfortably, for sure. Maybe six. The kitchen’s a good size, too. Should fit everything I need back there. “I like it.”

Mom slides an arm around my shoulder and pulls me into her side. “So is this the one?” Her question beams with a smile.

“Possibly. We still have one more to look at, though.” I don’t wanna jump the gun. This is too important. I’m pulling from my trust fund for this, something I said I’d never do. It’s either that or withdraw from what Nonna left me, and while I know she’d be thrilled I used my inheritance for something that brings me joy, I wanted to save it, allow it to collect interest.

“I’m down to keep looking, but can we grab something to eat first?” Lucia queries. “My boobs are gonna explode if I didn’t feed your niece soon.”

Kat fusses on cue, too, as if she were a paid actor, prompting us all out the door into the crisp afternoon. It’s one of those blue sky, cloudless days, warm rays from the sun beaming down yet the true extent of the heat blocked by the cool, fall air. I could live in this weather.

“What do you guys wanna eat? There’s a good pizza spot up ahead.”

“For the love of God, Ivory, no,” my mom groans. “Please, no.”

“I second that,” Lucia adds, bent over the stroller as my niece makes it known to the world she’s not happy at the moment.

That newborn cry is no joke.

“Why does everyone hate on pizza?” I’m genuinely confused. Who doesn’t love bread, sauce, and cheese? It’s a no brainer.

“‘Cause you eat it all the time,” Ma laughs. “At least twice a week there’s a pizza box sitting on the counter.”

Again, no brainer. I could eat pizza every damn day. Probably why my belly isn’t a flat, smooth plane like it was a decade ago, but I truly don’t give a shit.

Rio seems to like it, too, that little voice in my head whispers.

Stop it.

“I’d be down, but the sauce is too acidic for Kat to handle. Last two times your brother and I ordered a pie, she was up with colic for hours. I’d very much like to sleep tonight.”

“That child is the only reason I’m not arguing with you,” I emit with a laugh. “There’s a little coffee shop right next to the pizzeria called Brookie’s. They have sandwiches and salads.”

“Midday coffee? Yes, please.” That comes from my mom—now you know who I get it from—while Lucia makes this little whine of protest in the back of her throat and shakes her head solemnly.

“Coffee’s out for me, too, but I can down three salads right about now. I’m starving.”

Couldn’t be me. I would die without coffee.

“So what you’re saying without actually telling me is I shouldn’t have kids? Because I’m definitely not giving up coffee, and you guys can pry pizza out of my cold, dead hand?—”

Thwack!

Ma’s hand.

The back of my head.

I should’ve known that was coming.

“Do not even joke with me about no grandchildren!” I swear she growls it, throwing Lucia and me into a fit of giggles .

“Ivory!” a familiar voice belts out then just as we’re approaching Brookie’s.

I stop dead in my tracks and suck in an audible heap of air right as my heart free falls. My stomach flops, too , and all the color drains from my face as I turn to meet Benedikt’s approaching form. He’s as handsome as the last time I saw him, clad in a navy suit, white shirt unbuttoned, no tie.

And yet…I feel nothing.

That little flame I’d been trying so hard to ignite was extinguished the moment I smelled narcissist through his text messages. We haven’t spoken a word to one another since that day.

“Benedikt…” I breathe. “What are you doing here?”

Flashing me that wolfish grin, those icy blues seem all the more bright beneath the sun. “I was just having lunch across the street with a friend.” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder, motioning toward some mom and pop sub shop.

“Ivory, are you going to introduce us?” my mom pipes up eagerly, slipping an arm through mine.

“Right, yeah.” I bob my head, swallowing down one hell of an abrasive lump now caught in my throat. “Mom, Lucia, this is Benedikt. We went out on a date a few of weeks ago. Benedikt, this is my mom and my sister-in-law.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Belucci.” He extends a hand her way. They shake as she returns the sentiment with a pleased—more like absolutely-fucking-tickled —smile stretching her mauve stained lips. “Mrs. Belucci as well, yes?” He asks Lucia, to which she nods as they shake hands, too.

“I would invite you to join us, Benedikt, but you’ve already eaten, it seems. Care for some coffee?” Mom offers.

“Oh, no, I have to get back to work here shortly. I would like a quick word with Ivory, though, if that’s okay with you?”

“Of course, by all means.” She waves him off. “Ivory, we’ll be inside.” A hasty pinch to my arm, and they’re gone, leaving me with the man I’d prefer not to be left alone with.

Evidently, alone and out of sight is exactly what he wants. The door’s barely shut behind Lucia and the stroller before he drags me into the narrow alleyway between the cafe and the pizzeria, his grasp on my arm far from gentle.

“So, are we just never gonna talk again?”

“No, I’ve just been b?—”

“Busy, I know,” he cuts me off. “A text takes two seconds, malish.”

Takes everything in me not to visibly cringe at the pet name as I nod in concession, hoping that, if he’s appeased, he’ll leave me be. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m a little stressed and tend to pull away when I get overwhelmed.”

Not a lie. It’s a defect of mine, one I take full responsibility for.

“I can help with the stress, you know? Take your mind off things.” Benedikt’s hands falls to my hips then. He leans in closer, his lips intently seeking out mine .

But I turn away before they touch down, my eyes squeezing shut.

It’s not until I hear the scoffed laugh, feel it puff against my cheek that I truly realize what I’ve done. “Wow…so it’s like that now?” The underlying lethal edge to his tone can’t be mistaken, throwing up another set of red flags.

A second barbed lump scrapes down my throat as I swallow through the rapidly growing sense of unease and brace myself to look him in the eye. His gaze shreds into me, stealing my breath in the worst way possible. “Benedikt, I…”

“You what?” His hands seal around my biceps anew, thrusting me into the bricks at my back with such force, my head slams against them painfully, to the point my vision speckles and blurs. “Less than two weeks ago, you were all over me, begging me to fuck you. Remember that? And now you, apparently, can’t stand the thought of kissing me? What the fuck happened since then?”

Alarm bells blare with an incoming storm.

My heart rate skyrockets, skull throbbing. His grip on my arms is steely and unrelenting, sure to leave a mark. I try wriggling free, but I’m no match against his strength. I can’t even kick him in the nuts with the way he has me pinned. At my lack of reply, he continues, inching himself closer, the tips of our noses brushing.

“Was it Guerra? Did he turn you against me?” he seethes.

The mention of Rio roils my stomach all over again. “No.” I shake my head as convincingly as I can manage. “I told you he’s had it out for me forever. ”

Had. Past tense. He had it out for you. Everything’s changed and you know it, my subconscious hisses. I nearly wince at the verity of that statement and make quick work of mentally shoving her down into her little box where she belongs.

The peanut gallery has no place here right now.

“Then what is it? Why the sudden change of heart, malish?” he growls, locking a hand around my throat.

Not in the good way, either.

Harder and harder he squeezes until I’m gasping, both my brain and lungs screaming for air. My instincts scream: claw him, kick him, anything, but every move I make is either blocked or impossible. He’s lithe and every bit the strong, virulent man his exterior depicts him to be.

I’m gonna pass out. I’m gonna fucking pass out.

I tap at his hand repeatedly, beseeching him with my eyes to let me go. He does, but not before gritting, “I’m not here to play silly little games, Ivory. I’m a grown ass man dating with intent, looking for my fucking wife. For a second there, I thought it could be you given the fact you’re no stranger to my lifestyle and understand the ins and outs of it. It would appear I was mistaken, though, huh? So let me be clear…if you don’t want this anymore, this meaning me, then man up and say it. That, or prove me wrong and show me you give a fuck. Call me when you figure it out.”

And then he’s gone, leaving me a breathless, trembling mess against the brickwork with a newfound sense of fear settled deep in my bones. This isn’t the last I’ll see of Benedikt. That much is clear. He’s gunning for me, and I have a feeling he won’t stop until he has trapped within the confines of a gilded cage, free to do with me as he pleases.

Rio

Petal…

Me

Didn’t I tell you that name was off the table?

Does it look like I give af? I’ll call you Petal, princess, baby, my little slut, my good girl *cause we know you love that one* whenever tf I want. Get over it.

What do you want, Rio?

What are you doing tonight?

Nothing. I don’t feel good.

What’s wrong?

Benedikt—that’s what’s wrong. It’s been hours since he cornered me in that alley, and I’m still on edge. I holed myself up in my room after the fact, tucked beneath the safety of my sheets with a splitting headache. It’s eased up since then. The anxiety rippling through my body however? Not so much.

You were right.

I don’t know why I send it, why I feel the need to admit it. Probably the same reason why I finally added his number into my contacts, one I don’t want to admit. He doesn’t give me much time to contemplate it, though, his reply popping up less than a minute later.

About?

Benedikt.

In literal seconds, he’s calling, shooting my heart up to my throat. I can’t deal with his undoubted interrogation right now. I don’t have it in me, hitting the decline button with a quick thumb and typing out a bullshit text.

I can’t answer. I’m not alone.

What the fuck happened?

I’ll tell you later.

No. You’re gunna tell me right NOW.

Excuse me while I go walk into oncoming traffic…

I should’ve known better than to open my mouth.

Bossy ass.

He ambushed me, okay?

What do you mean he AMBUSHED you? When?

Earlier this afternoon. I was out with my mom and my SIL. We were on our way to lunch when he showed up out of nowhere.

And…? OUT WITH IT, IVORY. WHAT DID HE DO?

He wanted to talk, but when he didn’t get his way, things took a rough turn.

The delivered notification pops up, followed by ‘Read’. I’m expecting him to call again, thumb at the ready to decline it a second time, but nothing happens. Not even three little dots bouncing on the screen. For a fleeting moment, I’m confused until suddenly, the ‘Read’ symbol seems brighter.

Louder.

Obvious.

Dropping my heart to the dark pit of my stomach.

No, no, no, the thought blares like a siren at the forefront of my mind as I send type out another text, hopefully before he does anything stupid.

Rio…

‘Delivered’.

Never read.

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