Cherish

2. Arsen

2

Arsen

I stand by the window of the Belvedere Hotel penthouse suite, looking out at the sunrise. Well, it’s not really the sunrise any longer. It’s officially the morning, as the sunlight blossoms over the oak trees on St. Charles Avenue. As I watch the street below, a streetcar stops, letting people off and picking a few up.

The Belvedere penthouse is only ten stories, so I sip my coffee and look down on the people below like some kind of demigod. A few people are up and moving this way or that, crossing the street to get to their service industry jobs. Maybe coming back from late-night employment in the French Quarter, who knows.

Behind me, Fiore stirs in the bed. I turn my head and look at her, but she’s still just a lump beneath the covers. I slept in the other room for a few hours, afraid almost to leave her alone for too long. She seemed more fragile than ever in the moments just after she killed Tony, desperate and lonely and insane with grief.

When I came back, I was relieved to find her still breathing. She had tunneled under the comforter, restlessly tossing and turning in her sleep. So, I ordered coffee from room service and stood guard.

Keeping a watch, if you will.

I frown at the people walking down below, ruminating on the events of yesterday. I’m not sure how Fiore came to save my life, especially when she could’ve had her brother in my stead. How she could point a weapon at the two of us and shoot Tony, I’m not sure.

But I am grateful, after a fashion.

Who would have guessed that the girl I abducted could be the girl that saved my f*****g life later? Not me, of that I am certain.

I must admit, seeing her after she pulled the trigger… watching the horror on her face when she realized the gravity of what she’d done…

There is something about killing a person, a person who’s not attacking you, that just changes you forever. Watching the indelible marks of unquestionable murder sink in on Fiore’s face was both painful and beautiful.

Now, she truly belongs to me in a way that she didn’t before. A deep pool of emotion stirs beneath my surface, though I am careful not to let it show.

I am nothing if not a vigilant man.

Pulling out my cell phone, I text Bill, my “fixer”, asking for an update. He replies almost instantly, saying that the house has been cleaned thoroughly and the body disposed of.

I release a heavy breath, setting my coffee down on the table by the window. Fiore stirs again, yawns, and uncovers her face.

Her eyes search for me. When she finds me, she looks a little surprised.

“You’re here.” It comes out low and breathy.

“You seem surprised,” I say, walking over to the bed. I stare down at her, pinning her with my gaze.

“No. Not exactly,” she says, sitting up. She pushes her fingers through her hair. “God. I need a shower.”

I incline my head toward the bathroom. “It’s that way. I have some new clothes for you, whenever you’re ready.”

She just nods, shivering a bit as she sheds the blanket. She’s completely naked, bare before my eyes. She stands up. She’s f*****g stunning, not that I needed any reminder. Her skin is milky and pale, her breasts like two teardrops, her ass jutting out in just enough for a handful.

She doesn’t shield herself from my eyes as she pads over to the bathroom, but she doesn’t make eye contact either. Though I am stirred by her naked body, as I always am, I don’t say anything.

I just let her go, knowing that she has plenty on her mind after last night. Besides, there is plenty of time for frolicking.

I realize that in the back of my mind, I no longer think that Fiore has to die to serve my purposes. I think that Katherine Carolla died some time ago. And I rebuilt her remains into Fiore, this fiery little b***h. A girl who knows my predilections, who understands my wants and needs. She has proven herself, time and again.

She’s done everything I’ve wanted, and yet… it still isn’t enough. Perhaps if she wore something that would tell everyone who saw her that she was mine… I think of the collar that I brought for her, a simple and elegant white gold band.

If she wears it, will that be enough?

I hear a loud sound come from the bathroom. Something shatters, and I hear Fiore curse. Striding over to the door, I open it to find Fiore sitting on the edge of the bathtub, a piece of porcelain broken into a million pieces at her feet. Behind her, the bathtub is filled with gently steaming water.

She’s in tears and bleeding all over the place from cuts in her palms and fingers as she tries to pick up the pieces.

“Stop,” I tell her with a sigh. I start rolling up my sleeves, preparing to deal the mess. To my surprise and consternation, Fiore jerks her head side to side, picking up more tiny pieces of porcelain.

She doesn’t even seem to be aware of the fact that she is bleeding, little red rivulets leaking from her hands to land in perfect droplets on the white tile floor.

“Leave it!” I order her, scowling. My shoes crunch against the porcelain. “Put the pieces down and get in the bathtub.”

Fiore looks up at me, rage written all over her features. “You don’t tell me what to do.”

My brows lift. “That’s the basis of our relationship. I tell you what to do, you squirm. I force you to do it, you love being forced.”

She throws the bloody mess she’s holding at me, hitting me square in the chest with a thud. A big bloodied stain starts to spread across my crisp white button up, right over my heart. The pieces of porcelain fall to the floor. I look up, enraged.

“What the f**k did you do that for?” I sneer, moving over to her in an instant. Towering over her, I grab her by the shoulders and give her a shake, thinking that I can shake some sense back into her.

“Are you going to kill me, then?” she asks, biting off her words. “Are you going to get rid of me like you did my whole family?”

My eyes narrow at that. “Are you saying that you aren’t glad to be free of them? Or maybe you liked being a piece of property?”

I push her down into the bathtub roughly. She falls in, the water splashing against her body. Still, she looks at me through slitted eyes.

“Just say it,” she hisses. “Just tell me that you had my brothers and my father killed.”

“Oh, little flower.” My lips tip up in a smile. “I didn’t have them killed. I killed them myself.”

Her eyes go wide, the breath leaves her in a whoof. Her voice is shaky now. “No.”

I perch on the end on the bathtub, by her feet. “I did. And I’m not sorry about it, not even one bit. I’m not sorry that Tony is dead, either. I’m only sad that you took his life instead of me.”

Tears overtake her. “Why?”

I look down the bridge of my nose at her. “You know why. Your family was a parasite, a leech, living off the blood of others. I did the world a favor, taking all of you out. And I did you a favor, although I didn’t plan it that way.”

She takes a big breath. Tearstained, her breasts just peeking out of the water, she is quite lovely. “You planned to hurt me. Kill me. You said as much yourself.”

“Yes.” I c**k my head. “I did.”

“And now?” she asks, her voice gone soft and breathy.

Rather than answer, I put my hand in the water, testing the temperature. It’s hot, but not unbearably so. My hand dips lower, caressing her ankle lazily. “I did kill Katherine. I killed all the Carollas. Now you’re Fiore. You’re my creature. Understand?”

I make eye contact with her on the last word, finding those baby blue eyes looking back at me. Somehow, those eyes are still full of innocence. They haven’t been corrupted in the time that she’s been with me.

I lean closer and grip her knee. She bites her lip and slowly nods. “Yes.”

Sliding closer on the rim of the tub, I move my hand up her silky thigh. “I saved you. When I bought you, you became mine. My possession, my plaything. And you were forever out of their reach.”

I c**k my head as I brush my fingertips against her core, teasing her lips. She gasps soundlessly, her lips parting as she writhes against my invasion. My fingertips find her clit, and she let out a breathy little moan, closing her eyes.

“Look at me,” I order.

Her eyes open again. I lean down and slide my fingers into her p***y. I smile wickedly.

“Tell me who you belong to,” I whisper. “So that there won’t ever be any doubt.”

Her perfect pink lips form the words I need to hear. “You. I belong to you, Monster.”

Withdrawing my hand from her p***y and from the water, I stand. “Good. I’ll be waiting in the bedroom for you when you’re finished. And don’t cut your feet on the porcelain on your way out of the bathroom.”

I leave the bathroom, already unbuttoning my bloodied shirt. The words she spoke echo through my head.

I belong to you, Monster.

But even as I begin to strip off my clothes, I know that’s not enough.

When will she ever be able to quell this unease deep inside me?