ILLICIT DESIRES | 18 +

46: Exposed

ROMAN

She is so Cryptic.

A week has passed since I was released after helping Antonio kidnap Rita and legally claim everything Nicolai and Miguel had left her.

A week since she finally faced the consequences of her actions. I agreed to go easy on her only because she was carrying my child.

The punishment for the little flower?

No princess treatment.

Bread and water. Enough warmth to keep her from freezing, but nothing more. She has no water to wash with, no blankets or pillows, and no toilet — only a sack, like an animal.

She shall drown in her own filth and receive exactly what she deserves, and yet... why do I feel so miserable?

She betrayed me. She was willing to let me rot in prison, where I would definitely have been killed. She was willing to sacrifice me without hesitation.

So why can't I sacrifice her?

Why does guilt gnaw at me every time I see her anguished face? Those red, swollen eyes are seared into my memory, leaving a heaviness in my heart that I simply can't shake.

"Get out of my head," I mutter, pouring myself a glass of whiskey and downing it in one gulp.

I shouldn't feel anything. Not after she broke her word. Not after what she tried to do to me.

And yet, she still occupies far too much of my pothead. Maybe it's because of the child she's carrying. I sigh and close my eyes, trying in vain to banish her from my mind, but somehow, she just stays there.

I set you free and tied his hands
He couldn't touch you
You set him loose
I care for you
For you
You

"Fuck it," I curse softly.

I can't forget those pained words. And the reason they torment me is simple: I can't see the liar in her.

All my life, I've been trained to distinguish lies from the truth, trained to extract confessions, whether through psychological manipulation or physical torture.

And yet, I believe she told me the truth that day in the basement. Her doe-like eyes always darted around when she was up to something, but in that cell, she looked me straight in the eye as she spoke.

For a week now, doubts have plagued me. But Antonio's behavior has convinced me that he, too, was telling the truth.

But one of them is lying.

Is it Antonio — the man who, as Rita claimed, deceived me? Or is it Rita — the woman who has suddenly learned to lie like a good deceiver?

I have to admit, she impressed me in court. The way she cried, the way she mourned her dead husband — almost flawless. Even I might have believed her grief if I hadn't been the one who saved her from being raped on our wedding night.

And she acted normally.

She interacted without her green euphonisms, and that annoyed me. It made me wonder if she'd been fooling me all along. But then she told me she was trained for court by a professional.

Now I'm breaking my head, trying to figure out who the liar is. I feel trapped in my own thoughts.

Doubting my capo feels like a betrayal. He gave me a second chance. He saved me from prison by kidnapping Rita's mother, blackmailing her into dropping her claims, and transferring all her shares to me.