Deviant Love

15 - HIS

[Chapter 15]

[six years ago]

"You are weak."

I found myself in a wretched dungeon, the air heavy with the stench of sweat, blood, and filth. They hadn't fed me for three days, and water was offered in mere drops, just enough to keep my voice from fading away entirely.

"Accept who you are," the same brooding voice repeated, echoing off the damp, stone walls.

"You are no father of mine," I retorted, my voice hoarse and dripping with contempt. "I never had a father, and I certainly don't need one now."

"You have my blood," the man's voice rumbled, "That binds us together."

My head throbbed from the lack of sustenance. "You didn't remember your blood for twenty-four fucking years," I scoffed, my eyes narrowing despite the dizziness.

The man rubbed his forehead as if trying to soothe his frustration. "But you are here now. Here in Italy, you will take your position as my heir and fulfill your duty."

"Fuck off. You deluded bastard."

I almost burst out laughing—the audacity of the man claiming to be my father was beyond belief. Heir? It was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard. And here I was, confined in this rusty corner, my body weakened from days of deprivation, with men watching over me like vultures.

"Is your back alright," he asked in a cold voice.

The whip's bite was merciless—a savage kiss of leather against flesh. Punishment for my audacity the moment I arrived in this godforsaken place.

My eyes glared at him.

"You need to take over my business once I'm gone," the man said, his tone making my skin crawl.

"You can die for all I care," I shot back, my voice low and dripping with venom. "But I will never be a part of your dirty business."

"I've heard you have a girl back in town," he began, a twisted smile forming on his lips.

"Don't you dare touch her," my voice growled, my anger and protectiveness surging like a tidal wave. "Or I'll rip your fucking head apart."

He laughed, a chilling sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Ah, I see. The tough facade starts to crack when it comes to matters of the heart."

I stared at him, my fists clenched at my sides. "You know nothing about me, old man. Keep her out of this mess."

He leaned in, his eyes glinting with malice. "She's your weakness, isn't she? That's a dangerous place to be in, my boy."

I scoffed, my gaze never leaving his. "You have no right to talk about my girl."

His hand suddenly shot out, his fingers gripping my jaw in a vice-like hold. The pain shot through me, but I refused to show any sign of it. I met his gaze with defiance.

"You will do as I say, and you will take over my empire," he hissed, his face inches from mine. "Or your precious little girl back home will suffer the consequences."

My heart raced, a mixture of fear and rage boiling within me. "You lay a finger on her, and I swear I'll destroy everything you've built."

He released his grip on my jaw, stepping back with a triumphant smile. "That's the spirit. See... you have my blood, the unbridled anger and insanity. You are fit to rule the empire I have built."

I spat at his feet. My saliva hit the cold floor with a sickening splat. "I'll never be a part of your sick game."

His smile turned icy. "We'll see about that."

----

[present]

I stepped out of the shower, my eyes immediately drawn to the reflection in the mirror.

My back. The lines crisscrossed my skin, stark against my tanned back.

They were jagged and irregular, some deeper than others, their edges a stark contrast against the untouched skin surrounding them.

It was a harsh reminder of my weakness, a constant echo of my inability to fight back.

I never wished to cover them—they were a reminder. I was nothing but a weak boy who could not even defend himself. But not now—I am now capable enough to protect myself and my woman.

My hair remained damp, droplets trailing down my bare chest, as I moved with purpose to my desk, watching mio fiore as she was cooking something. I watched every detail of her, the scrunch of her nose as she realized the food was bland and added more salt. Or how she did a little dance once she tasted the final dish.

A ghost smile crept on my lips.

The cacophony of voices from my tormented past dulled to a whisper when she was near as if her mere presence held the power to quiet my demons.

I can't let her go. I will not survive without her.

I need her back. I need her back in my arms.

"I don't like you anymore, Alexander."

My chest tightened with the weight of unspoken emotions, the ache of longing threatening to overwhelm me. She had changed me and unlocked a part of my soul I had thought forever lost. I needed her presence like air in my lungs.

I will have her back by any means. Any fucking means.

----

I am back!

vote. comment. follow.

Instagram: @vairhans

vairhans.carrd.co