Corrupting Lily

Chapter 14

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Dominico

I could carry her around all day. The way her scent engulfed me as I did. The weight of her hands around my neck. The way her chest rose and fell as she tried to contain how I made her feel physically. It was like a hit of something strong. A drug that had no comparison. And then there were her eyes. Pools of whiskey I could get lost in for hours, days without a concept of time. I could drown in them and not even know I was dying until it was too late. Like a true alcoholic, except my addiction was everything about her. The slow claws of this infatuation caught me off guard. And I wondered how I would overcome it. How to free myself of it. For it could never be.

She was a pawn. A powerful one, I suspected. Not using her would be foolish. Would be scandalous if anyone else found out. A weakness. They would think she meant something to me. And that would be dangerous.

Yet, as I look over at her sitting in the oversized chair on the other side of my desk, the desire to tread in those dangerous waters was strong.

She looks at me expectantly, and when I swing the computer screen in her direction, her eyes widen before the blood drains from her face.

I wait for her to say something, but her eyes remain glued to the screen while her arms rise and cross her chest, comfortingly embracing her upper body.

"You know this man," I prompt, her eyes dragging away from the screen to meet mine. I don't like the empty look in their depths and hate the power this photo has over her emotions.

She nods and then opens her mouth as if to say something before closing it again.

"Do you know he is looking for you? Even has a large bounty out on your head. If I hadn't taken you from that shithole Basilio had you living in, you would probably be back with him. Or worse, dead."

"Dead is not worse," she says quietly, her statement boiling my blood.

"I would rather be that than go back. If you are going to send me back to him, then rather send me back in a body bag."

The resolute way she says it makes me angry. Not at her. But with the man that has made her this way. A man who has instilled such fear in her that she wouldn't even fight the cessation of her existence if that situation arose. The power he had over her was too much. I fucking hated it.

She is breathing quickly, jaggedly, as if just sitting here is an effort. I temper my fury, and I only speak again once I have it under control.

"Why is he looking for you?" This question was loaded.

When I returned from the hospital last night, I went through everything my IT guys could find relating to Lily Valentine, and my blood was boiling. So much so that after I was done, I spent two hours in the boxing ring at one of our illegal fighting clubs. I eventually had to lay out significant sums just for contenders to enter the ring with me, as most were leaving dragged out unconscious and bloody. Such was my wrath.

Even now, thinking back to the footage seared into my memory ignites my anger. There were hours of it, mainly of the penthouse, some of the building's corridors, and then the basement. Her abuse was so frequent that I am surprised the neighbors did not complain. But the rich were like this. Covering up each other's secrets. They all knew who he was and so would never say anything. Dirty fuckers. At least my sins were out in the open. Rich fucks like these portrayed themselves as good, but underneath, they stank with rot. Rot I would dig up and use against each and every one of them.