Wicked Game (Vegas Pete) "English version"

Chapter 12

Vegas's Thoughts

POV Vegas

I walked through the streets of Florence with a feeling of suppressed nervousness. The image of Pete, with his innocent smile and disoriented air, appeared in my mind like a painting made by Giorgio de Chirico himself.

I hovered around him, hovering without him noticing my presence and since our meeting at the ice cream shop, he was always surrounded by people who kept him safe, at least for now.

Every furtive encounter on the streets reminded me how close and yet unreachable he was. My heart was torn between hope and despair.

Today, however, things had changed. I ran into Pete again, but this time he was alone, walking the streets in search of a gift. It was my perfect opportunity.

My current identity, Dan, a 27-year-old man with an enigmatic smile, showed up to help. I felt like an actor in a play, playing a role that had become all too real.

I watched Pete move from store to store, frustrated at not finding the perfect gift. I took the opportunity to approach him and offer my help. Seeing his surprise and wariness at recognizing me was a mix of satisfaction and pain. The familiarity in his eyes and the way he tensed as I touched his hand reminded me how much I had longed for this moment.

As we walked together, I struggled to maintain the facade of Dan, an attractive but seemingly harmless man. Every word I spoke, every smile I gave him, was laden with intent and desperation. As I invaded his personal space with a playful innuendo, I felt a whirlwind of emotions.

My intention was to seduce him, to get him to let his guard down, but his reactions surprised me. The way he tensed and the unexpected blow he gave me made me question my approach. Physical contact was both a delight and a torture; feeling his skin under mine made my heart race, wanting to hold him and keep him safe.

But I couldn't just act on impulse; I had to act with caution.

Although his momentary rejection hurt me, I couldn't give up. Every time he called me a stranger, I was reminded that I was a stranger to him, despite the connection we shared.

When Pete calmed down and accepted my offer to keep looking for the gift, I felt relieved and hopeful. I knew that every moment with him was an opportunity to get closer to him, to make him feel like he could trust me.

When he mentioned his relationship with old Lucca, I calmed down a bit. Even though Lucca was a strange friend of my father's, he never passed up an opportunity. Still, I had to protect Pete.

My mind was constantly racing, devising ways to gain his trust and perhaps, at some point, reveal my true identity to him. I wanted to ask him out, to get to know him better, but I couldn't risk my true identity being discovered.

Every step we took together brought me closer to regaining what I had lost, to rebuilding what had been taken from me. Even though my heart yearned to reveal to him who I really was, I knew I had to be patient.

My love for Pete was stronger than any fear or insecurity. As I accompanied him on his search, I knew that every small gesture and every conversation brought us closer to a future where, hopefully, he could be himself again, and I could be the person who would bring him happiness again.

So, between forced laughter and silences full of contained emotion, I continued at his side, waiting for the moment when I could reveal my true self and carry out what I had planned from the beginning.

The hope of getting Pete back and giving him a happy future remained my greatest motivation.

As we walked, a mix of emotions washed over me. My time with Pete had been incredibly rewarding, and I felt driven to move forward with my plan.

As we looked out at the streets, I took a deep breath and made up my mind. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to ask him out, to get to know him in a less formal setting, where I could show him who I really was, albeit still under my Dan facade.

"Pete," I said, trying to sound casual as he stopped to figure out which street to take, "I've been thinking that after all this, we could go out for a drink. Maybe coffee or a place you like. It would be a nice way to relax a bit and talk about things other than shopping and gifts."

Pete looked up, his eyes expressing surprise and distrust. His eyebrows furrowed as he processed my proposal.

"Going out?" he repeated, as if trying to understand the offer. "Why would you want to do that?"

I tried hard to keep my expression calm and friendly, despite the growing tension in my chest. I wanted him to know that my invitation was sincere.

"Well, I think we had a good time together today," I replied, cracking a smile. "And I'd love to get to know you better. You don't have to if you don't want to, but I thought it might be fun."

Pete seemed to be weighing my words. I watched him struggle with his own feelings, his gaze moving between doubt and a curious hope.

"I'm not sure," he admitted, taking a step to the side. "I'm not used to trusting people so quickly."

I understood him perfectly. His situation and recent accident had left him cautious. But I also knew that his desire to have a genuine connection with someone was evident. I decided to be honest, to show him that my interest was genuine.

"I understand your reservations," I said sympathetically. "I'm not here to pressure you, just to offer you a chance. If you'd rather not accept, that's fine. I just wanted you to know that I'd like to spend more time with you."

Pete was silent for a moment, his eyes looking at me with a mixture of uncertainty and longing. Finally, a small sigh escaped his lips and a shy smile appeared on his face.

"I guess a coffee doesn't sound so bad," he said, his voice more relaxed now. "Maybe it'll be a good way to clear my head a bit."

I felt a surge of relief and joy. Even though I knew there was still a lot to build between us, the simple fact that he accepted my invitation was a positive step.

"Great," I replied, smiling widely. "Would you like to go somewhere in particular, or would you rather I choose?"

Pete thought for a moment, then shook his head with a broader smile.

-No, you choose. I'm sure you'll know a good place.

I was excited by the opportunity. I knew this was just the first of many conversations and shared moments, but it was a perfect start.

As we walked towards the cafe, I couldn't help but make a light comment.

-I hope you're not expecting somewhere too fancy; my idea of ​​haute cuisine is pizza with pineapple.

Pete laughed, his eyes lighting up.

"Only if you pay," he joked, and for a moment, I forgot the weight of the situation.

And so, between laughter and furtive glances, we head towards an uncertain but promising future.

To be continued .