𝐆𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐨. Model, actress, celebrity. At the age of 22 Gianna already has everything or at least that's what everyone thinks.
But in reality, her life couldn't be more of a mess. Where there's money there's alcohol, where there's pa...
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The moment he kissed me, it was like I could finally breathe again. Miles has that power over me. In just a second, he could make my mind go blank, make me forget everything but him. I suddenly didn't care about how dangerous and stupid what we were doing was. All I could focus on was running my hands through his hair, messing it up just the right amount, exactly how I liked it.
"Gianna..." His hands tightly hold my face, his voice barely even there, and I know exactly what he is thinking. He says we shouldn't be doing this, that we are risking too much, but I couldn't care less.
If I don't have him right now, if I don't get to feel him I am going to lose my mind. Like actually losing my mind, and I fear I can't trust myself anymore. Can't trust what I might do... what I might take.
The little plastic bag is right between my boobs, its sharp corner poking into my skin. I thought about doing it, for just a second before he started pounding on that door I genuinely thought about it. I would have had time, all I had to do was dump it over the counter, make a line, and snort it. It was simple, maybe even too simple. But I didn't, instead I opened the door and jumped at him.
I exchanged one drug for another.
He was my drug. I depended on him. I craved him. I wanted him more than anything I have ever wanted before.
I loved him.
And I couldn't have him, not the way I wanted, or at least not yet but right now I needed him to act as if that weren't true. I needed him to forget that we shouldn't be doing this and kiss me until my lips started to burn, fuck me until my legs gave up on me. Until all I could think about was him, just him and me.
"I know and I don't care. I need you." I finally spoke, reaching for the door's key and locking it. "Stole the key from William, we are safe. He is too drunk to notice anyway." My hand grabs the collar of his shirt, begging him not to leave me.
"I have been going crazy all night, having to watch him touch you... He doesn't deserve you. I hate that he gets to do everything I wish I could do." His words feel like knives going straight through my heart, cutting so deeply that I don't think I will ever be able to heal from them.
I am not the only one suffering, he is too. Every second that goes by, every touch, every whisper. He has to fight himself not to react. To act like he doesn't care about me, not in that sense anyway.
"Ask me to stop it, ask me to stop this and I will." I am not sure if it's the alcohol talking but in this moment, in this exact moment if he asked me to do it, I would.
I would go out there and I would break the deal, I would let everyone know that the man I love is not William Allister but him. Miles Russo. Hell, I would shout it, I would shout it so loud that the whole of New York City would hear.
"I can't..." his forehead rests against mine, our breathing slowly becoming one. "I can't." He repeats before finally kissing me, pouring every unspoken word and feeling into the kiss.
