Cara's pov
I regretted the moment I opened my eyes. Light, blinding and harsh, burst into the darkness like a bomb. It stabbed my vision, forcing me to squint and recoil. The stark contrast between the still blackness I'd been in and this sharp brightness left me disoriented. As my eyes slowly adjusted, the ceiling above me began to seem clearer, my hazy mind working like a puzzle to figure out where I was.
"Cara?" A voice I'd recognize anyway spoke into the loud silence.
I snapped my neck to the side, instantly regretting that as well. My head throbbed like a bitch.
It occurred to me that I was back home in our bedroom, in the bed. Luca was sitting in the space beside me, his eyes running over my face. "Meno male! You're awake." His voice was part distressed, part thankful.
I blinked up at him, lost for a second before it all started to come back to me, in vivid images, the events of what had led me up to this point flashed behind my eyes. I remembered going to club Nova to see Luca, I remembered us driving to some hotel where he left me in a bar. Then I remember the gay couple and camera.
And HIM.
I couldn't help the shudder that racked through me. It's been a long time since I'd physically felt Diego's creepy touch on me. The visceral experience had waned along the years, leaving only his sinister taunts and vivid mental images. I didn't, couldn't, understand why the awful feeling suddenly decided to resurface now.
Luca inched closer, his hand putting away my sweat matted hair from my face. "How are you?
I didn't know how long I'd been out but it somehow felt like a long time, if Luca's frazzled appearance was any indication. He'd done away with his jacket, his ash dress shirt was wrinkled and rolled up, three buttons undone. His hair was a mess and he had stress lines around his gorgeous eyes.
"You had me so fucking scared bambina, all of that…" he stopped to clench his jaw, his eyes shutting as if in anguish.
I looked away, panic bleeding into my veins as it dawned on me that the worst had been done.
He'd seen me for what I was- fucked up, crazy and pathetic.
For all I know, in his point of view, I'd been a screaming banshee fighting demons that were invisible. Like a psych ward patient. Like a possessed woman.
More sweat accumulated on my forehead, cold like the feel of dread of what comes next, rejection. He was going to leave me, none of my partners in the past had stayed after they were exposed to the real me. The pitiful, pathetic girl who was prisoner to her own past. Her own memories.
"Cara, look at me." Luca's commanding timbre brought me out of my self depreciating thoughts.
But I didn't look at him. I refused to, scared of what I was sure to find on his face-the look of disgust.
NO MAN WOULD WANT A MESS LIKE YOU, Diego's infuriating voice chipped in on cue.
My gaze was suddenly lifted by a strong grip on my jaw, bringing me face to face with eyes so grey it rivalled rainy clouds. Eyes that were angry and vehement.
"I know what you're thinking, stop it." He snapped.
My smile was sad. "Admit it you're put off by me. It was bound to happen."
I almost shivered from the cold annoyance wafting off him. "Why would I be?"
My eyes dropped again. "I'm a mess."
"You are."
I never looked up so fast as I did.
A sardonic smile tilted his lips. "What? Did you think I'd deny it? You're a mess, as is everyone. We're all messed up in our own way. By our past or by ambitions, one way or the other. You're not to blame for the wounds you carry, nor are you to be shamed for it.
I'd meant it when I said I love all of you, the good side and the ugly side so watching you assume I'd leave over something like this is quite hurtful and insulting and overall, pissing me the fuck off."
I was a still statue, staring dumbstruck at this beautiful man as I processed his beautiful words.
He just said he wasn't going to leave me, that he was going to be by my side even after knowing I was being haunted by another man.
Something reached inside me and calmed my heart, my worries, my fears and the tears, they fell freely.
I began to sob.
"Oh, Luca." I shot up to a sitting position.
He drew me into his arms, holding me close, rendering comfort and I came apart in his safe embrace.
"I'm never leaving you, bambina. I don't care what has happened in the past." He stroked my back as I ugly-cried into his shirt.
"Y-y-you s-s-still love me." I stuttered after a sniff.
"Yes, and I want you to never, ever forget that. I need you to trust me with everything, bambina."
I nodded. "I- I do."
He pulled back an inch, his hand coming up to frame my face. "Then tell me. Tell me everything. Stop hiding from me."
A distressed breath escaped my lips, leaving them dry. My lungs hitched as I took a deep breath, one I'd need if I'm going to dive into what I'm about to do.
Luca waited patiently for me to gather my courage, his stroking hand on my back a symbol of encouragement. I was filled with love and gratitude.
I inhaled heavily again. "It started when I was thirteen. I was given no room when I moved in with my mother so I slept in a mediumly large corner in the pantry. It had been my safe haven until he slipped in one night."
I shut my eyes briefly for more courage before continuing. "At first, he did nothing serious. He just stroked my legs and whispered obscene things then left.
I didn't understand what it was and when I tried to speak to my mother the next morning, she shut me down before I even brought it up. It happened that night as well and the next, and the next and my young, innocent mind ended up writing it off as nothing. Until it started to gradually grow worse."
Luca's eyes flared, his strokes a little shaky with what I perceived to be rage but he didn't stop. For my sake and it urged me on.
"He went from just touching my legs one night to touching my inner thighs. And from touching my thighs, it graduated to my inner thighs then to my stomach then… then to my tiny breasts."
Luca let out a vehement curse in Italian.
More tears trickled down my face, my breaths growing inconsistent, my words incoherent. "He started kissing me after that, awful disgusting kisses that made me long for death. The following night, he took my virginity. He threatened to slit my throat if I screamed or told my mother and I didn't and he returned every night for months until one day, he decided to amp things up, use me to earn a few bucks."
"Dio," Luca growled. "Did he pimp you out?"
I shook my head. "He didn't. What he did was drag me to the basement everyday after I returned from school, make me wear age inappropriate underwear and force me to do erotic poses while he took photos and videos to sell online."
Luca's hand went completely still, his face hardening into something dangerous.
I pressed on my lips to hold back a sob. "He'd- he'd use the photos and videos to threaten, to keep me in line and he did it for years until I turned eighteen and moved out. Even with that, he managed to find me and blackmail me for money. I'd give him more than half of what I earned for months until one day he stopped contacting me entirely. I don't know what happened or why."
I'd hoped it was because someone stronger than me had done us the favor by killing him. I'd hoped he had fucked up big time and was jailed for his drug dealing. What I refused to hope for was him somehow getting caught for illegally distributing nonconsensual sex tapes. I didn't want those videos coming out in the light.
"Who is it?" Luca demanded in a deathly tone.
I swallowed, hesitant on telling him. If I told him it was Diego, it would take less than an hour for him to find him and kill him– if he wasn't already dead. I didn't want to contribute to his death, especially when he still had the original copies of the videos he used to blackmail me. Especially after he threatened me on what would happen to said videos if harm ever came to him.
"An older uncle." I lied. "I- um… I heard he died last year."
I did have an uncle who died the previous year, Amanda's brother-in-law to be exact and no I wasn't sorry for pinning it on him. The old bastard was not so innocent himself, he'd been one of Diego's top buyers after all.
Luca was giving me that menacingly dark look he had whenever he was furious and bloodthirsty and even though I knew it wasn't directed at me, I couldn't help the zap of fear that coursed through me.
"I hope not." He drawled dangerously. "He still has a debt to pay and believe me bambina, he will pay with every drop of blood that runs through him."
I didn't know what was scarier, his words or the fact that kissed me gently on the forehead right after, pointed to some pills and a glass of water he'd placed on the bedside table and ordered me to take them before leaving the room.
All the while being eerily calm.