Chapter 179 You're Fucking Drunk
Chapter 179 You're Fucking Drunk
SANCIA
It was late on my third day back home when voices outside my door jolted me awake. I reached beneath the spare pillow where I'd hidden both my phone and my gun, pulling out the phone first.
11:50 p.m.
I frowned. What the hell was going on at this time of night? Throwing back the sheets, I hurried to the door and pressed my ear against it, trying to make out the muffled voices. Before I could catch a single word, the doorknob suddenly turned.
My heart slammed against my ribcage. I barely had time to step back before the door swung open and Antonio literally stumbled inside, backing me into my room as he hurriedly shut the door behind him.
“What the hell are you doing?” I snapped, shoving him away as I cautiously put more distance between us. “Why are you in my room?”
“I just want to talk to you, Sia.”
His eyes were dark with something that sent the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. The sharp scent of alcohol clung to his breath.
He'd been drinking.
“What could possibly be so important that it couldn't wait until morning?” I asked, taking another slow step toward my bed—and my gun.
“You.” He smiled sadly. “Us. I can't help thinking you've changed.”
I let out a bitter scoff. “You're one to talk after everything you've done to me. I'm literally your prisoner, Antonio. What right do you have to treat me this way? To interfere in my affairs?”
His expression darkened. He crossed the distance between us so fast I didn't even have time to move. Suddenly his hands were gripping my shoulders.
“I love you, Sancia,” he said hoarsely. I care about you. Doesn't that mean anything to you? Doesn't that give me the right?”
“You're fucking drunk.” I tried to pull away. “Leave my room.”
“Did you know Lorenzo had taken Dario away? That he's in Villa Marchetti?”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, feigning shock. “Dario was with Zetta; she would have told me if that asshole was there.”
He shook his head. “That's what I thought, but my men haven't reported back to me for days now, and there's only one explanation for that.”
“They're dead. That bastard killed them.”
“What? What about Dario? Is my baby safe?” I asked, feigning panic to sell the act.
“I don't know. Don't worry, Sia, I will get him back,” he assured her.
“This is all your fault. You said you were going to bring him here. If anything happened to my baby, I'll never forgive you, Antonio.”
“I'm going to fix it. I promise you, I will get Dario back to you.”
Like heck you will. “Get your hands off of me, now, Antonio.”
“Whatever happened to us, Sancia?” he slurred, his bloodshot eyes searching mine. “What happened to our dreams? To us?”
I twisted free of his grip. I had barely taken two steps toward the door when he grabbed me again, slamming me against the wall.
Pain shot through my back, and I struggled to breathe as his grip tightened around me.
“I know you still love me,” he whispered, making my nose crinkle in disgust as the heavy smell of liquor washed over me. “And I’ve always loved you, Sia.”
“What are you talking about?” I hissed, struggling against him. “I don't love you, Antonio. And I'm fucking married.”
“You won't be for long,” he snarled. “I'm going to kill that bastard, and we can finally be together, just like we've always wanted.”
“Jesus, Antonio, let go of this obsession. I don't love you anymore. Don't you get that?”
His grip tightened until it hurt. “I don't believe you, Sancia.” His voice dropped low. “You still love me. I know you do.”
His body pressed harder against mine. “Did you miss me?” he murmured. “Because I've missed you every damn day.” He leaned closer, his eyes flickering down to my lips. His intentions were obvious.
“Let me go, Antonio.” I shoved against his chest with both hands. “I'm fucking married. I have a husband, and you're together with my sister.”
“I don't love her.” His jaw clenched. “And we haven't really been engaged for years. I've only ever wanted you.”
His hand suddenly cupped my face, forcing me to look at him.
“So you've just been using her?” I shot back. “Don't lie to me. I know you're sleeping with her. I heard you the other night.”
Panic flashed across his face. “Then you also heard what I told her,” he rushed out. “She knows she'll never be you, Sancia. You're the only woman I've ever loved... the only woman I'll ever love. Sleeping with her was a mistake.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Do you even hear yourself? You think I'm mad because you slept with Isabella?”
I scoffed. “No. I'm angry because you're using her. My sister deserves so much better than this. So what? You can't marry her, but she's good enough to sleep with?”
“It only happened once, Sia.” His voice cracked. “I swear I never meant for any of this to happen.”
It was like he wasn't even listening to a word I was saying.
“You know I only love you,” he whispered. “I've missed your kisses, Sia. I've dreamed about you so many times... but it was never the same as having you.”
I squirmed harder. “Kiss me, please…”
“No!” I screamed the moment his mouth landed on my cheek.
Revulsion rolled through my stomach. I thrashed in his grip, turning my face away as he kept trying to reach my lips. His hands were like manacles.
“I regret letting that bastard take what was mine; I should have been your first. I should have taken you up on your offer back then,” he said frantically.
Fear clawed up my throat. “Stop,” I cried, tears spilling down my cheeks. “Don't do this, Antonio. Please... let me go.”
His mouth kept chasing mine.
“You're hurting me!” But it's like he's blinded by everything except his disgusting needs. So I bite his hand hard enough that he groans and lets go of one of my hands.
“Let me go right fucking now, or I swear to God I will make you pay,” I snarl, panting.
Instead of letting go as I expected, he did the opposite. “Sia…” His voice was almost pleading. “Why are you being like this? Don't tell me you don't feel anything.”
His arms tightened around me. Then I felt him grind against me.
Pure rage exploded inside me. The little self-defense I'd learned finally kicked in, and I twisted sharply, my knee aiming upward.
The asshole realized my intention and moved at the last second. His grip on my hand loosened. Before he could recover, I yanked my hand free and smacked him across the face, hard.
The sound of the slap echoed in the room between us as I panted with anger, my whole body shaking.
“You're fucking drunk, Antonio,” I spat, backing away from him in disgust. “I'm going to pretend tonight never happened because you're out of your damn mind. But if you ever lay a finger on me again, I'll fucking kill you.”
The slap seemed to snap him back to reality. Antonio took a step back. “Shit.” His face crumpled. “I'm so fucking sorry, Sia. I just… I needed to see you. I didn't mean to upset you.”
I folded my arms tightly across my chest to hide how badly they were trembling.
“I don't care. Get the fuck out of my room, right fucking now.”
“I'm sorry.” He took another hesitant step toward me. “I'm so sorry, Sia.”
“Get the fuck out!” I screamed.
He froze. Then, with a small nod, he turned, opened the door, and walked out.
The second it clicked shut, I rushed over and locked it. Only then did I allow myself to breathe. Still shaking, I stumbled into the bathroom.
I stripped off my nightdress and stepped beneath the shower without bothering to turn on the hot water. The icy spray stole my breath.
I didn't care.
I scrubbed at my face and body until my skin burned, desperate to wash away the phantom feel of his mouth against my cheek. By the time I finally walked back into my room, my skin was raw.
A part of me still expected him to be standing there in the shadows.
Waiting. I didn't sleep again that night.
Instead, I sat on the edge of my bed with my gun in one hand and my phone in the other.
It took every ounce of self-control not to call Lorenzo and tell him everything. But one thing was clearly obvious. I needed to leave before Antonio tried something like this again.
But not until I help Sergio get our Famiglia back. This Famiglia belongs to my brother; right now, my best bet for saving our family is Sergio. I need to contact him. I know he's supposed to get back from Spain this week.
I can't help but wonder if he was anything like Isabella, if he was just another willing pawn Antonio had wrapped around his finger.
Though somehow, I doubted my hot-headed brother would willingly betray our father.
No. I shook that thought away. Mama wouldn't have told me to call him if that were the case. I just have to trust her.
An idea slowly forms in my head, and I know I have to act, take action, but first I need to call Diavolo. I’ll need his help for this to go smoothly.