I'll Treat You Better

Dahlia’s heart pounded in her chest as she stood in Salvatore’s room, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two people standing in front of her. The sight of Callixta wearing Salvatore’s shirt made her feel an unexpected pang of discomfort, her own insecurities rising to the surface. She swallowed hard, trying to push aside her unease.

As she mustered the courage to speak, Callixta’s interruption caught her off guard. The young woman’s smile and genuine apology took Amour aback, momentarily leaving her at a loss for words. She blinked in surprise, her mind racing with conflicting emotions.

Callixta approached Dahlia, her hand outstretched. Instinctively, Dahlia flinched, anticipating another strike. But Callixta’s touch landed gently on her shoulder, and her words sunk into Dahlia’s heart. Stunned, Dahlia struggled to process Callixta’s apology.

“I’m sorry… Sorry for all the hard times I made you go through, I really regret it and I promise from now on I’ll treat you better,” Callixta said.

She looked at Callixta’s hand on her shoulder, her gaze shifting to meet the woman’s eyes. She wasn’t sure about what was going on but she wasn’t comfortable with it. She also couldn’t bring herself to trust Callixta. Not after everything she had done to her. But she wouldn’t dare to say otherwise.

“T-Thank you,” she stammered.

Yet, as Dahlia turned her attention back to Salvatore, she felt a tremor of nervousness. His cold gaze bore into her, leaving her momentarily speechless. The courage she had gathered earlier seemed to dissipate like smoke, leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed.

Without a word, she gave Salvatore an uneasy smile. Words failed her, tangled in her throat like a prisoner in chains. She wasn’t sure she could trust the woman standing in front of her.

With a heavy heart, she turned away and left Salvatore’s room, her mind spinning with a sense of uncertainty.

As Callixta faced Salvatore, he nonchalantly walked towards his wardrobe, barely sparing her a glance. She held onto a shirt, twirling it around as she spoke.

“I came to show you this,” Callixta said, her voice gentle yet filled with a hint of excitement.

Salvatore paused, his attention momentarily diverted from his wardrobe. He glanced at the shirt in Callixta’s hand before refocusing on his task of selecting his clothes. Memories flooded back to him, causing a small smile to tug at the corners of his lips.

“Sure, I remember that shirt. We both had one, same design and color. You liked it so much that you stole one from me,” Salvatore recalled, his voice tinged with amusement.

Callixta giggled, a soft sound that filled the room with warmth. Memories of their past intertwined, creating a bittersweet nostalgia.

“Back in those days… Can you believe we’re now 26 and 27? Time flies, doesn’t it?” She commented, her voice almost wistful.

Salvatore’s gaze met hers briefly, a flicker of understanding passing between them. She was trying her best to make up for what she did and make him comfortable with her again. He continued selecting his clothes, acknowledging the passage of time with a dismissive mutter.

“Age is just a number. It is power and wealth that truly matter,” He remarked, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

She sighed softly, her eyes filled with a blend of sympathy and concern. She gently reached out, her hand barely brushing his arm.

“You should smile more often, Sal. There’s more to life than power and money. Don’t let yourself become a shadow of the man you used to be,” She implored, her voice laced with tenderness.

He paused, his expression softening as he absorbed her words. Rarely did anyone dare to challenge his perspective, yet here she was, daring to remind him of the joy that life could offer.

***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***

Dahlia couldn’t help but ponder over the compromising situation she had found herself in with Callixta and Salvatore. Questions raced through her mind—what was she doing in Salvatore’s room, donning one of his shirts? Why was he nearly naked? Did something happen between them?

Shaking her head vigorously, she scolded herself for thinking about such matters. She reminded herself that she was merely a pawn of satisfaction to Salvatore and that his personal affairs were none of her concern.

“Ouch!” She winced loudly as someone pinched her arm. She turned to find Adala standing there, her arms crossed.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been talking to yourself for a whole minute now. Why did you rush out of the kitchen like that?” Adala inquired, her stance showing her curiosity.

“It’s nothing, really,” Dahlia replied with a reassuring smile, trying to dismiss any further discussion.

“You haven’t told me about the juicy details yet,” Adala said, wiggling her eyebrows mischievously. Dahlia let out a sigh, knowing that Adala would pester her until she spilled the beans.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” She sighed, feeling a slight sense of discomfort.

“Come on!” Adala whined, her voice filled with excitement. Dahlia groaned inwardly and rolled her eyes. She knew Adala would continue badgering her until she gave in.

“Fine. I’ll tell you but you can’t breathe a word about it to anyone else,” Dahlia reluctantly began narrating the story. As she detailed the encounter, Adala couldn’t help but gasp in surprise, clearly taken aback by the intensity of the situation.

“I can’t believe he hurt you ” Adala exclaimed sympathetically, feeling sorry for her friend.

Dahlia managed a small smile, trying to downplay the magnitude of the situation. “It’s fine… Besides, it was either that or my life. If I hadn’t agreed to become his, they would have killed me long ago,” she explained, masking her pain behind a brave façade.

Adala nodded understandingly, but deep down, she couldn’t shake the sadness she felt for Dahlia. What if Dahlia was telling the truth? What if she never stole the money they accused her of?

“Well, I still need to serve his lunch,” Dahlia said, attempting to change the subject. She pushed the trolley away, heading back to Salvatore’s suite.

***~~~***~~~***~~~***

Dahlia returned to Salvatore’s suite, feeling a nervous pit in her stomach. She gingerly knocked on the door, waiting for permission to enter.

“Come in,” His voice called from inside.

Swallowing hard, she opened the door and stepped into the room, carrying the tray of food. She didn’t see Callixta anywhere and noticed Salvatore sitting at the dining table.

“Your lunch is ready… Master,” she muttered softly, her voice betraying a mix of nervousness and obedience. She began arranging the plates on the table, carefully dishing out the food for him.

As she moved closer, Salvatore’s gaze, which had been focused on his phone, lifted and met her eyes. But instead of maintaining eye contact, his gaze fell on her lips, and a strange intensity filled his eyes as he continued to stare.

Dahlia’s heart fluttered as she locked gazes with him for a brief moment, but the intensity of the connection made her feel shy and self-conscious. She quickly looked away, her eyes dropping to her own trembling lips. Unbeknownst to her, this small action did not go unnoticed by Salvatore, who found himself captivated by her every movement.

“Y-Your lunch is ready, sir,” Dahlia stammered, taking a few steps back to create some distance between them. She nervously bit her lip, feeling the anticipation and tension in the air.

His eyes lingered on her lips, his own filled with a mix of desire and intrigue. It was as if her vulnerability and timidity had awakened something within him.

“Sir… I-I apologize for any inconvenience I caused you yesterday in my drunk state,” She spoke softly, her voice filled with regret. She could feel his eyes on her, but she kept her gaze lowered. “I promise I will never taste alcohol again in my life.”

Seconds passed in silence, causing her to feel her heart race. She slowly looked up, hoping for a response from Salvatore, only to find him already engrossed in his meal.

“Is it a yes or no?” she wondered silently, her mind racing with uncertainty. Taking a leap of faith, she decided to interpret his lack of response as a positive sign.

“Enjoy your lunch, Sir,” She offered politely, a slight bow accompanying her words. With one last glance at him, she turned to leave the room, her thoughts consumed by the enigma that was Salvatore D'Arezzo.