To Have & to Hurt by Morgan Bridges

Violetta

I’ve renamed myself Violetta the vain.

Having too much pride is the only possible reason I thought I could provoke Tristano and get away with it. Violetta the Village Idiot may be more accurate.

After breakfast was concluded, I lied to my sister about having a headache, and nearly tripped up the stairs in my haste to get behind the locked door of my room. Technically, it’s Tristano’s room, as is everything in this house; except me of course.

Although I doubt he’d agree with that.

Despite his possessive behavior, he’s going to seek revenge for what I did earlier. If the crazed look in his eyes didn’t tip me off, then his words certainly did the job.

When Maximus and Emilia excused themselves from the table, Tristano casually leaned over to me and whispered something too low for anyone else to overhear. The sentence still plays on a loop in my mind and it’s what set my feet in motion earlier.

I’m coming for you and when I do, prepare to be fucked within an inch of your life. All eighteen fucking years of it, Violetta.

I can’t stop the shivers that race along my skin. They are equal parts anticipation and nervousness and I’m vacillating between the two every few minutes. It’s enough to drive a person insane.

The rest of the day is spent with me searching an internet site for a book to purchase on my sister’s cell phone, in order to distract myself from Tristano’s threat. I don’t know what I want, so I browse forever, read every sample of every book that catches my eye, and then proceed to not buy a single one.

Sometimes the freedom to choose leads to no choice at all.

Carina stops by to check on me and by then I really do have a headache. It’s just not from lack of sleep like I told her. The pain in my head, and the one in my heart, originate from Tristano and the emotional upheaval he’s caused.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” My sister settles on the bed next to me and then takes my hand, pressing it to her cheek. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“I’m still adjusting to all the recent changes in our lives, but I’ll be fine. It’s just overwhelming at times.”

She nods and places our joined hands in her lap. “I know. We should be somewhere in Mexico right now and instead we’re still in the city. But at least we’re not alone and unprotected.”

I smile at her in encouragement. “Rafael cares for you and if our father isn’t six feet under within the next couple weeks, I’ll be surprised. Look at what he did to Ugo.” A sinister giggle escapes me. “Your fiancé gave you a diamond and a corpse. How romantic…and practical.”

Carina succumbs to the grin she was holding back. “Agreed.”

“I want someone to love me like that.”

I inwardly cringe as soon as the words leave my mouth. Did that sound as pathetic to her as it did to me?

“You will… If you don’t already.”

“Huh?”

My sister presses her lips together and shakes her head.

Headache be damned, I scramble into a sitting position. “What did you mean? And don’t try and placate me with some bullshit.”

Her eyes widen at my choice of words. “It seems like you’ve grown up overnight, even though I know that’s not the case. And I’ll be honest, I haven’t quite accepted that yet. The way Tristano watches you is… I know there’s something going on with him when it comes to you, but as your older sister I don’t want you to be with him.”

I rip my hand from hers and ball it into a fist, stemming my anger as best I can. “Because he’s so much older? Or because I’m too young to know what I want?”

She gives me a sad smile. “Because I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Her gentle and caring tone causes my hostility to deflate and I flop onto the pillow behind me. “Oh.”

“Love is exciting and wonderful,” she says, “but it’s also a risk that comes with more consequences than just a broken heart. Tristano is older and he knows what he wants. I just need to know for sure it’s you.” She pauses and then, “And not just for the time being.”

“Me too.”

Carina’s eyes fill with empathy. “That’s something only the two of you will be able to determine. And unfortunately, I can’t have Rafael murder his brother if he hurts you.”

She winks at me and I huff out a laugh. “That’s a shame because your fiancé is quite good at that type of thing.”

“Rafael told me Tristano is even more ruthless,” she says. “I don’t know about you, but I find that easy to believe.”

Memories of my time in Guatemala surface, bringing a visual of the policeman Tristano killed without hesitation to protect me. There’s a darkness in him that’s disconcerting, but only if you’re the one opposing him. For me, it provides a sense of security.

I nod in agreement. “He is very intense.”

Carina sighs and then gives me a hug. I return the embrace, soaking in the warmth of her, created by her love for me. I whisper that I love her and she squeezes me so hard I wheeze. When we pull apart her eyes are glassy with tears and she tells me how much she cares for me also.

“I’m not one for extreme optimism, but I really think our lives are only going to get better from now on,” she says.

“It sure can’t get any worse.”

My sister laughs softly as she slides from the bed. “No, it can’t.”

She presses a kiss to my cheek and then leaves. The peace I felt in her presence begins to deteriorate and a sense of panic grabs me by the throat. I hurry to the door and lock it, releasing an exhale as soon as the metal clicks into place.

If only it was as simple to lock away my feelings for Tristano.

Wrapping a towel around my body, I step from the bathtub feeling somewhat relaxed. It only took two hours spent in steaming hot water to work out the stress in my muscles. I can’t recall a time I was free to do something so unproductive and trivial, and it’s for that reason I enjoyed it immensely.

I walk over to the closet and stare at the numerous articles of clothing available for my personal use. Another choice has to be made and the overwhelm of it creeps up from the pit of my belly. I shove the feeling aside and snatch the first thing my fingers come into contact with. Making decisions shouldn’t be this difficult and it irritates me that I find myself wishing someone would do it for me.

And that someone is Tristano, who still hasn’t come to my room.

I’m more relieved than anything. It’s well into the early morning hours and I slip on the scrap of material—because it’s really nothing more than a sexy apron, given how much it actually covers—intending to sleep. It’s going to be difficult, knowing Tristano is somewhere close by, but it’s too late for him to show up.

Our battle of wills is to be continued…

I crawl onto the massive bed and it doesn’t take me long to get comfortable under the sheets. My eyes close of their own volition and I snuggle deeper in the duvet. Whether or not Tristano is a tyrant on occasion has nothing to do with his excellent taste. Even the barely-there nightie is luxurious against my skin.

The distinct sound of the door handle being manipulated causes my scalp to prickle. I bolt straight up in the bed and shove my hair from my face to stare in that direction. Did I imagine the noise?

“Violetta, unlock this door. Now.”

That is no figment of my imagination, unless my mind is trying to induce a heart attack. My hesitation to obey him does not go unnoticed, unfortunately. Tristano’s voice, entwined with an angry undercurrent, also carries strands of irritation.

“If you believe I won’t break down this door, you’re sadly mistaken,” he says. “In fact, for every dollar I spend replacing it, that will be the number of times I whip your ass when I get my hands on you.”

I fly from the bed. That’s the only way to describe it.

“Please, don’t.” My whisper is barely there and I wonder if he even hears me. I flatten my palms against the door and press my cheek to it with my eyes squeezed shut. “I need you to leave me alone.”

Foolishness often begets courage. That’s my theory for why I’m telling him my inner thoughts. Because we both know the couple inches of wood between us is not enough to keep him from me. And maybe nothing is.

“Tristano, you confuse and frustrate me until I feel like screaming. The uncertainty between us isn’t good for me. I need time away from you in order to figure out what I want and I can’t do that with you constantly overwhelming me. If you care about me at all, then give me the freedom of choice one more time so I can make up my mind.”

His response is immediate. “No.”

“But—”

“The only choice you’re going to get is to decide whether or not you want this entire household to hear you get fucked by me. That is the only freedom I’m allowing you.”

My breath leaves me in a whoosh at the imagery he’s providing and it takes me several inhalations to gather the necessary oxygen to produce words. “It’s late, so why don’t we—”

A loud bang reverberating through the door has me jumping back with a shriek. Then I’m reaching for the lock with shaking fingers and once the mechanism shifts, I scurry backwards. The handle moves, my widened gaze glued to it, and Tristano calmly enters the room before quietly shutting the door behind him.

Then he turns to face me and I have trouble breathing all over again.

“Come here.” His voice is even, but the raging fire in his eyes tells a different story. “Violetta…”

My name is a warning, a promise of retribution to come.

I know what will happen if I don’t obey, yet I’m so frightened I can’t move. He’s not going to murder me, however there are a lot of things that won’t kill you but can still be used to bring correction. And not all of them are pleasant.

“Please.” That’s all I can manage. It’s a pathetic sound and it grates on my ears, but I’m desperate. I can’t articulate anything and I can barely think. The only thing I know is I can’t be pulled into the abyss, the one where Tristano is all that surrounds me and I lose my mind, my will, and myself in him.

That’s when I truly lose my freedom.

Because he is the only choice, the only option.

He stares at me, his gaze crackling with intensity, and it only builds with the seconds that pass. Then there’s a flash of silver in his eyes and he stalks toward me. His steps are steady and sure as he closes the distance between us and all I can do is lean against the wall for support. I’d run again, but this has to be dealt with because I can’t keep avoiding the issue.

After placing his index finger under my chin, he lifts my head just enough for him to look directly in my eyes, which brings about feelings of vulnerability. What will he see? Can I really hide my emotions from him?

We both freeze when a knock sounds on the door and whispers reach us from the outside.

“Violetta?” Rafael calls out.

I open my mouth to respond and Tristano covers my lips with his thumb. “Everything is fine.”

Carina’s gasp makes me cringe. “I knew it,” she mutters.

Tristano narrows his gaze at me and I swallow the nerves building in my throat.

“Alrighty then,” Rafael says loudly, his tone way too cheerful. “Come on, viziata.”

My sister mumbles something that has Rafael laughing, but the sound is quick to fade, leaving me and Tristano alone once again.

And from now on there won’t be any more interruptions.