Chapter 3: Your Worst Fucking Nightmare

Rielle’s POV

I found my voice somehow. It came out cracked and shaking. “You’re a monster.”

He laughed under his breath. Soft. Mean.

“I’m your worst fucking nightmare, baby. And you still can’t look away.”

His hips snapped forward harder. The wet sounds turned messy. My mother’s gagging got louder. He held her tight against him, cock buried deep, and I watched his stomach tighten. Watched the way his jaw clenched. Watched the exact second he came.

He groaned low and rough and emptied himself down her throat. Thick. Steady. He didn’t pull back. He kept her there, forcing her to take every pulse of it, eyes still locked on mine the whole time like he wanted me to see it. Like he wanted me to know exactly what he was giving her—and how little she meant while he did it.

Only when he was finished did he ease out. A thick string of spit and cum connected the head of his cock to her lips for a second before it broke. My mother coughed hard, gasping, chin shiny and wet. He finally let go of her hair and wiped the head of his cock across her cheek like she was nothing.

“Clean yourself up,” he told her, voice flat, before looking back at me. “Go on. You’ve seen enough.”

I ran.

I didn’t remember the stairs. I didn’t remember the hallway. I only remembered the cold marble under my feet and the way my thighs rubbed together with every step, still slick from earlier, still aching. I shoved my bedroom door open and closed it behind me. My hands were shaking too hard. I walked straight to the bed and sat down hard on the edge, elbows on my knees, trying to breathe through the shame that burned under my skin.

The door opened without a knock.

My mother stepped inside and shut it hard behind her. Her lipstick was mostly gone. Her eyes were red but cold. The silk robe was tied tight again like nothing had happened. She looked at me for a long second, and there was no softness in her face.

I glared up at her, voice low and raw. “How could you do that with him? With that devil?”

She moved closer fast. Her hand shot out and grabbed my arm so hard her nails broke the skin. She yanked me forward until I almost lost my balance.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” she hissed. “You didn’t see anything. Do you understand me? You didn’t see a single thing.”

I tried to pull free. She only tightened her grip until pain shot up my arm.

“Don Aurelio would put a bullet in both of us if he ever found out,” she said, eyes locked on mine, voice low and vicious. “Not just me. You too. So you will forget what you walked in on. You will never speak of it. Not to me. Not to anyone. And if you even think about opening your mouth, I will make sure you regret the day you were born.”

Her fingers dug deeper.

“And stay the hell away from Lorenzo,” she continued, colder still. “Don’t look at him. Don’t talk to him. Don’t give him a reason to notice you. That boy is poison. If you get mixed up with him I won’t lift a finger to save you. Do you hear me?”

I stared at her, the anger in my chest burning hotter than the shame. This wasn’t the woman who used to hold me when the rent was late. This wasn’t the mother who had sold pieces of herself so I could eat. The coldness in her eyes, the way she dug her nails into my skin like I was the problem, the way she spoke like I was the one who had done something wrong—none of it made sense.

Why was she acting like this?

Why did she look at me like I was the enemy instead of the daughter she had always protected?

I wanted to ask. The words sat heavy on my tongue. But the fear in the room was thicker than the anger, and I knew better than to push when her voice sounded like that.

So I just nodded once, jaw locked, and looked away while she held onto my arm a second longer, hard enough to leave bruises. Then she let go and left the room without another word.

I was still in bed the next morning when the door to my room flew open. One of Don Aurelio’s men stood there, breathing hard. His shirt was wrinkled and there was a dark smear near the collar that looked like it might have been blood. His face was pale and his eyes kept jumping around the room like he didn’t know where to look.

“Miss Rielle,” he said, voice tight. “You need to come with me. Now.”

I sat up slowly, the sheet still tangled around my legs. My heart was already starting to race. “What’s going on?”

He swallowed hard. “Don Aurelio and your mother… they were attacked.”

My heart dropped to my stomach.