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62.

作者: AURORA STORM
last update publish date: 2026-05-19 23:32:05

Angelica

Know thy enemy, know thyself.

The first time I came across the phrase, I was young and had just taken my second beating from Nicolas. It was the day it settled in my heart that the abuse would be a common occurrence, and he’d said the words, though it wasn’t to me.

While dragging my battered body out of his office that morning, I overheard him say it on the phone to someone.

I’ve never thought about the phrase. It is something that was buried somewhere deep within me, but it didn’t ma
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  • The Pensive Gentleman   62.

    Angelica Know thy enemy, know thyself.The first time I came across the phrase, I was young and had just taken my second beating from Nicolas. It was the day it settled in my heart that the abuse would be a common occurrence, and he’d said the words, though it wasn’t to me.While dragging my battered body out of his office that morning, I overheard him say it on the phone to someone.I’ve never thought about the phrase. It is something that was buried somewhere deep within me, but it didn’t make much sense to me until now.Maybe if I know Marciano, I’ll know how to escape, how to save myself before I end up like Vittoria.Because Vittoria died. I remember hearing that Marciano killed his wife. It was Nadine who said it in her bid not to marry him, and though I’d taken it to heart then, along the way I somehow forgot about it.Letting out a tired breath, I press my thumb, index, and middle fingers against my forehead, staring with narrowed eyes at the paper in front of me. I’ve been

  • The Pensive Gentleman   61.

    Angelica My small pink journal feels heavy in my hand. Yet, I can’t bring myself to close it.The weather outside is bright and vibrant, though the air has a little dampness in it, as if it rained somewhere last night or the early hours of this morning. My laptop sits open on my bed, and movements on the screen gain my attention for a split second, quick enough for me to see Alex packing his books into his bag. We just finished with our second lecture for the day, and though it’s twelve in the afternoon it doesn’t look like it.I return my attention to my journal, ignoring Alex who has recently been showing himself more. Like now, he could pack his books from behind the camera like he always did since before the call that day—when he asked if I was coming for graduation— but he decided to go around the camera, just to lean over and show his features.“What are you doing? You’ve been quiet for a while now,” he says, pulling the zippers on both ends of the bag close.I drop my journa

  • The Pensive Gentleman   60.

    Marciano The whiskey burns all the way down my throat, but it doesn’t help. Nothing fucking helps, not the silence, not the cigar, not the alcohol.Not even the men sitting across from me, pretending not to watch me lose it.Uncle Enzo and Leo. After I’d gotten the call about the car, I’d sent Leo to get the bastard for me, because according to the intel I received, he’d moved to another state and was keeping a low profile. Living alone, no friends, no family. He didn’t talk to anyone and didn’t want anyone talking to him either.People think disappearing saves them. It doesn’t. Living like a ghost only makes you easier to notice.Today, Leo claimed to have brought the bastard to Boston, and while we wait in my office, some guys are bringing him over to us.“You should ease up on the drinking, no?” Uncle Enzo asks, tipping his hat up as if to get a better look at me. Leo snickers, parting his legs wider as he leans further into his chair, one arm on the neck of it to support him.“I

  • The Pensive Gentleman   59.

    Angelica My eyes flutter open to unfamiliar surroundings.The air feels and smells different. Masculine, but fresh and clean.Staring up at the ceiling, I blink twice, and suddenly something hits me. I’m in a room that isn’t mine.I sit upright immediately, and sure enough, this is not my room. There’s a photo of a little girl on the bedside table, and another hanging on the wall right next to the closet doors.“Oh lord!” My stomach churns, bile rising to my throat as understanding dawns on me. This is Marciano’s room.Cold dread creeps through me, holding me hostage. And my head bangs, as if the sudden movement woke a beast up.My fingers fly to the empty space beside me. The bed is cold, meaning he’s been awake for a while, or maybe he didn’t even sleep here. How and why am I here anyway?With a sigh, I peel the duvet off my body, and the second my eyes connect to the rest of me, I return the duvet to the way it was.Because on my body is…Marciano’s shirt. Unbuttoned.It can only

  • The Pensive Gentleman   58.

    Angelica The news shook Marciano hard.It’s the only explanation as to why he hasn’t returned home in the past two days. Or I think so.Not that I mind.Because in those two days, I buried myself in studying to make up for the time Nicolas stole from me.In fact, it took Alex calling me yesterday morning to ask if I’d been studying at all to bring me back in. Then I realized I had a lot of studying to do.I shut my laptop for the evening, getting up from the bed to stretch my limbs as I’ve been at it for four hours straight. “Ow!” I yelp, pain shooting straight to my brain, a reminder that though the bruises have started clearing, the hurt remains.With my hand on my back to support myself, I move to the bathroom for a shower. The water is hot, and as it cascades down my skin, it melts my exhaustion away, though it’s not doing what I want it to do.I spend about seven minutes in the shower, just letting the water pour from my shower cap to my toes, and afterwards I get out. As I’m a

  • The Pensive Gentleman   57.

    Angelica I shake my head violently. But only after I’ve done it do I see how disbelieving it seems. “No, he didn’t,” I add, folding my lower lip into my mouth right after.“Don’t lie to me, Angie. This is serious,” she says with a peek at me and a straight face.“I’m serious, Marina. Marciano didn’t hit me. He-he doesn’t.”She takes in a deep breath, squeezing the wheel slightly, then releases it. And I’m left wondering why I came to her in the first place.If I had just gone home this would’ve been avoided.Silence sits with us for a few seconds, maybe up to a minute before she breaks it again.“Then who did it?” “What?” “Who did it, Angie? Someone is clearly hurting you, and they shouldn’t be. You’re a D’amato.”Lord. How do I get out of this situation?“N-no one is hurting me,” I say and swallow hard. “So what? You just woke up with bruises all over your body?”A sick heaviness settles low in my gut.This is the worst situation for me to be in as someone who isn’t good at ly

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