Faust9 I rubbed my eyes behind my glasses. The words on the screen were fuzzy, my body too tired to concentrate.Sighing, I picked up my Campari and tonic. I had started drinking in the early afternoon, a habit that Marco disliked immensely, but which I found necessary to ease the pain inside my chest. The last two nights I fell into bed in a drunken stupor and passed out for a few hours.It was an improvement over weeks of sleepless nights.Marco was sitting in the corner on his phone, pretending to ignore me while actually watching me closely. He wasn't fooling me.I read the numbers on the screen again, wanting to prove that I was still on top of my empire. — Toni just made us more than two million euros by selling a technology share.Marco grunted.— Maybe we don't need D'Agostino for this computer idea.He did not answer.I drummed my fingers on the table and took a sip of my drink. When I drank, my thoughts often returned to her, even when I tried to avoid it.She made a fool

FrancescaClean and modern, Enzo's beach house was the opposite of the castle. The property stretched along the Gulf of Naples, each room offering a magnificent view of the water and Vesuvius. Mariella lived here, while Enzo's wife and children were elsewhere, and he had the luxury of coming and going, the cheating bastard.Even though Enzo was barely around, his guards were always present, as was Mariella, which meant I was never alone, and I was exhausted. I spent most of my time wondering if this was the day I would be tortured or raped in revenge against Faust. Or worse, the day Enzo realized I was of no use to him and put a bullet in my brain.I barely slept. I ate to keep my stomach at peace, but I worried that every bite of food was poisoned. Every noise made me jump, and my nerves felt stretched to the breaking point. How much more of this could I take? How much longer until they realized I was pregnant with Faust's baby? What would happen then?The possibilities were too terr

FrancescaEnzo stayed for dinner.I tried to hide in my room, but they sent me out to the courtyard to eat with Enzo, Mariella and six of their men. The outdoor space was softly lit and lined with beautiful, fragrant flowers. Gentle waves crashed onto the beach in a calming, rhythmic sound. The setting would have been romantic under any other circumstances, but I couldn't appreciate it. I picked at my spaghetti, aware that everyone was surreptitiously watching me. Was the food poisoned? Were they all waiting for me to eat and then pass out at the table?Mariella tried to keep the conversation going, but Enzo's men were not interested in talking, remaining silent, and Enzo gave her one or two word answers. Finally, he looked at me. —Don't you like pasta, Frankie?"— I'm just waiting for the poison to take effect.—Now, why would we poison you? You are much more valuable alive than dead. — He pointed to my plate. — Take a bite.— I'm allergic to shellfish. - It was a lie. I loved seafoo

FaustI saw her pretend to sleep next to me on the plane. She thought I wouldn't noticethe racing pulse at the base of your throat? Clearly she was awake, but I let her have it. She was upset enough. It would take time to win her over again.But I would. What she and I had together was too strong, too wild to deny.Did Enzo hurt her? I had no idea how she suffered at the hands of my enemy, except for the picture of her on her knees, a damn gun in her mouth. D'Agostino would pay for this a thousand times over before I broke up with him. Was there anything else? I needed to find out what happened during his captivity – not just to punish Enzo, but to offer him support and comfort.I examined her as best I could, but saw no bruises or cuts. No welts or broken bones. Maybe the damage is where I can't see it. My blood ran cold at the thought. Did Enzo rape her? Or harmed my child in some way?“Stop looking at me,” she murmured. - It is scary. And stop moving. I'm trying to sleep.— Cazzat

FaustI descended the dungeon steps, a familiar calm washing over me as I descended below ground. Maybe it was more detachment than calm, but I appreciated it anyway. Down here, there was no need to hold back. Instead of fighting the demons from my past, I could let them rise up and take over.Enzo D'Agostino was about to witness this transformation firsthand.I was almost ten years older than Enzo. He hadn't seen me at my worst when they started calling me il Diavolo. He would learn, though, starting tonight.Marco, Giulio and several guards were leaning against the stone. Cigarette hanging from his mouth, Giulio watched me attentively, his face tired and skeletal. When did he start smoking? I did not like. Vices made men weak.I couldn't stop to lecture him now, though. Besides, I had already asked him to give up enough. Maybe I should skip the cigarettes. A tentative truce was called between us while planning to get Francesca back, and I hated to see it broken.Looking at Marco, I