Vincenzo’s POVI still see her. On her knees in that Brooklyn basement. Twenty-one. Her dress torn, her eyes... those goddamn eyes, full of nothing but terror. She was mine from that moment.Control. I lived on it. Breathed it. I could make kings or break them with a single word. And she... she needed me to breathe. I liked that. I fucking loved it.Fair trade.In the early years, she tried hard to keep a balance. She used her meager acting pay to buy me cheap cufflinks in return for diamond necklaces.I loved watching her carefully try to please me.Those foxy eyes always held the adoration and dependence I craved.But then... it changed. The fire in her eyes when she looked at me dimmed. Her touch became a duty, not a desire. She was pulling away. And I couldn't have it. I wouldn't have it.That day, she asked me for a Ferrari like a cheap hooker. I stormed out in a rage.Right after, I found out she sold the five sets of Cartier I gave her for cash that very night!She was liquidati
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