Roxana

Smut somewhere at 2/3, feel free to skip it.

"Was it that bad?" I ask embarrassed and see how he is trying to hold back a smile, maybe a laugh, and search for adequate words.

"Talent... Is not something you need to be good at something. It can be replaced by practice. A... lot of practice."

"So it was that bad." I genuinely pout. "I will never be as good as you are."

"You don't need to be as good as I am. If everything goes well, you shall never have to use this skill, but just in case... Don't be sad, Pebbles, I can practice with you as long as it takes."

"Mmm..." I continue to pout. "I wanna be cool like you... When can we practice again?"

"Hmm, depends," he answers and his mimic turns melancholic. "Grampa is now pretty invested in finding the guy who shot me. So is Alex. So I guess without any effort from my side, Ivan will be found anytime soon. Grampa understood I want him alive so don't worry about that. Anyway, in probably less than a month I will fulfil my promise to you."

"And after that?" I ask, being annoyingly sad somewhere inside.

"There is still Stefano, but I will meet him this week to propose a ceasefire, that he might or might not agree with. Depending on that we can see what to do."

I nod.

"But in the meantime, I want you to go to therapy."

"What for?"

"Oh Lord have mercy..." he says theatrically. "The whole family you had left was murdered this year; you can start there. Don't be stubborn; it can't do any harm. Okay?"

"Fine..." I sigh.

"Good girl. If you comply we can do something nice these days. Grampa wants me to go to a ball the day after tomorrow but I guess I can still play the sick card and skip it."

"I ball? As in fancy dresses and dancing?"

"Yes," he answers and a smile illuminates his face. "Would you by any chance want to go with me? It's in Venice and the venue is quite beautiful. There might be some mafia people but not only, mostly there are only normal rich people. We could... dance and stroll through Venice," he says with an almost untraceable hint of enthusiasm. Tiny, feeble but it was there.

"That sounds... lovely," I admit.

"But first therapy. Dr. Harmon flew in this morning. You meet at one."

"Today? At one?" This is kind of bossy, but it's also kind of hard to refuse after everything. He does mean well. "Okay fine, though I don't believe in therapy. Therapy cannot change facts. Wait, why did he have to fly in?"

"She. Well technically therapists are not allowed to reveal anything you say in sessions but we like to be... extra careful. She is aware of the... mob context so you can be totally honest."

"Fine, fine. But I feel you throw a lot of money out the window for nothing. I am as fine as I can be."

The discussion continues in the same manner till the very moment when I enter this woman's hotel room where the appointment is taking place.

I look at the small, black-haired, and brown-skinned figure who is extending her hand.

"Dana Harmon. Pleased to meet you, Roxana."

"Oh, you already know my name... What else do you know?" I answer a bit spitefully.

"A bit of your... context, but please take a seat. I would very much like for you to tell me your version. I usually start my sessions by asking the patients why they are here, so they can state their problem as well as they can."

"Mam' I am here because Marco asked me to come. I don't mean any disrespect but I don't think you can help me," I say, taking a seat on the sofa in the suite.

"I understand. And why is that?"

"Well, you cannot raise the dead, can you?"

"That is true, Roxana, but I might be able to help you navigate these feelings of grief and loss."

"Mhm." I look sceptically out the window. "I think what will help me more is to fire a bullet through the head of the guy who did that, but by all means, try if you feel like it. You are being paid after all. I was told I can speak openly..."

"You can. What makes you thinking about that person feel?" she asks calmly. Her voice is so annoyingly calm.

"That I want to torture and kill him like he tortured and killed my father and brother. Do you want me to go graphic?"

"And how do you think actually doing that, killing this man and torturing him, will make you feel in regard to your family? As you said, that will not bring them back."

"Less angry and less..." I hesitate. "Guilty."

"This guilt, where does it come from? What are you blaming yourself for?"

"For not saving them, for not trying hard enough, but I swear I did. I tried so hard, but it just wasn't enough." I break down crying and feeling angry with myself. I was rejecting this therapy thing and now I am here crying.

"As far as I understood, correct me please if I am wrong, your father was the one making that debt, not you. Of course, one wants to help the family but objectively it was not your responsibility, neither the debt of your father nor your brother."

"How can you say that?!" I interrupt her annoyed."Family is for life. Regardless of what my father did, I had to help him. But..." I sigh again. "But how the fuck could he? It's not only me, it's Dani too and Dani died too because he couldn't contain himself. I swear I tried to get that million at all costs. I didn't care about the pain and the humiliation, I didn't care what Ivan would do to me, or..."

"Stefano Messina?" she continues when my voice breaks.

"Or anybody."

"Indeed. But in your current context, Stefano is not just anybody."

"No. He is a dangerous mafioso, even more dangerous than Ivan, who I have crossed now also. And he is... Marco's brother."

"Are you afraid of Stefano?"

"No," I answered hastily. "I don't care what happens to me. Now I don't have a family anymore to care for and I guess the only person who I care about now who's left is my best friend Kary and..."

"And?"

"And ... well Marco. I like him. A lot, even if I shouldn't. I just can't help it. It makes me happy being around him and angry and sad, all at the same time. Oh and guilty and a whole spectrum of feelings."

"Care to elaborate?"

"I think I am in love with him despite everything. I feel like a teenager because I am so grossly happy when we are together. I even think we are a great match, would be a great match were he not a gangster and me not with half a mob on my heels. If we were just two normal people..."

"I understand, but since you cannot change the circumstances think that you have to try to accept and adapt."

"Very pragmatic advice. You do know everyone does here illegal stuff and we talk about homicide?"

"I am by definition objective. But continue talking about your relationship with Marco."

"We don't have one! A relationship I mean."

"Then what is it that you have?"

"He said that he will help me get Ivan and he wants to protect me from Stefano, because well it's his crazy ass brother."

"I understand," she says simply.

"And I want to sleep with him," I blur out.

"Okay..." She raises an eyebrow. "Then why don't you?"

"Because he doesn't want to. I mean he does, I guess, but said I need to go to therapy first. I suppose he feels guilty too about wanting after Stefano fucked me while a lot of the people at that gangster gathering were watching. Stefano did it to spite him..." I say in the end.

"I... I am really sorry this happened to you," says the lady, and her mimic seems sincerely affected.

"It's okay. I knew he would want sex eventually, it was just a bit more humiliating than I imagined but when Ivan made me blow him all his bodyguards were watching too and I was way younger and very scared, so I guess it's not so big of a deal after all."

"Being raped is a big deal in every context."

"I consented, both times. It was not rape."

"Did you want it though? Did you enjoy it?"

"No! How the fuck could I have enjoyed it?!" I almost scream and understand her point at the same time.

I didn't notice that the one-hour session became actually three. I exit the room quite drained and sack down in the backseat of the Medici Mercedes where Marco is waiting for me.

"It was... A long session. That's good. Are you okay, Roxi?"

"Yeah, this woman is the devil. She said almost nothing and made me blab a lot. She also said she can't tell you it's fine to sleep with me, and that we need to communicate and shit like that, so I am communicating. Marco, I want us to get laid, because it's been on my mind, on and off obviously, since we danced together in your brother's villa. Despite all the shitty context, I like you a lot, I have a crush on you as big as your creepy grampa's fortune and I want to finally stop thinking about it because it makes me feel guilty! So I guess if we fuck once I can go back to feeling miserable as I should."

His only answer is an abrupt kiss, long, stormy, and breathtaking. It reverberates in all my damn body. 

"Is that a yes?"

"No. It's a no, but I kissed you because you are somehow adorable. I hope therapy will help you with the guilt and I will help with the rest as well as possible but you have to think about the future because you have one. Think of what would make you happy or at least feel okay and I will help you with that. And we arrived. Go up, I will follow, just need to call Grampa."

I comply and enter.

I am not sure how I feel. Strange as always, but the outline of the silhouette of Venice distracts me a bit. If Dani and dad would be alive, I would be so happy but now I am only feeling chunks of happiness that make me choke in guilt.

The place we sleep in is to die for. Apparently, grampa Medici chose it. It's a former noble residence on the Canal Grande with all the possible, exquisitely restored old-age opulence you can imagine. Exhausted, I collapse on the bed fully dressed, and watch the sunset out the window over the San Marco cathedral in the distance. Tears just flow over my face and I don't even bother to think of the reason.

"Can I join?" asks Marco somewhere in the background. I am too exhausted to even turn my head.

"Mhm," I answer passively with eyes still on the sunset.

"What are you thinking of?" he whispers into my ear, while one of his arms slips under me and the other swipes over my arm gently. Then hot lips are pressed on my shoulder. 

Bare skin is grazing my neck and back and I feel... stuff. 

"You are not wearing a shirt," I enounce slightly surprised.

"Nope, I don't. I actually, really like skin contact, but only with people I really like."

"Does that mean you changed your mind?" I say, tilting my head and kissing him on the lips. This kiss is long, slow, and full of longing.

"No, and yes, in the sense that I would like to but for my own sanity, we need to take it slow. I don't want to feel neither that I am taking advantage of your state of mind nor that I am damaging you more. I am aware that going once to therapy is not going to solve anything. It's a process that might take really long but that's okay. I might just pave the way..."

"You don't. Take advantage I mean. I do want it, despite everything," I answer and mean it.

"Ok. So let's try. Remember, slow and you tell me whatever feels uncomfortable and I will stop, regardless of the point we are at. You are in control."

I nod.

"I would never hurt you. Ever. Regardless of the context, regardless of who I am on the outside, I loathe hurting people that don't deserve it in general and you least of all."

"I believe you," I answer and smile. He starts unbuttoning slowly the shirt-dress I am wearing. I shudder at every slight touch. It has been so, so long and it feels good, smooth, and gentle. I didn't have smooth and gentle in a long while.

"Relax, okay. We have all the time in the world and we are going to figure it out together."

There are lips on my shoulder and hands peeling off the dress, fingers and the back of his hand touching my arms. It's good and so soft, almost like a breeze. I try not to think about the context for a bit and only concentrate on being us, apart from the world and everything frightening, cruel, and hurtful.

In this bubble, there is no pain, no grief, no loss, and no desire for revenge and I selfishly indulge, just a bit in that and in the caresses and slow kisses on my shoulders, spine, and the back of my neck. I am still touch starved, nothing has changed since a few months ago and I like this so much it burns.

His hand is on my face tracing my jawline with his fingers and with his thumb the outline of my lips. I can't help responding and kissing the inside of his palm then moving my tongue along the lines and biting slightly the fingers, smiling into the touch.

"Good?"

"Mhm."

"More?"

"Yeah..."

"Feedback?"

"I feel you super hard pressing against my lower back."

He laughs a bit while nuzzling my shoulder and slowly unclasping my bra.

"That... is not at all unexpected. I am holding a half-naked girl I like. However... that is for the time being my problem, not yours," he answers, while the straps of my bra are being slid off just as slowly, almost unnoticeable.

"You are weird. I could..."

"Shh, no, not today," he silences me with a kiss while one of his palms is moving up my stomach and the other down my collarbones to my breasts and his tongue is tracing the outline of my ear, all that while still being held, just as gentle.

I moan slightly and lean into him, pushing my head back to move my cheek against his when he touches my breasts again, oh so light just enough to tickle and tease and make me react.

"Still good?"

"Yeah. Divine. It's been so long... Ahh.." I sigh while his fingers finally reach below the band of my underwear.

"Relax, it's all good, we can stop."

"No!" I protest.

He understands my not-so-silent message and lowers his hand while his other arm is coiled along my waist and his tongue on the outlines of my neck.

Soaked and hyper-sensitive are an understatement for how I felt now while his fingers rub against me just hard enough to make my breath hitch, my heart beat faster, and pressure build up in my thighs.

I gasp for air when I feel one finger inside.

"Don't stop," I whisper to prevent the question.

And I am heard and felt because the rhythm gets just a bit faster, and the pressure just a bit deeper on the outside, and on the inside two fingers make blood rush through my temples and blur my vision while I sigh in delight and clench against them, so tired and so oblivious to all I feel besides physical pleasure.

"No tears? Good, because the trembling and sighing can work both ways."

I smile and turn around to kiss him as a reply but feel so tired and my limbs are lead-heavy. I barely perceive when he leaves for the bathroom.

When he comes back and lays again against me, hugging me, I startle a bit.

"I liked it," I whisper.

"I know. Joking, I am actually really happy you didn't hate it. I was afraid you would and wouldn't tell me."

"It was better than anything I remember. But well it's been three years."

"Hmm... Not sure what to think about that, but yes I get it. For me too, almost as long."

"What? Why? How long?" I turn around and frown in curiosity.

"Who and a half, ish. "

"Years? Why?"

"I... Am mostly very busy with, you know, mob stuff and I generally don't feel sexual attraction unless I develop at least a minimal connection with someone."

"Oh wow, you are ..."

"Weird, as Stefano says?"

"No. Special."

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Fluff- ish, now comes a bit of drama and maybe some additional smut. Four chapters left I think.

Big thanks for reading. Feedback is always welcome.