Roxana

'I like it rough.' Yeah, I noticed that. It's been three days since we slept together after Thiago got a bit happy drunk at his mom's place. In between we also had a weird fight about why I talk to Pedro from school.

Granted the situation is ambiguous but I hoped he would just trust my judgment. Instead, he made a scene about not trusting him. Or I did. I am not even sure. It doesn't matter. We made up without talking properly about it though. Kind of my fault because I didn't want to go back there again.

"I am sorry, love. I just couldn't help it. You should have told me to stop." Thiago kisses my bruised neck.

"It's okay," I mutter while smearing the foundation over the purple spots. It was strange. At that moment I couldn't quite distinguish if I liked it or just liked suffering because of how much I hate myself. Not that it matters. It was ok.

Days pass calmly after the fight. I am grateful for every second. Life is not bad. Compared to the past, this is heaven. If nothing uncalculated happens, if Lorenzo doesn't find me, if he ultimately dies, everything might be fine. I could work again. Dani can study and have a good life here.

I don't know how long my relationship with Thiago will last, until he gets fed up or bored, but I will think about that and negotiate my exit when it comes to it. I mean... He is an accomplice.

The million euros in cash is stashed carefully in the plasterboard ceiling. In my previous job, I learned more than well how to open those and it's pretty unlikely someone will search in there unless something breaks. Which is unlikely. And if it happens, I will probably be the first one noticing, as I notice now the fine cracks in the walls of the faculty course room.

Then I feel watched and lift my gaze to meet Pedro's dark eyes. They are pretty, dark brow, but not so dark that you can barely distinguish the pupil, so dark you could lose your soul in them. Just normal, to me. To someone else likely just as special as those that haunt my dreams.

"Hey, I didn't mean to frighten you the other day."

It was two days ago when he ran after me in the hallway to bring the book I had forgotten in the classroom when I raced out in a small panic attack.

"Why do you think you frightened me?"

"Because it felt like you desired deeply to do anything but talk to me."

"I am not a people person."

"Me neither. And I really don't want to be in this course. I feel awkward, misplaced, and quite dumb sometimes but I need this degree. You also look uncomfortable so I thought I might be able to make a friend and finally ask how in the name of Christ you solve so quickly those stress analysis problems. I saw you also in Mechanics, half the time you look out the window because you know most of the shit already, or it comes naturally to you, or fuck knows. But I need help to pass my exams and have no money so I thought..."

"You mean, if I can tutor you...?"

"Would you? Look, I cannot pay you much but, you will gain a friend for life. I swear. I don't want to fuck this up."

"But why study this if you don't like it?"

"Well, with my background I am happy and grateful I get to study at all."

"You speak very good English, so you have at least one type of intelligence." It's an honest compliment.

"Thank you. I taught it to myself."

"That's actually... Impressive. How?"

"I have been selling souvenirs in front of monuments to tourists since I was very young and noticed that it works better if you can speak to them in English. I stole a book from a bookstore and started learning while also listening to them speak. Then I got to be a tour guide and then one of the tourists told me about a foundation he was sponsoring that should help people from difficult backgrounds study. And here I am. But for me to keep the scholarship I need to pass all my exams on the first try."

"Thursdays from eleven to twelve."

"So you agree?" He gives me a bright smile. "I can give you maybe fifty reais."

"Keep them."

"But..."

"Don't worry. I sympathize. I know how hard it is to work your way up and you did great with the cards life gave you."

"I thought..."

"That I am an uptight, rich white girl?" Partially true.

"Well..."

"No hard feelings. You are not the first one who tells me that. So I probably look like one but I am only white, not rich, and hopefully not uptight." He seems nice. And if we stay in public places it's likely safe. Even if he is evil and sent from hell it's unlikely he will shoot me in the middle of the university and if he will, Thiago and Dani will be warned.

The next day we actually started doing exercises in the gap hours. Despite what he said, he is smart, just as expected; maybe not naturally gifted with numbers but smart enough to pass the exam without issues, with some work.

And now I have something that resembles a friend, who is not my lover, neither wants to be, and who doesn't know and judges me by my trauma, only by the normal bits and pieces he knows.

"See you on Monday," I tell Pedro.

"I can walk with you, I am going to the bus station."

"I am not going there, my boyfriend will pick me up."

"That's nice of him."

"Yeah."

"Then I will walk you to the parking lot."

"No, better not. He... " Might not like it and I will need to explain myself.

"Ooh. Oh, meu deus. But I am married. It's not like that at all. I can meet him and tell him so he doesn't think I have ill intentions. I really don't. And I get it. My wife is very pretty, I sometimes get jealous too."

"No, it's okay, really."

"No. I told you I know how it is to have a very beautiful girlfriend." Well, maybe it will make him feel better and he can chip in that he was a cop, just in case.

When Thiago is parking his car near us and gets out of it, his face is graced by a quite expected frown.

"Thiago, this is my colleague, Pedro. Pedro, this is my boyfriend Thiago."

"Nice to meet you," he says with a rather ambiguous tone and shakes his hand.

"I just wanted to come here so you don't think I have anything shady in mind." Thiago's eyebrows raise understandably. "Caterina is just nice to me and helps me with school. We are the ones in the courses that are a bit of outcasts. But she is really, really smart. She understands physics and mathematics naturally and does all the calculations way faster than the rest. You are a very lucky guy."

"No, you flatter me."

"Yes she is amazing and I am very lucky she is mine," says Thaigo embracing me, and then kissing me. "It was good meeting you, Pedro. We have to go now."

I take the queue and get into the car. For some time we drive in silence. It's unusual and a bit concerning.

"How was your day?" I ask, to break dissipate the awkwardness.

"Good. We finished the balances for the month at the bar. If I knew you are so good at math I would ask you to do that."

"Look, it was a bit awkward but I just wanted to show you that he is harmless and thought you might scare him away or so if the first fails. Please don't be upset. We made up only hours ago."

"I am not upset, it just makes me think what other things I don't know about you. So you are good at math and physics. Honestly, I didn't expect that."

"Well yeah, reasonably good. I am an engineer." I shrug. Why is that even remotely important?

"Are you now? You said you studied English literature and dropped out."

"That was a lie because I wanted you to leave me alone. I am a civil engineer."

"Aha. Cool. How many guys did you sleep with before me?"

"What?" I snap. The reaction is as unexpected as the subject change.

"You heard me. It's only fair that you answer since there are so many things I don't know about you. You don't want to tell me the big things, then at least tell me the menial ones like this."

"This is hurtful. Why does it matter?" This plan backfired like hell. I should have trusted my first instinct.

"Did you sleep with some Italian politician or rich businessman for the passports?"

"No, damn it! Why do you do this?"

"Because it's hard to trust you when you feed me only morsels of truth under many lies."

"I told you, I need time to build trust. And I am. I am telling you things bit by bit. But you hurt me now."

"Well for me it is also hurtful to just give you open access to my heart and not getting anything in return except an occasional half-truth forced by circumstances."

When we reach the building he storms out of the car and I am left alone and uncertain. Maybe he will break up with me. Maybe he will turn us over to the police. He is also right with what he is saying. I am a jerk. He has been nothing but kind.

Sighing I knock at the door of his apartment.

"What?" He opens up bare-chested and with disheveled hair. He is handsome and looks somehow candid too in this brief moment.

"I am sorry."

"What for?"

"Everything."

"Say the words. What are you sorry for?"

"I am sorry that I hurt you. I care about you a lot and appreciate immensely what you did for us. You don't deserve anything but the best. I am certainly not the best so if you want us to go our separate ways I understand, but please don't turn us over to the police. We will be gone till tomorrow and it will be as if we were never here." Tears drip from my eyes. "I am so very sorry." My voice breaks and I am crying. "The name of the guy that killed my father is Ivan Ivanovici. And I slept with thee guys before you. You are the fourth."

I turn to walk away but he grabs my writs and spins me around crashing his lips on mine. Then his tongue pushes my lips apart and I surrender to the kiss.

*smut*

He lifts me into his arms and I lock my legs around his waist. We kiss and I yank my t-shirt away and throw it somewhere in the room while he kicks the door close.

"You are so beautiful," he breaths against my skin, peeling the cup of the bra away to lick and bite into my nipple. It hurts and I let out a little moan that's between pleasure and pain.

Then he lets me drop on the mattress and opens the button of my jeans to tear them off together with my underwear. I kick off my shoes and sit up but he presses me back down on the bed, already hovering over me, naked and very hard. This time there isn't much foreplay; he is inside me and thrusts abruptly while he smothers my mouth with kisses. Each one of them is harder and deeper than the other.

Is it hate sex? Is it 'I love you too much' sex? Is it 'I don't want you to turn us to the police' sex?

He stands up on one arm and coils the other hand around my neck.

"I love you," he whispers between heavy breaths. "You feel so amazing. You drive me crazy but I love you."

It hurts. and again I don't know if I like the pain but I feel I can't breathe.

"Tell me you love me."

"I... love... you," I pant.

He lets go of my neck and cums inside me, while I finish too with the return of my breath.

"This was amazing. You are amazing." He lays down beside me and pulls me into his arms.

*Smut end*

When I wake up the next morning it's to the smell of coffee and pancakes brought to my bed.

"Morning, love." Thiago kisses me gently on the mouth.

"Hey." I smile at him.

"How did you sleep?"

"Deeply. I was very tired."

"Yeah, last night was pretty tiring. I uh, got you something. I wanted to give you this before we had the fight."

He puts the tray on the bed. Besides the food is a red rose. Thank heavens it's red. And near the rose is a small velvet box. I open it carefully. Inside is a gold ring garnished with five red stones and a blue one set in a circle.

"Thank you... Uh... It's very pretty."

"Try it on." I take it from the box and started testing it.

"It only fits on the ring finger. I can't wear it like this. People will think it's an engagement ring."

"So? What if they think that?" He pushes it down the column of my finger.

"I. Fuck. Now I can't take it off."

He laughs wholeheartedly.

"Then take it as a sign that you shouldn't."

"By the way, we should hurry a bit. It's quite late and my father's party starts at six."

"Ah shit, I forgot. And I don't have a dress. Unless you bought me one again." He lifts his shoulders coyly. "You did buy me one. I told you I don't want you to buy me stuff but you constantly do. But then again maybe it's good you did this time. Like this, I am not under pressure of not choosing the right thing."

And what a dress that is. Unlike the one he bought me when I was introduced to his mother, which was pleasantly normal, this one looks like couture only by the way it's packed. And when I put it on I acknowledge a few things. It's high collared and it couldn't be better because now I don't have only little bruises on my neck it's a fully-fledged purple collar; it has long sleeves to hide all scars, but to my surprise, it's also very sexy, skin-tight, black and long, ending in a siren shape and the back is fully bare.

I am not sure if I feel totally comfortable wearing it but it's late and I don't have much of a choice.

"You look very pretty, Roxi. Have fun." Dani hugs me goodbye.

"Thanks. We won't stay long. You can call Zeca over if you like but don't leave the apartment, ok? And if something weird seems to be going on, call me right away."

"Okay, I know the rules. And I will do that because I want you to be happy. Love you, sis."

"Love you too." I kiss his forehead affectionately.

"You look spectacular." Thiago holds my hand and opens the door of the car for me. It's not his car though, but a much more expensive black Mercedes. It's the first Mercedes I see in Brazil.

"What car is this?"

"It belongs to dad. He cares a lot about appearances and didn't want me to arrive at the party looking poor, I suppose. In life, you have to choose your battles wisely so I just went with it."

"Okay. How long will this party last?"

"I don't know or care. We will only go there and say hi and congratulations and then leave."

"You seem to not like your father very much."

"He is... difficult."

When we drive into an underground garage I get instinctively nervous.

"Where is this party actually? You said it's a small gathering but this dress, you wearing a suit with a bow tie. How many people are going to be there? Maybe it's a bad idea that I came. Maybe I should wait in the car." I feel a panic attack building up.

"It's at the last story of this skyscraper because dad is a snob. There aren't going to be many people and even fi there are, we won't be there for longer than half an hour. Everything si fine. Give me your hand."

I breathe in, take his hand, and get out of the car. The elevator rises to the forty-fifth story and I can't stop shaking.

"Thiago, I really think I should sit this one out. Meeting your mom and stepdad at their house was ok but this, this is different."

"Just breathe, you cannot leave now. We are there."

The elevator opens to an entry hall full of people. I swallow, deeply disturbed.

A dark-haired man in his early fifties, accompanied by a woman in her thirties, walk towards us right away. There are at least fifty people here. I can't breathe and this is a freacking nightmare.

Thiago squeezes my hand. It is probably meant to reassure me but it doesn't really help.

"That's your father?"

"Yes, and his girlfriend that isn't much older than me."

He is a handsome yet frightening man; tall and broad-shouldered, with a severe mimic over still handsome features. Frowning seems to be his second nature so unlike his son.

"Filho. Bem-vindo./ Son. Welcome."

"Olá, Thiago. Estamos tão felizes que você está aqui./Hello, Thiago. We are so happy that you are here." The tone of the fiance is ambiguous. But I suppose they don't have the best of relationships. She is a very good-looking woman with the body of a model and the face of a TV presenter who forgot how to stop smiling.

"Pai. Beatriz. Esta é minha namorada Caterina. Caterina este é meu pai General Vitor Mendes da Rocha e sua adorável noiva Beatriz Silva./ Father. Beatriz. This is my girlfriend Caterian. Caterina this is my father General Vitor Mendes da Rocha and his lovely fiance, Beatriz Silva." His tone is glacial. Like never before. He hates this situation more than I do. I squeeze his fingers back and he gives me a grateful smile.

"Prazer em conhecê-los/ Nice to meet you," I mutter. They both scan me from head to toe, evaluating me by a different set of values.

"Que bom finalmente conhecer você. Você chama a atenção./ Good to finally meet you. You are an eye-catcher," says the man in a yet again ambiguous tone.

"É o cabelo; é tão bonito. É natural?/ It's the hair, it's so beautiful. Is it natural?" says Beatriz and kisses both my cheeks.

"Sim. obrigado. Você está muito bonita. Parabéns pelo noivado./ Yes. thank you. You look very beautiful. Congratulations on the engagement."

"Obrigada,/ Thank you."

A man comes rushing from the opposite direction.

"Oh, bom senhor, seu filho está aqui. Ótimo, então podemos deixar entrar os jornalistas e fotógrafos. O anúncio está planejado para cerca de trinta minutos. Deixe-os correr, tirar fotos e então você sobe no palco e anuncia sua candidatura./ Oh, good sir. Your son is here. Great. Then we can let the journalists and photographers in. The announcement is in about thirty minutes. Let them run around, take pictures and then you get on the stage and announce you are candidating."

"Candidato? Pai, que porra está acontecendo aqui?/ Candidating? Father, what the fuck is going on here?"

"Seu pai está anunciando que se candidata à presidência do país. E você está aqui para ajudá-lo a vencer./ Your father is announcing that he is candidating for the presidency of the country. And you are here to help him win."

Thiago is livind with anger but I hear only two words: journalists and photographers.

Without saying a word I storm away and enter the elevator that was about to leave just before the doors close.

I am shivering. This wasn't a mistake but a cataclysm.

A taxi just enters the underground garage. An older gentleman exits the car and asks me if he can do something for me because I don't look so good. I just slam the door of the taxi shut and ask the driver to leave.

After we are away from the building I finally manage to tell him where we are going. Traffic is relatively calm and we arrive at the apartment quite fast. I pay for the ride and hurry inside.

"Mi scusi signorina?/Excuse me, miss?" says a male voice just before I manage to enter the building.

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Yes, it's finally on. Muhaha.