CHAPTER 10: BLOOD AND KISSES

ALLESSIO'S POV

"So should we still continue preparing to make a deal with those low-level scums, or are we going to start preparing for a wedding instead?"

The look I gave Fierro could have sent others running for their lives, but he just stood in front of me unfazed. "If you want to prepare for a wedding, go for it. But it will be your wedding even if I have to knock you out and strap you into a wheelchair and have Lorenzo look for a bride that you can marry."

He scoffed. "No thanks." He reached for a glass and then poured himself of the Vecchia Romagna that I'm drinking. "If you're not going to wed her, what are your plans for her? Is she another one of your scheduled fucks like Leandra?"

I wouldn't be surprised if the glass I'm holding will shatter with how tight I'm gripping it. "I know you're a lot of things, Fierro, but I didn't know you for a man who has a death wish. Why don't you write a letter for your family first as my last respect for them before I break your neck?"

He rolled his eyes, but he took a step back, reminding me why he's my under boss in the first place. He's smart and as ruthless as I am, and he also has a good instinct when his life and those around him is at stake.

"I'm just asking. One moment you're telling me that she's not yours even though the way you act when she's involved says otherwise, and then the next we need to turn off the security cameras in the entertainment room because you're in there with her."

A muscle ticked in my jaw, tension filling the air with Fierro's words.

"I've known you for years, Allessio. You go through women faster than you lose bullets, but not once did you promise any of those women anything. They know what they're getting into with you. You fuck them, and then they go home. But the way you are with your principessina is different, and you can't deny that." He chuckled as if he found something funny. "Italian temper? She said that, right? Your Italian, but a temper? You're the calmest person I ever met, except when you're in a Filipino grocery store. You'll be facing death or the people around you are dropping dead, and you will still be unshaken. And yet around that woman, your worse than a teenager going through puberty."

"Make a choice. A broken neck or a bullet in the head?"

He shook his head in resignation. "It's you who need to make a choice. You need to make a choice, Allessio, and she needs to be aware of that choice. We both know that she has gone through a lot already. We both saw her in that club. She looks like an angel with her wings clipped. She's broken already."

"I'm not trying to break her," I growled. "I'm trying to do the opposite that's why I tried to stay away from her."

"Are you even hearing yourself? Tried. You've tried, but you stopped."

I drained the contents of my glass. "Leave."

"I have to know. Is she yours, or is she yours for now? I need to prepare if you decide to drop her. Do you want her to be relocated to some safe place, or do you want me to make sure of her future and find a man who can protect her and marry her after you—"

He couldn't finish his sentence. Not when I grabbed him by the collar so I could wrap my hands around his neck.

Instead of fighting me off when my hands tightened, he just grinned and patted my shoulder. "I guess this means you don't want anyone to take her, huh?"

I pushed him away roughly. Cazzo. "I would like to see who will dare to even try."

HAVEN'S POV

I was awakened by loud noises coming downstairs. I glance at the bedside table and my forehead creased when I saw that it's only two in the morning.

I lost count of how many of Allessio's men have been coming in and out of this place without a specific time, but they've never made noise like this. I couldn't help but think that Allessio must have ordered them to keep quiet, especially at night when I'm asleep.

I reached for my robe and put it on, tying it tightly before I left the room and headed for the stairs to go down.

I couldn't stop the gasp that escaped my lips when I saw a bloodied man, much worse than the one I saw when I first arrived here, being carried in a direction I sometimes see the others go to. Unlike when it was one of their own, they drag the man without a drop of care.

"Go back to sleep, gattina."

I turned to look at the direction of Allessio's voice. What fear I felt when I saw the other man and from what they plan to do with him vanishes instantly at the sight of Allessio and his shirt, red with blood.

Before I could stop myself, I found myself descending the stairs in a hurry. Allessio quickly approached the stairs, reaching for me with his bloodied hands. As if realizing it, he stopped himself from touching me, but his hands remained at the ready just in case I fell.

"You're going to hurt yourself," he bit out.

"You're the one who's hurt!"

I raised my hand to touch him, but I couldn't bring myself to do it, afraid that I might hurt him more. I don't even know where he's injured since there's so much blood staining his shirt.

"Not all of them is my blood."

"But some of them is yours!" I started pacing, biting my nails while I do it. "Oh my god. We need clean towels, alcohol, hot water—"

"I'm not going to give birth—"

"A doctor! We need a doctor! And a hospital!"

"We have a doctor, but if you want a hospital, I can buy one tomorrow."

I glared at him which made him pressed his lips together as if he's trying his best not to smile.

Ignoring the looks we were getting from the others, I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the kitchen.

When we got inside, I took his hand and placed it under the faucet that I opened. I grimaced when I saw that his knuckles looked tender. And I just put them directly on the water pressure.

I looked at him guiltily, but he's just watching me. He doesn't seem to be in pain from what I'm doing.

"You're going to get blood on you," he said gently.

"I know you see me as a former spoiled rich girl who doesn't know anything about life, but I'm not squeamish around blood. I'm used to it."

His hand that I'm holding stilled, and before I knew it, the roles were suddenly reversed, and now he's the one holding my hand.

"What are you—"

"What do you mean you're used to blood?" His eyes flash, letting me have a glimpse of what he looks like in front of his enemy. Only the anger in his eyes is not meant for me. "Who hurt you?"

"Nature?" I shook my head and sighed exasperatedly. "Women get their period every month, Allessio. I'm used to seeing blood. It might scare me for a moment, especially when it came from an obvious injury, but I'm not going to faint at the sight of it."

He visibly relaxed and then he let out a "hmm" that sent a spark of heat in the part of me that I rather not think about right now.

When I was done cleaning his hand, my gaze dropped on his shirt. "Take it off."

Instead of doing as I asked, he reached for the sash of my robe and tugged it loose. "Should we also take yours off?"

I glared at him and re-tired my robe before I looked at his shirt pointedly. "Off."

"You're aware that you're being bossy to a capo, right?"

"Yes. And so? I don't care if you're the president. Take. It. Off."

He must be finding me hilarious because he's grining from ear to ear. Rosa was right. Allessio could really be playful. He could be frightening at one moment, and then at the other, he's acting like a playful child.

Finally giving in, he took a step back to pull his shirt over his head. Nope. He definitely doesn't look like a child.

"I'm at your mercy. What do you plan to do now?" he asked with a challenge in his tone.

He has a lot of scars, most of them faded. The only new one is the one on his arm that looks deeply open and red.

"Oh my god. What happened? Who did this to you?"

"Calm, gattina. It's just a bullet graze."

"You need to be stitched up!" I bundled his shirt, and I wet it with water. With shaking hands, I started cleaning around the wound carefully. "You need to call the police."

He chuckled. "We don't exactly get along with the police."

I gritted my teeth. "Why did you even let yourself get hurt?"

"If I didn't, it would be one of my men's heads that would got shot at." He stopped my hand and pulled it, bringing me closer to him. "Don't worry. I didn't let him get away. He had worse, but unfortunately, he wouldn't feel the pain anymore."

I swallowed at the meaning behind his words. There was no mistaking what he's implying. The one who shot him is dead.

He touched my cheek with his knuckles. "Does that bother you?"

"Is he... is he innocent?"

"No." His gaze dropped to my lips. "Innocent people are rare in my world, gattina. They are either the ones who wanted us behind bars or they're the ones the people in my world see as our weakness."

"And... and what about me?"

He leaned down, his lips so close that I could almost feel him. "You're too pure for your own good."

"Am I a weakness then?"

"You don't want me in prison?"

I know the ethical response should be that I want him in prison. He's a criminal who's world revolves around everything that is illegal. Like my parents. But for some reason, what he does doesn't bother me as much as what my parents did.

I am aware that what Allessio is doing could result in a butterfly effect. Even if he's not targeting innocents, his actions could still indirectly hurt them. And yet he showed humanity more than a lot of people I encountered who's so wrapped up in their delusions that they are in the right. Like my boss in Sable... like my parents before their doings became too big to cover up. They hid behind their fake smiles and fake good intentions and hurt a lot of people. Until the end, they denied it, even if everything points to them being guilty. All they talked about in court was how unfair it is for them to be blamed for the deaths of all those people, and not once did they show remorse for it.

So no. I don't want Allessio in prison. If it means I'm as flawed as he is, then maybe I am.

"I don't."

Something crossed his eyes—something he didn't want me to see. Then, at the next moment, I found his lips on mine in a kiss that could only be described as claiming. It was as if I'm officially signing a deal that I can no longer back off to.

I should have pulled away. I should have tried to push him away. But every fiber of my being denies me of doing it. Instead, I found myself holding on to him as I answered his kiss back.

My breath hitched when his hands clasped on each side of my waist, and he pulled me up until I'm sitting on the counter.

Fresh blood trickled from his arm. "Your bleeding—"

He didn't let me finish, and he just pressed his lips to mine again. It deepened in a second, his tongue entering my mouth to explore it. I whimpered, my head spinning at the intensity of his kiss.

"You are," he whispered against my lips when he let me a moment to breathe. "You became my weakness, gattina."