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LEONARDO

The shower was what I desperately needed the moment I entered the apartment after committing a few crimes.

I tore off the white, heavily bloodstained shirt, tossing it into the bin before eventually stepping into the shower and cleansing myself of the stains of my sins from earlier that evening.

With only a towel around my hips, I stepped out and wiped the vapour off the mirror to reveal the muscular torso I had built over the years covered in all sorts.

Unlike my brothers, I wasn't a fan of being under the needle. I had a few tattoos here and there, including Amalia's name written across the inside of my left wrist. She meant the world to me. My finger lightly lined the characters forming her name as I sighed softly, thinking of her little gummy smile. I missed her.

The course skin on my back felt like it was cracking, peeling apart, a familiar feeling. Wincing a little, I turned slightly to catch a glimpse of it. My eyes trailed across my back, splattered with remainders of my painful childhood, a constant recurring reminder that had permanently scarred me.

I had received many beatings from my father as a child, suffered irreversible damage to my skin. As usual, I applied the cool cream to my back as best as I could to soothe the pain, the stinging dryness on me. I could never escape what happened. All down my back, the back of my arms and neck. No one had ever seen the scars of torture on me, and no one ever would. It wasn't easy constantly covering myself up, wearing long sleeves shirts, hoodies, especially in summer. But I got used to it. I had to.

I reached my arms with the ointment and realised the inside of my arms were somehow healing with the red marks and lines beginning to fade and seal themselves. My eyebrows raised slightly as I stared in perplexity at them. It was then that I realised I hadn't cut for a while. I had completely forgotten what it felt like to have the urge to release blood from my skin.

"Stop punishing yourself, Leo."

"It pains me to see you doing this to yourself."

What had she done to me? I could still hear the sadness flowing through her words from that night after seeing the Lemaires. I swallowed, wondering if it was possible that I had actually, somehow, gotten better?

I liked having her around. I would never admit that fact to anyone, ever, but deep down, I knew it. I could feel it. It was becoming increasingly impossible to deny myself. Her presence made me feel normal again. I didn't have to be a demeaning Don or maintain a false strong persona when she was around. She could read me like a book and uncover things I didn't even know about myself.

"I never said that I loved her."

He chuckled, his dark, menacing eyes looking down at me kneeling on the cold ground. My fingers curled, clutching the fabric of my trousers as I kept my eyes on the floor. My heart was racing, I knew talking back to him was a risk. Despite being whipped earlier by the belt that was lying on the ground beside his black shoes, I wasn't afraid. Years of beatings had made me immune to his torture, they were all the same.

My back was soaked with warm blood sticking my ripped t-shirt against my skin. I had to ignore the waves of stinging pain coursing through me, the feeling of nausea and exhaustion mixing into one, draining me second by second.

He sat casually on the large maroon chair, his legs widely apart and his hands resting on the wooden arms. A deep chuckle came from him and I knew it wasn't friendly; he was incapable of kindness.

"You think I didn't see the two of you eye-fucking each other during dinner?"

I held back from tensing up. He was delusional - there was no romance involved. I thought of her again. Those luminescent, grey eyes catching mine throughout that evening. My father had gathered several families that night and it was no surprise that she would be there. We couldn't resist making contact, she mesmerised me. I had no idea that with all those people there, he was watching me.

"I told you. You are marrying that bitch as an alliance, not for feelings. The most pathetic weakness a Don could have is his family or a fucking wife. They are accessories only."

"I do not love her," I coldly reiterated, clenching my jaw as I stared hard at the ground, feeling the anger begin to rise within me. "She is nothing to me." She was everything to me.

He stood and my hands held onto the fabric harder, veins beginning to pop out beneath my skin. He was enormously tall and much, much more bigger than me, with bulging muscles and inhumane amounts of strength; it was no wonder he was the most powerful mafia man to exist. I was merely a weak boy, unable to defend myself against such a demon. With one rough hand, he grabbed my shirt and lifted me off the ground, blocking full access to air as his knuckles pressed against my throat.

I was forced to look into those evil, malicious eyes as he lowly commanded, "say it. Say it so you can remember who you are." I choked for air, struggling against his tight grip. A familiar, demonic laughter came from him as he cackled in my face. I glowered at him, unable to hide the deep hatred I had for such an animal.

"I am incapable of love, incapable of having happiness. There is no such thing in this world. Anger is the only feeling I have."

"And what about her?"

"She is the womb for my heirs. The body for my pleasure. There is no such thing as love in this world."

A sinister smile crept onto his malevolent face, a twisted expression from the glory of hearing a satisfactory response. "Good."

My body slammed against the wall as he tossed me to the side, my bloodied back ached with soaring pain as I fell to the ground with a wince, holding in the excruciating screams I so badly needed to release.

"Since you understand," he remarked with a menacing grin. I brought myself slowly to my knees once more, breathlessly heaving for the air that was knocked out of me. He then tossed the blade before my knees, chuckling darkly. "Punish yourself. Punish yourself for even thinking of her."

Immediately, I took the blade and pressed it against my damaged skin, raw blood seeping out quickly, producing a stinging pain running up and down my arm. I bit down on my lip hard, ignoring the warnings my body was giving me.

Over and over again until he was satisfied my self-torture.

It was what I deserved for wanting her.

My eyes trailed down to the drawer and opened it slowly, revealing the small, sharp blade laid neatly at the corner of the drawer. I stared at it, feeling a lump begin to form in my throat. I felt sick to my stomach, a reminder that my punishment was overdue. That began a moment of debate within me. I wasn't supposed to fall for her, I wasn't supposed to let her in but I couldn't stop it.

She was already held in a special place in my heart that I had no idea even existed. I needed her, I couldn't let her go. I had become weak, vulnerable to her love.

A sudden opening of the door drew me out of my pondering. Alarmed, I instantly picked up the gown to lift before me, blocking any sight of my upper body and unconsciously yelled loudly, "get out!"

I didn't mean it. I wasn't one to shout but it slipped out of me so quickly. I couldn't control my panic at the horror that she might have seen my back.

The door slammed shut swiftly followed by a meek, "sorry! I didn't mean to - I'm sorry - I didn't see anything."

I had completely forgotten to lock the door. I exhaled to calm down, recognising the familiar sweet voice, as I wrapped the gown around me, taking off the towel and shutting the drawer. I replied with guilt more gently, "no, I'm sorry." I opened the door and instantly met a pair of solemn grey eyes.

She looked shy for once, her fingers intertwined with each other nervously as she struggled to meet my eyes. I hoped inside that she hadn't seen anything on me. "Sorry for shouting," I gingerly reiterated, realised her warm eyes had fell down to my slightly exposed chest before reaching my face once again. Her cheeks had become rosy.

"I'm leaving for a little bit," Maria uttered unexpectedly, moving some of her soft hair behind her ear, exposing her dazzling earring. My eyebrows furrowed at her, confused. "I've spoken to Luna and I. .I think it's best if we have some space." I noticed the duffel bag on the floor not to far away.

I frowned, "what happened? I thought you guys were talking." Maria gave me a small smile that didn't match her melancholy eyes, shaking her head. "Please can you take care of my sister? I'll be back, I'll only be a few days." She turned and picked up the bag with a sigh, about to turn until I took her hand, pulling her to me but I was stronger than I expected, bringing her right to my chest.

She gasped a little in surprise, slowly lifting her eyes to meet mine. "Don't go," I murmured, seeing how tired she looked. "It's not safe and-"

"Leo," Maria gently groaned in a serious tone, a certain sign to tell me not to hold her back. "I'll be back and I'll call you every night to make sure I'm fine and she's fine. Please look after her. Can you do that for me?" I couldn't say no to that voice. Her eyes gazed up with sincere hope and desperation. I sighed before nodding a little, despite wanting her to stay.

"You've cried so much these past few days," I mumbled, not stopping myself from my thumb gently rubbing her smooth cheek. She slightly raised the corner of her lips again before moving away and taking the bag.

"I'll call you," she said reassuringly before making her way to the front door.

My head turned to look into the direction of the bedroom. I knew Maria wouldn't want me to, but I had to speak to Luna since things had already reached to that point.

It was later the next day when I had decided to confront Maria's sister.

I saw the nurse out and made my way to the bedroom. Knocking on the door gently, a grumble of, "come in," allowed me to open it and my eyes landed on Luna sat on the bed with the duvet covering her, her attention fully on her phone.

When her eyes lifted to me, she looked somewhat surprised to see me which was understandable since we hadn't formally met since she was a young child.

As I shut the door behind me, she sat more upright, clearing her throat and fixing her frizzy hair. "Thanks for letting me crash here," Luna quietly said, her voice was still hoarse, "I'll be out of your hair by the end of this week." Her grey eyes were slightly darker than Maria's. They are bloodshot, I had heard her crying alone the night Maria left.

"Stay as long as you need," I responded, feeling the awkwardness. I walked towards the window, sitting on the edge of the windowsill. She nodded, looking around the room.

"You must be wondering what I'm doing here," I began, clasping my hands together. "I want you to understand something."

"Understand what?" Luna slowly replied in a uncertain voice, curiously looking at me.

"Your sister. Maria."

Luna, in annoyance, sighed, rolling her eyes as she averted her eyes away. "Look, if you're here to stand up for her or some lovey dovey bullshit like that-"

"Luna." I stopped her in a more grave tone, recognising how defensive she was becoming at the sound of her older sister. "I'm not here to play therapist, I'm here to make you comprehend how much you don't know her."

"And what do you know about her? What she likes in a guy?"

"More than you know," I sharply responded, narrowing my eyebrows at her. "I have seen her through thick and thin." She huffed, folding her arms, pursing her lips. "She has you wrapped around her little finger just like the rest of them," Luna muttered bitterly.

I exhaled to calm myself down. "Who?"

"Everyone. Including my parents."

She was frowning. Luna was broken from unresolved, childhood memories, I could see where her bitterness was coming from.

"Your parents?"

"I heard her once," Luna said, her eyes low and solemn. "Telling them to send me away. She used to hate it whenever I came over from boarding school. She hated when the attention was on me, always wanting to be the star." She unhappily chuckled, looking deeply hurt. "So they'd send me back to that hell as soon as they could."

"You think she did that for their attention?" I asked, wanting a confirmation.

Her eyes flickered to mine as she replied with certainty, "of course. She never wanted me there, so I don't know why she keeps pretending that she actually cares about me."

I looked at her for a moment before saying, "you don't know your sister very well or your parents." Luna didn't respond; simply giving me a confused look before questioning, "what do you mean?"

"I used to live near your family as a child. Your mother was a famous performer but an awful alcohol addict behind closed doors. As for your father, a greedy motherfucker who was a slave to money." She lifted her head slightly, her doe eyes snapped to mine and expanded at my words. She looked intrigued to hear more about her absent family.

"They only showed you their good side when you came home," I explained in a collected manner. "Because you were their angel. The child they actually wanted and planned for when their marriage was surprisingly going well. Yes, your sister was the advocate for you to go to boarding school and the reason isn't for the attention - in fact, she hated it."

I continued to divulge, "you think that your sister was lucky to be chosen by your mother to follow her footsteps? While you were gone, she abused Maria. Starved her, worked her like a dog, sold her childhood, her body, her life to companies to make her an exact replica of herself. Your mother, who had lost her passion because of your selfish father, tormented your sister in order to make sure her hard work wasn't wasted by keeping her in a practice room all day, every day and night."

"You got a way out. Maria made sure you never saw what trauma she was going through by sending you away, because the moment you would leave, the torture would begin. She protected you - she never wanted you to experience what she had. Instead, you got to leave peacefully, choose what you wanted to do with your life." A tear slipped out of Luna's eye and she quickly wiped it away, her hands loosened and shook gently as she stared at me in disbelief.

"You're lying. My mother would never-"

"Your mother," I harshly interjected, narrowing my eyebrows at her. "Was your sister's abuser. I could go on and on about all the evil things she did to your sister, that Maria took so you would never have to endure. She didn't know what was happening at your school, all she knew was that you were safer away than in your own home. You're not a child anymore, Luna. You need to grow up and realise who the real fucking villains are."

Luna exclaimed, "she doesn't care about me! Stop lying to protect her-"

"I'm telling you the truth to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life," I loudly retorted, watching the tears begin to run down her cheeks before she buried her face into her hands. I sighed, hoping she has beginning to see the error of her way. "Don't regret not taking this opportunity to reconcile with your sister. Life's too short to stay angry at each other, she's all you have."

"You have a lot to talk about with each other," I said more quietly, glad that she picked up a tissue from the box on the table beside her, wiping her wet eyes. Regret was written all over her small face. "I'm not invalidating your feelings, Luna. I understand what you've been through. I know you had a difficult time, but being angry isn't going to erase what happened."

"I-Is. ." Luna sniffled, swallowing tearfully. "Is she happy?" Her guilt-stricken face turned to face mine. My face softened, nodding slightly though I was little baffled by her question.

"I. . .hope so. ."

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~ Author's Note ~

This chapter was set before the previous chapter and shows what Leonardo was referring to before.

Luna finally knows the truth about her sister - will this impact on the relationship with her sister in the future?

Leonardo's past sheds light on why he self-harms - his father. But thankfully, he hadn't realised that he had stopped doing that since his conversation with Maria about it. He's already starting to heal! As you read on, his healing journey will continue!

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