Devoted: A Dark Mafia Romance (Beneath The Mask Series Book 3)
Devoted: Chapter 14

I pace around the kitchen, my mind reeling from this morning. I can’t stand these nightmares. It has been so long since I found my drinking cure. I forgot how real they feel; it’s like Dante is there in the room with me, and I’m that innocent seventeen-year-old again whose world is about to be ripped apart.

I itch at my neck. I can’t let Luca see me like this again.

When he touched my face, it was like everything melted away for a second. It’s more than that. It’s his comforting strength and the way he holds me through my nightmares.

It’s like he sees me.

He just knows what I need and doesn’t falter.

But, he doesn’t know me. No one does. The pain that I endured is impossible to understand.

I throw open the next cupboard on my hunt for some alcohol. The one thing I know can ‘fix’ me for now. I can’t be feeling these things for Luca.

My body is a furnace, and the sweat is dripping off of my forehead. I can’t focus on anything else right now except something that will make this stop.

Packets of pasta? Jars of sauce? There’s a bottle in the back, but when I reach for it, it’s soy sauce. There’s nothing here that can help.

“Fuck!” I shout.

Taking a step back, I look at the chaos in front of me. Every cupboard door is open, food is thrown all over the countertops and floor. Anyone seeing this would think he’s been robbed. Running my shaking hand through my hair, I wonder what am I doing? What has happened to me?

I don’t want to drink. I don’t want the torture of weaning myself off again. I just need Dante to go.

Acid burns its way up into my throat, my trembling hands lace around my neck as I try to swallow it down.

Taking a step back, I pick up the glass container and hurl it against the wall while letting out a scream.

I’m so broken and I don’t know how to fix myself.

How do I get him out of my brain?

Rushing over to the sink, I grab the marble counter and throw up. My stomach heaves as I try to catch my breath. I start to panic when I can’t stop. My whole body quakes as I pull at my hair and thud down onto the floor. The shards of glass scratch into the flesh of my thighs. Bringing my knees up against my chest, I close my eyes.

Dante’s jet-black eyes stare back at me as his hand muffles my mouth to stop my screams. His heavy frame pinning me underneath him. I squeeze my eyes shut, and bile rises up my throat again as I remember the way he ripped off my towel and bit me, drawing blood. Then, the moment he flipped me over and held me down.

“This virgin cunt is mine. Only mine.” The words replay on a loop in my head. And it’s always followed by the pain.

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