Chapter 10

The next few days, Lola can't stand it. He's back to being his usual cold, cut off self and after the day they had Sunday, she'd found some part of her more open to the prospect of welcoming in as a friend. Of course, she'd repressed the whole orgasm episode, deciding that it was a mistake made in the heat of the moment. But excluding that, she can try see Carlos as a friend. Or somewhat of a friend. And that in itself disturbs her. Because who could be friends with such a monster. Only...The more she analyses her short stay so far with Carlos Castellano the more she finds herself doubting her preconceived notions about him. Yes he has said he kills. And yes, he has made many a horrible remarks and threats towards her. Yet...She has not witnessed him do any of these actions. Does that make her niave? Or is she simply choosing to be blissfully ignorant?

Or....

Or is the persona he presents just a front?

But then again, maybe it's those silly romance novels floating around nowadays where the 'bad boys' aren't actually that bad. Or rather the heroine is attracted to them despite their obnoxious, arrogant, possessive nature. She'd hate to think of herself like that. And Carlos certainly does project all those said attributes.

But then why does she feel that's not really him?

All she knows is though, that she just can't take one step forward and two backwards with him. Not anymore. That's not a dance she's willing to participate in and that night, that day-they crossed that line. She crossed that metaphorical line in accepting him. Maybe not fully, but she accepts her fate now. The reality of living with Carlos has finally set in and she has finally come to grips with the fact she's going to be here an indefinite amount of time.

So this tip-toeing thing they have going on is just not going to work for her. Her mind still reels with anger and distress at her situation and at the man Carlos is; so she finally decides, for peace of mind, she needs to live in a state of blissful ignorance, imaging Carlos as a roommate rather than her captor.

She needs that. Because hating him, ignoring him is far too exhausting. And after her long shifts at work, she just doesn't have the energy to focus on and analyse his hot and cold attitude towards her.

That Friday, she prepares to confront him, bully him into allowing her to indulge in her tinted vision of him and their status.

"When will dinner be ready?" he asks, gazing around at kitchen after his regular shower.

"Dinner will be a while. I want to talk to you first," she states steadily, signalling him to take a seat while she mirrors the action.

"What is there to talk about?" he asks icily.

Lola simply shakes her head, "I can't do it anymore Carlos. I'm-I'm loosing my mind.....Look, can we just-can we just...pretend we're roommates or something? I need you to be more consistent with me. Hate me or like me. Just pick one!"

Normally if someone treated her like that, she would just leave him or her. However that is clearly not an option with Carlos.

Carlos takes a moment to analyse the situation before calculatedly stating, "I neither hate or like you, Lola. You are a liability to me but a burden I must carry."

She ignores the sting from those words before snorting in disbelief, "see I don't think so. I think you do somewhere in there like me. I think you do want to be friends."

Carlos's eyes go wide in amusement and shock before he smirks. Those lush lips pulling up into such an attractive position, momentarily distracts her before she reminds herself the topic of conversation.

"You truly have started loosing your mind, Miss Beaumont if you believe that.-"

Lola quickly interrupts him before he can continue mocking her, "then tell me why you haven't hurt me?"

Because aren't big bad mobsters supposed to be violent, misogynistic assholes? Yet apart from his empty threats and coaxing her sexual submission to him, what has he truly done to her?

"You want me to hurt you Lola?" he retorts.

She quickly shakes her head, "no. No that's what I'm saying. You want to hate me but you don't. You've not once been violent; your threats towards me are empty and you somewhat indulge me. That to me, doesn't sound like hate. Or distain or even indifference. That sounds like you like me, on some level."

Carlos is left speechless. He has nothing to counter that because just as he fears she's slowly piecing it together and if she's piecing it so fast, how long before his brother and father do the same? He should be more careful. He shouldn't have been so lenient, so...soft.

His chair scraping against the tiles cuts the silence as he propels himself away from the table and ideally the conversation.

"I'm right. I'm right, aren't I?" prods Lola as she rises too, albeit more gracefully than him. Her brown eyes sparkle as her small, plump lips curve into a beautiful smile that just infuriates Carlos as he finds himself drawn to that sweet, sweet mouth of hers.

"Absolutely not, Lola. Cease this silly delusion of yours at once!" he grits out.

But Lola's on a role. Desperation is concealed in his gorgeous face but she can see it all too clearly and she knows what that means.

"No!" she cries, "I'm right. You know I'm right, Carlos. You're not as tough as you think. I'm starting to see you now and that scares you, doesn't it?"

Carlos smashes his fist down onto the marble kitchen counter, "stop this! What would you have me do, Lola? Hit you? Is that what you want? Will that finally snap you out of his delirious state? I am not some project for you. This is not some fairy-tale!"

She knows that. She doesn't claim that he's virtuous, she knows he's far from that. But she also knows that he won't hurt her. For whatever reason he's not...hurting him. Or at trying not to but wanting to project himself to her as the big bad wolf.

"I don't want you to hit me Carlos. I'm saying...you won't," she calmly states, feeling more in control than she's ever been in his presence. For once, she has the upper hand and she'll be damned if she lets it go without a proper battle for it.

"You've given me no reason to," he responds just as evenly.

An insane idea sparks in Lola as she picks the nearest glass off the counter. Not dwelling too much on her actions, she extends her arm backwards and propels the glass cup with as much force as she can just past his head. The transparent glass shatters instantly into the wall behind them, just as Carlos grabs her waist and throws them back behind the kitchen counters. As the shrill sound of the smashing utensil dies out, he leaps back onto her feet pulling her along with him.

"What the hell are you doing?!" he cries in outrage.

Clearly she had not been aiming for him because from such a short range there would be no way she could miss. But what point is she proving with breaking his things?

"There. I-I shattered your cup. Is that reason enough to hit me?" she asks.

"What?" he echoes dumbfounded.

"Hit me Carlos," challenges Lola, her chin jutting out in stubbornness.

He gazes down at her stern expression, realising with horror that she's completely serious. His hands are gripping her shoulders and there they have frozen because he cannot raise one to her.

Even just imagining his palm connecting forcefully to her cheek has him recoiling in disgust. He can't do it. He just can't. He's unfortunately, witnessed it all too many times. His father extends the same amount of minimal mercy towards women that have crossed him as men but it is only his brother he has witnessed expressing violence against the innocent. And Carlos knows doing this, his soul would reflect another piece of that of his brother and father. The dark Castellano blood; thick, infectious and disgusting.

Like her skin is fire and his hands are ice, he drops them. Stepping backwards as he'd captivated by those large innocent eyes.

"No. No...no," he mumbles turning his back to her and striding into his study.

Lola's left stunned in the kitchen. God, she's never seen Carlos like that. And while is scares her, it was a necessary evil. She follows his footsteps, softly slipping through the ajar study door to find him slumped over his desk with his face in his hands.

Her offense immediately crumbles as she hesitantly places an arm around his shoulders offering as much comfort as she can without overstepping.

Carlos inhales deeply, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms and just let her hold him. Instead he tries to gather his remaining wits to figure this whole mess out.

"Lola," he states shoulders rolling back and head lifting as she drops her hand.

"I-I...overstepped. I'm sorry," she apologises the fear of her actions finally settling in as she witnesses a calm and collected Carlos before her. The rattled Carlos is much easier for her to deal with than the controlled Carlos.

He simply sighs, "yes you did but in this instance, you're right. I have tried to be indifferent towards you and clearly it is not working. So yes, we can be civil towards each other but that still means you live under my guidelines and we are nothing more than acquaintances."

She hadn't been expecting that. Taken aback, Lola blinks in surprise before finding her voice again, "okay, I can do that."

Carlos nods about to clarify further when his phone buzzes.

Seeing the caller ID, he immediately answers it speaking in rapid Italian to which Lola is ignorant to. If only her high-school had offered Italian rather than Spanish.

His tone remains even but cold.

"I'm leaving. I'll be back late," he states as he ends the call.

What can she say to that except that she'll stay out of his way?

He sighs, gazing in this rear-view mirror as he adjusts his tie and smoothens his combed hair. Appearance is everything to his father and as the eldest son, Carlos is certainly expected to dress the part. With a deep breath, he steps out pocketing his keys and striding towards the large mansion before him. Knocking on the sturdy oak door, it's opened by a butler he knows is just one of the many that are employed under the good old Mayor (although seeing as this employee is male, probably one of the few to not be sexually harassed by the man as well).

"Master Castellano, welcome, the other gentlemen have been expecting you," he states, taking Carlos's jacket and leading him down a series of wide hallways towards the back of the house.

The interior is decorated completely over the top, with no doubt more expensive new pieces having been added since the last time he visited. He knows in the expansive living room there's a portrait of the man with his wife and two kids, both of whom are in their early 20s now and therefore shipped to some college. The wife is naturally a wholesome looking woman but the few times Carlos has seen her, he knows that it's not apple juice in the hip flask she sneaks sips off. Then there's the man himself-Mayor Tucker.

Of course he's Caucasian, born and raised in this very town itself to two working class parents who after his ascent into politics lost all contact with their sweet little boy, realising he is no longer the man they raised. Instead that little boy is swallowed by an overweight, 5 foot 6 man with a balding head of hair which he covers with a toupee and a undying thirst for material possessions. This greedy, lazy, loose morale creature is definitely a primed product of his father's; for this Mayor can be easily manipulated and controlled. Thereby controlling the city. And Tucker would never double-cross because he knows as well as any opposing candidate in this city that Castellano backing is golden. That is even if Tucker could gather the same amount of funds Carlos's father invests in the campaigns, there's no way his campaign managers and staff would be sticking around for long.

Entering the smokey room, Carlos can see this is most definitely where the party is at. The room has a small bar along one side, managed by a bar-man focusing so hard on cleaning the shining glasses he deludes himself into pretending he cannot see the obvious lure behaviour around him. There are many scantily clad women around, the way some hold themselves with poise and self-confidence clearly indicating that they are the higher end entertainers whereas those staring around with glazed eyes and sadness in their stance indicating the lower end ones.

He strides towards the centre where a large poker table is set up and a full game is underway. He spots his father straight away; the short man has a Cuban cigar between his paper lips and is dressed in one of his many pin-strip suits. Beside him sits Marco, smirking as he has a nervous looking girl sat on his lap and his hand under his table, no doubt feeling his prey. In his other hand he holds his cards yet has little interest in them. On the other side of Alberto, there is an empty seat, clearly meant for him.

"Padre, pardon my tardiness," stoically apologises Carlos, kissing his father's cheeks briefly and taking a seat at his father's nod of forgiveness.

Carlos represses the snarl of annoyance he feels being seated across from the Mayor but keeps it to himself. The Mayor is definitely enjoying the night's entertainment as he has one on each lap, feigning giggles and fingering at his bursting shirt buttons.

There are a few others around the table too such as; the police commissioner, a few county executives and judges.

"We are just about to start a new game," rasps his father causing the others except his brother and himself to hold in their annoyed groans.

Carlos realises they must actually be in the middle of a round but of course, who would dare contradict his father?

So dealing again, they set forth in another match.

A few games in and Marco is getting bored. Carlos can tell by the way he starts teasing and taking jabs at Carlos. Of course, it may also be due to the winning streak Carlos has but Carlos has always been better at remaining focused and taking calculated risks than Marco.

"So many beautiful women around Carlos and yet you don't indulge. What's the matter, brother? Do we have the wrong gender?" smirks Marco with a laugh at the end.

Carlos simply rolls his eyes giving his brother a side long glance before turning to his cards.

"You know I maintain a strict diet, Marco," states Carlos, "I have had my fair share already, my thirst has been sated...though I thank you for your concern."

Carlos can see the small lift of his father's lips in approval.

Marco laughs in response, "yeah well, maybe you should get your fill now, brother. Pretty soon, you're going to be chained in marriage."

That brings about a ruckus of laughter around the table as several others start complaining about the chore of marriage.

Carlos can only stiffly smile at it all, forcing thoughts of his would-be marriage to the right woman out of his mind. Focusing on Valentina at such a time is not a good idea at all.

"Your brother is right, Carlos. Go. Go indulge for a while, I am sure we can manage without you for a while," insists his father, knowing that he will need to marry his eldest son soon.

Carlos's fingers twitches against the cards before he lets it go. Grimacing he rises glancing around to pick the most nervous girl around. But placing his cards down too, Marco announces to him that he has just the person for him.

Naturally cautious, Carlos can only wait as Marco, brings forth a beautiful pale woman with long lean legs even without the silhouette heels and a well proportioned body. It's only when his eyes reach her face that he has to hide his shock.

Those poised features, those sleek sultry eyes, that long curled black waves...she looks just like his Valentina. Especially with that make-up on. She looks like Valentina did coming back from her modelling jobs. Although...Valentina was a lot more dressed in the company of others.

"Carlos this is Anna. She'd love to take you on a tour," he states practically thrusting the poor woman in his arms.

His stiff arm uncomfortably rests around her exposed waist as she slips her hand around him and tugs him out.

Carlos is still dazed as she pulls him into one of the large guest bedrooms in the place. The sound of the door shutting seems to finally snap him out of it as he tries to concentrate on the woman before him as not being his Valentina.

Anna's gaze is hungry, a satisfied smirk at her lips as she eyes the fine specimen before her. And to think tonight, she thought she'd be keeping some old, fat creep company. Instead she has the better Castellano brother. Of course she knows of both, having worked in their services for years now but never has she been important enough to actually meet them. There were glimpses inside the club of their comings and goings and she'd heard all the rumours. The ones were the youngest is a vicious animal in the sack (and not in the good way) whereas the older one although so very handsome rarely mixes with their sort.

So of course, when she'd caught the eye of the younger Castellano, she'd been apprehensive but now...

"Mr Castellano-the other Mr Castellano-said you wanted to call me Valentina?" she hesitantly asks, wondering what kind of a lover this brother is like.

Carlos glares at her, snapping "no!" causing her to recoil.

Rubbing his forehead he backtracks, "I apologise. I should not have snapped at you. But in the most respectful way, I don't want to have sex with you."

Now she's lost...and confused.

"Uh...I don't-I don't understand. I'm clean if that's what you're worried about and I won't say anything to your girlfriend."

She natters on as he paces the room for a few moments, trying to gather his thoughts and wondering what to do about this whole situation. Of course if he doesn't sleep with the girl, his brother's going to definitely know something is very wrong and that will just snowball into a bigger headache. But as it stands right now, Carlos isn't sure he really can have sex with her. The thought of being inside her, gazing at her face and seeing his ex-fiancé is far too disturbing. Then simple. He'll just close his eyes or have her in a position where he's not directly looking at her. Yes, that he can do. Yeah...easy enough.

Tossing, his blazer onto a chair, he tugs off his belt and cocks his finger, motioning her forwards. She slithers towards him, trying to supress her grin.

"Don't speak," he commands to which she nods at.

As he unbuttons his trousers, she easily falls to her knees, hands easing down the necessary clothing in order to free his flaccid díck. Muttering no words, she uses her skilled hands and mouth to work it into its erect state, purring in delight when he finally gets more involved and delves one of those large hands into her hair. When he grips those roots slightly tighter, she glances, catching his heavy gaze.

In his lust-induced state, Carlos doesn't see Anna on her knees or even Valentina, no instead it's...Lola. It's Lola with her doe brown eyes and petite hands that he pictures is pleasuring him. How twisted is that? When a woman who looks like the love of his life sucks his díck and all he can imagine is a different woman? A woman whom he has blackmailed into living with him. What a sick, twisted fucker.

With a growl, his rips himself away from the woman on the floor, catching her elbow and hoisting her up sharply.

"On the bed," he simply states allowing her to slip off the lingerie she has on while he searches wildly in the desk drawers for condoms.

In this house, they are stocked plenty and for that he's thankful.

Smoothing it on, he rolls onto his back and pulls her on top, forcing her to sit with her back to him. The reverse cowgirl position means that while she slithers onto him, he can simply lie back and force thoughts of any consequences of his actions out of his mind.

He needs this short escape, especially when even his sleep is plagued by the consequences of the sum of his actions. Valentina, Lola and countless other lives....all ruined by him.

Fist grasping large chunks of wavy dark hair, Carlos gives into the primitive action, focusing only on the basic lust and drive to procreate.

His thrusts grow in urgency; the grip on her hips strengthening as she bows forwards and steadies herself on the bedsheets. Moans and grunts ring out the room as they are lost in the process. The rush of hormones and lust propel them into blissful release, a state of which Carlos completely relishes. His body and mind feeling like it's floating in stress-free heaven with no worry or guilt weighing him down. The high is far too great to come down, yet it's not a choice and all too quickly Carlos feels his dark soul colliding back into his body.

The girl is still on top of him, slumped forwards as she gathers her own breath.

Not all that gently, Carlos brutishly topples her sideward, before he slides out from under her and disposes off the used condom. Straightening his crumpled attire as best he can, he glides on the blazer and regards the woman splayed out on the bed rather coldly.

"Get dressed, I will escort you back," he demands tossing over the flimsy translucent lingerie towards her.

She's slow to sit upright, redressing herself in a blissful dazed way causing only irritation to grow in Carlos. He knows his irrational annoyance towards her is just a deflection of it from himself. He shouldn't have done that. He shouldn't have used sex as some sort of tool for escape however tempting the opportunity. Yet, he cannot regret those moments of release, where he can allow his body to speak the words his mouth will not.

True to his word Carlos silently escorts the woman back and slides back into his seat. The others say nothing but of course his brother would.

"Well, that didn't take long Carlos. What's the matter? Had some probl-"

"Efficiency is everything Marco. Besides, unlike you, I do not toy with my food," interrupts Carlos in no mood now to spar with his brother.

Thankfully, Marco says nothing afterwards, simply shrugging his shoulders knowing full well that he does enjoy the playing games with his toys.

"In fact gentlemen, it has been a long day and I believe it is time I take my leave," he states with a nod about to rise when his father's hand lies onto his forearm.

"I'll see you out," he states, his standing initiating the respectful rise of the others.

They walk in silence to the main door until his father before his father steps to corner, gaining them privacy.

"The Moretti's are sniffing around Carlos," he states in hushed Italian while Carlos furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

A few years ago, back when he was in college, the Moretti's came to power in one of the neighbouring towns but were quickly willing to make an agreement with the Castellano's to not allow their businesses to clash. So far, apart from the minor spats there have been no major incidents.

"How so?" asks Carlos.

"Marco says a few of their guys tried to intercept a shipment. They were dealt with and we did not lose any product but it looks like they're getting greedy. We do not want this to escalate into a war so I want you to keep an eye on them. I'll have some men monitor them, they'll report back to you anything unusual, anything to indicate the Moretti's are planning on making a move against us and you shut it down."

Carlos nods in agreement, "yes Father."

His father nods back, cupping his son's cheek and lightly patting, "good. Now make sure you come visit home soon, you mother has been complaining about it for a while now."

Carlos grimaces at that. Of course, his mother has been complaining. She didn't even want him to leave the house. Didn't want him to go to college or get his own apartment. No, he knows his mother's view on his lifestyle. She wants him to be like Marco, involved completely and whole-heartedly in the family business with no other engagements.

All too soon, Carlos arrives back at the apartment, once again his body hesitating at the entrance to Lola's bedroom. He doesn't deserve that tonight. After being with another woman-indulging himself-he definitely doesn't deserve any comfort he gains from her.

Instead he retires to his own bedroom, stripping down and stepping into his bathroom, scrubbing harshly as he tries to release himself from his skin. But if only cleansing the night's activities of his body could be as easy as it is from his mind. That stickiness of guilt will forever haunt him since the one person who can grant him forgiveness for that sin is long gone. So for now he will have to learn to live with it. 

A/n Another downer chapter, maybe I'm a sadist but I just love writing Carlos's torture. :P haha, anyway, I shall try and update again on Monday but I warn you, it is a busy week for me so it may be a few days late :) x