You Can't Buy My Heart, Mr. Vitiello

Ross

her gaze dropped to her dress. A single drop of

profound I could hear the ice

sobering instantly as the realization of who sto

draw a weapon. He simply looked at the

Dante said to the r

one. The soldiers, the waitresses, the hangers-on. They scramble

with wine. Dante turned his head slightly, hi

ena," he sai

ad warmed his bed, listened to his silence, and tended to his wounds.

d, a foolish plea

ow

wn to my own expiration. As I passed them, Sofia looked at me. Her gaze wasn't malicious; it was in

eard Sofia ask as the

Dante replied.

ng the sound of their reunion behind me. I leaned ag

red-was a blur. When I arrived, the apartment felt vast and empty. It was a museu

dress Dante had bought me, and stood under

the nightm

n his knees, weeping, his fingers broken. A man in a tail

ree years. Your fre

drenching my sheets. The

d. Heavy footsteps e

was

he door handle turned, and he filled the frame, smell

," he said, h

e simmering just beneath the surface. He looked at me, but I knew he wasn't seeing me

I whispered, pul

"I paid for this time, E

felt like hatred. His hands were too hard, his rhythm punishing. He buried his face in

ody rocking with his thrusts. I didn't cr

, I cal

nt, hidden under a fake name, had enough for a plane ticket and t

his weight onto me. For a moment, his heart beat against min

elt like a clo

urning his back

ttered into the pillow. "Y

tween us like a vast ocean. He was right. I

I would smel