Crave For You

Sofia

I have been awake for an hour. Still, making my eyes open to reality has been a task I think I will never achieve. My brain tells me that as long as I am asleep, or pretending to be so, I won't have to face the consequences (mostly of my own actions).

I feel safe here. The warm pressure of the duvet over me prevents me from finding a more comfortable space.

But there are voices here. Someone walks in, talks to him, and their steps drift off. I can feel his presence. He is watching me. The heat of his gaze pricks my skin. He has my heart beating unsteadily.

I give up trying to fight my brain, letting my actions win over as I open my eyes to the guest room of the mansion.

I start, sitting upright and my head swirls. I take in the chandelier, the big ensuite of a guest room with its golden accented designs. I had only been here once, during the tour with Helene. The gloom of disappointment sits on me before it can be stopped. I find myself dressed in a long T-shirt and panties, completely different from what I last remember wearing.

I stop my perusal of the room to land on him.

Gabriel is sitting on a winged-back chair, dressed in a stark black suit and pants. His ankle is hiked over the other knee, his hands are spread over the arms of the chair. His gaze rests on me, unflinching and his lips don't smile.

We meet in a stare that lasts for seconds but feels like hours before he breaks it.

"You don't belong here."

The words hit me like ice being splashed upon my dreams. I curl my fingers into the sheets underneath, my breaths struggling to escape.

Tears tease my eyes. I don't let them fall. They have fallen enough. Any more would tarnish their value.

"I know," I say, my voice like the dead—haunting and echoing. "Thanks for bringing me here still."

"Not that," he remarks, then eyes the room with its high ceiling that reaches the sky from my point of view. "You don't belong in this room."

I let out a breezy laugh, the action making me feel the dryness of my throat. "Which room do I belong to? The prison?"

"If the prison was my heart, then yes."

My cheeks heat, the intensity of his gaze scorching me. My dumb heart leaps even though I warn it to stay still.

To hide my reactions, I place my hands on my lap, staring down at the chipped nails which were all broken because Angelo wanted his women disciplined.

"What did you do to them?" I don't realize I have asked the question until the bed dips across as Gabriel shifts there.

He moves a finger over my toes which are peeking out from under the duvet. I pull my feet back, his touch only making me forget my condition.

"Giovanni is gone," he informs, his jaw clenching like he is offended by my little rebellion. "He won't hurt you anymore. He's ashes and dust."

"What of his empire?" A vision of Angelo's twitching body sweeps across me. The memory sends a chill, a difficult one that makes my skin feel tight. "Who does it belong to now?"

"Whoever's next in line."

"Do you know who that is?"

Gabriel adjusts his suit, buttoning it at the center. "I don't indulge myself in other Don's businesses." He turns to me, a smirk on his lips. "I indulge in you."

"How?" I demand, backing away when his hands place themselves on both sides of me, his knees digging into the mattress. "Didn't you leave me with my ghost? Didn't you tell me I was spoiled goods now?"