Blame it on the shame Part 3

Chapter 16 (Ricardo)

I slam the door behind me and lean against it.

Christ, I'd forgotten how much my little angel could be the devil herself when she wants to be.

Usually I'm fond of her claws, mostly when she's digging them into my back, and not using them to pummel me with lies involving another man just to get a rise out of me.

And now because the bitch in her got what she wanted from the asshole in me and I lost control and told her that dipshit was dead, I can no longer use him or what happened to explain why I'm keeping her here until further notice.

Then again, maybe it's best that I don't explain it at all...let her think what she wants. I know she already does and is going to anyway.

Besides, she's already seen the very thing I didn't want her to see—the monster I wanted to shield her from.

And like I predicted, she hates me even more for it, only proving Ernesto's point.

I fish my pack of cigarettes out of my pocket and light one. It's a bullshit attempt at trying to take the edge off but it's better than nothing.

There are only two things that will take the edge off long enough to have an impact.

And one of them I can't have.

I suck the smoke down my throat and smirk. Because that's not exactly true.

I know I could march right back in there and take her every which way I want to—but it wouldn't be the same thing as having her.

If I take her the way he did...the way they did...then I really am the monster she already thinks I am.

So I won't. Because although I've done and will do many fucked up things in this world...I won't do that. And most definitely not to her.

If she ever falters and gives me an inch because she actually wants to...then I'll gladly take the fucking mile and then some—but not a moment before.

I suck my cigarette down to the filter and feel my entire body go rigid when my phone vibrates.

I hope to hell it's a message telling me that the thing I need to clear my head is waiting for me at the warehouse.

I'm not a good man, I never will be.

Especially now that my moral code is all kinds of fucked up the further down this black hole I travel and I'm making the rules up as I go lately.

But for a few fleeting moments—the moments when life is about to leave those rapists' eyes and I'm the one in control of them—and I'm the one taking something from them.

I almost feel like the hero. I almost feel like I'm correcting my mistakes and worthy of both my mother's and Lou-Lou's forgiveness.

That is until I look in the mirror...and finally see what was there all along.

I'm Bruno DeLuca's son and I have his blood pumping through my veins, feeding the darkness within me. His blood ensuring my fate—to become him.

And now I am—because the DeLuca's always win in the end.

My guts knot and my heart crushes against my chest with my next thought—I'm cursed and now I've infected everyone I care about with my poison.

And the only cure is death.

“She doesn't want to do anything until she knows why she's here,” Marlene tells me, trying her hardest to keep up with my strides. “And she's still refusing to change into anything you bought her. Heck, I don't even think she's showered in the last two days.”

I don't miss the look that passes between a few of my men and I stop dead in my tracks and give them a warning look of my own.

I will not have them or anyone else make a mockery of Lou-Lou. Although her stubbor

“Marlene, I told you to look out for her well-being, not give me and the entire household a report on her hygiene. She's a grown woman.”

“But I—”

“Where is she now?”

“She,” a voice calls out, oozing with a

I narrow my eyes when I take in her tiny black shorts and white see-through top with the words, 'Show 'n Tail—A Gentlemen's Club' scrawled on it.

Christ almighty, I hate that uniform...not just because of what it represents—but because of how fucking good she looks in practically nothing. Almost as good as she does in nothing at all.

But none of that compares to what I hate most about her outfit at the present moment.

The fact that the men around me aren't blind to how good she looks nearly naked either—I can tell by the way half of them are looking down at the ground and the other half up at the ceiling. Pretty much anywhere but directly at her.

She's like an eclipse—gorgeous but extremely dangerous. Because I'll kill anyone who looks at her like they're picturing her naked.

And the infamous fuck you smile she's currently giving me tells me the little temptress is enjoying every second of how much she's pissing me the fuck off.

I grunt and make my way over to her. “Unless you're pla

“Tell me why you're holding me hostage and I'll consider it.”

I tip her chin up. “Nice try. You're not a hostage...a hostage wouldn't be allowed to do whatever they wanted.”

“Well in that case, I want to leave—”

“Under this roof.” I brush past her and gesture for my men to follow me. “I need to take care of business. And you need to take off that goddamn uniform like I told you to.”

I'm only a few short steps when I can sense something happening behind me.

“Well since you keep insisting, Mr. DeLuca,” Lou-Lou says, her tone taunting.

Then I feel it.

Marlene gasps and my men come to an abrupt stop when the fabric hits me smack dab in the back of my head.

I pause but don't turn around...because if I turn around—not only will my men turn around and see her naked—but I'll end up losing what little self-control I have left when it comes to her.

“Are you done?” I bark, clenching my fists, refusing to give in.

“Almost,” she says as her black bra goes sailing over my head.

And that's when I see it in my peripheral vision. Two men on either side of me are craning their necks, trying to get a better view.