Chapter 47: Charlotte’s POV
After witnessing and enjoying the mayhem transpire with Matthew. I accompany Francisco to his home. A promise was a promise and no sense in celebrating alone. Leo hadn’t kicked me out of his home like his mother had advised but he hadn’t been home much either. He’s been too occupied with the same wretched peasant that I’m trying to rid him of.
After a bit of a drive, we arrive at this ginormous mansion with a gate and I watch carefully as he types the code onto the keypad out front. This house was easily double the size of Leo’s. It almost seemed like a ploy for me to think he was more enticing than my current love prospect and it would have worked if he wasn’t in the mafia. But then again, if he would’ve had nothing to offer me, I would have no interest in him whatsoever.
Francisco may have money but he was not a renowned, successful man who I could flaunt. He was a thuggish businessman whose rough and rugged sex appeal was enticing for short–term enjoyment only.
I live in a high society, where the elite are admired, judged and envied. There is no admiration or envy towards the mafia’s tasteless violence or drug involvement. And truthfully, Leo was better looking. He also was more generous as a lover whereas Francisco wanted to take, conquer and ravish.
“Ready, Mon Cher?” He asks as he parks with a devious smile.
“Of course.” I reply as he comes around to my door and holds his hand out to me.
I watch as Francisco opens the door and leads me through the foyer. I am taken aback by the homes‘ intricate beauty and modern design.
“Wow. Nice taste.” I say as I look around.
“It’s comfortable” he shrugs nonchalantly.
I admire the trimming and sculptures that embody each room and find myself almost impressed by his sense of style. He always dressed nice but this home was surprisingly immaculate. Every detail was carefully placed and it showed. Just as I went into the next room, I feel the door slam behind me. I had found the master bedroom.
I look back to find a very focused Francisco toying with a butterfly knife and smiling.
“Not this again.” I roll my eyes with a smile.
“But you loved it so much on the last night we shared together all those years ago.” He says with a raised eyebrow and he carefully pulls me close.
He was right. The night I had last seen him and spent the night with him was memorable. He had came to my home and after being invited inside, we quickly made our way to my bedroom – dropping every article of clothing on the way. His build glistening with sweat as he brought out that same knife. My breath caught in my throat when I had first seen it. My initial thought was that I had taken things too far and that he would kill me. My second, was that he was too in love with me to ever use it so I challenged him instead.
I walked up to him, naked and rose my face to his, placing my neck against that knife.
I remember asking him if he really thought he could do it. The moment of silence and the sinister smile that followed answered my question. He couldn’t. He had developed actual feelings. I ravished him that night when a knife to my neck and it thrilled me.
I turn attention back to the present rather than my memories. Francisco was waiting for me and I needed a release after all those years stuck in that damned wheelchair.
Just as he lays me back on the bed, I hear my phone ringing Francisco hands it to me as he moved further south, leaving bites on my bare skin and I catch my breath as I see who it is.
My father.
