Chapter 178

I frown at Elio as he watches me drink, not understanding his change in expression. But it’s soon wiped away as he heaves a little sigh, studying me.

“So,” he says, casual. “You knew our little Cristian growing up, did you?”

“Yes,” I say, holding my mug tight in my hands, wondering where the trap in this conversation is.

“And what was he like?”

“He was…the best,” I say quietly, honest but not willing to get into a lot of detail. “He was really close with me, and also with my brother.”

“Oh, so you have a brother, then,” Elio says, his eyebrows going up. “And where is he?”

I hesitate, anxious again, taking another deep sip of the coffee, not wanting to give any details. “He works in the city,” I say quietly with another little shrug.

“And what does he do?”

Elio keeps pestering me with questions, each one coming after the another, almost rapid-fire. I start to frown a little as he almost quizzes me on my life, wondering what this is about, what he’s getting from this. Because as we start to get into the details of my grade school, and what my favorite subject was in second grade, I realize that we’re…not really getting to know each other. He’s just learning trivial facts.

“Why are you…asking me this stuff?” I ask quietly, turning my head to study him.

“What, I can’t want to get to know my new sister-in-law?” he asks, raising his own coffee to his lips and taking a slow sip.

I frown at him, newly suspicious. “You’re not asking me anything…real. Why do you really care if I liked art class as a kid?”

“Because, it gives me insight into you,” he murmurs, dropping his eyes to my chest. I blush when I see the unerring direction of his gaze – the fact that he’s not even bothering to pretend he’s not ogling me. “I knew you had…artistic pursuits – a dancer, yes? But a visual artist as well…” he raises his eyes to mine, a dirty little smirk on his lips. “You should let me take some pictures of you sometime. See…if we can lean into that artistic side a little more.”

Suddenly, it’s quite enough.

I finish my coffee as hastily as I can and take a step forward, intending to put my empty cup on the counter.

But as I do, a sudden wave of nausea hits me and I stumble for a moment, my footing uncertain.

“All right there, little Iris?” Elio asks, taking a concerned step towards me.

“Um, I’m fine,” I say quietly, taking the last few steps towards the kitchen island and placing my coffee cup there, blinking rapidly as I realize that my vision has gone just a little blurry.

“Are you sure?” he asks, taking another few steps forward. “You seem a little shaky to me.”

I blink for a second, staring at the cup, which slowly separates in my vision into two cups and then…fades back together into one.

What – what is happening here?

“What do you think, little stripper,” he purrs, stepping even closer to me now – too close. I whip my head up to look at him, but the action sends me stumbling back a step. Elio’s hand lashes out, wrapping behind my back, holding me steady. “Coffee more powerful than you thought it was?”

My mouth drops open as I realize that Elio is not surprised – not at all. That he intended this –

He – he put something in my coffee –

I step back intentionally now, frantic, trying to pull away. But he just laughs, low and lascivious, snatching me closer and pressing me tight against his body as his other hand begins to rove over me, starting at my lower back and then reaching down to grab my ass.

“That’s right, little slut,” he murmurs, groping me with abandon while he holds me tight. “This is how you should be anyway – not some jumped up little donna who caught my little brother in some kind of sexual haze – just a pretty face, here to do whatever I want her to do –“

I moan in fear and mortification, working hard to turn away from him, to get away –

But all that does is give him more room. As I bend back, hazy in my mind, not really understanding anything, he moves his free hand upward, grabbing my chest, squeezing me hard. I cry out, frightened and disgusted and frantic to get to the stairs – to get away –

“You’re mine now, you whore,” he snarls into my ear as he pulls me even tighter against his body, my knees going out beneath me. “In payment for what he took. Cristian took my brother and my father – and now I’m taking you – the only thing that matters to him –“

I work hard to cry out again, my vision going darker even as I panic – but the only sound that breaks from my throat is a strangled gargle –

I can feel it, though, when Elio’s tongue presses to my cheek, my neck – when he hastily hikes up my t-shirt, shoving his hand beneath, groping wildly –

I twist, frantic, trying to pull away – but there’s no strength left in me now. I start to collapse against Elio, into his arms.

Suddenly, a bark of noise makes Elio freeze – makes him whip his head away from my body as he snaps his head up, looking past me.

And then he drops me completely and I fall to the floor in a heap, hitting my head – hard. I groan in pain, my eyes fluttering shut, but there are shouts in the room. I can hear them, even if I don’t understand. I moan again, forcing my eyes to open, what’s left of my mind desperate to see what’s happening –

I can see them, barely – Christian advancing on Elio, shouting at him, something in his hand.

I turn my head slightly and can see Elio with his hands up, shouting as well, but stepping back – afraid.

Suddenly Christian lashes out and silver flashes in my vision. The’s a strangled cry and I panic because – is that me!?

But no – something wet falls on my face and I hear a gargling sound as my vision moves in and out. I see Christian standing over me, his chest heaving, and then suddenly – out of nowhere – something hits me again.

I scream, terrified, in pain – and my consciousness comes back to me at least a little as adrenaline pumps through me. I look down at myself, towards the weight that’s now pressing me to the floor, and I scream again when I see a body there –

A body –

Elio’s body –

His dead face turned towards me, his eyes open and staring.

His throat, cut open, blood sluggishly pumping out of it, spilling all over – all over me.

I shout again, my head dropping back as I shove at the body sprawled over my torso, or at least as I try. But even as I feel something against my hands, I have no strength.

“Iris!” Christian screams my name, falling to his knees next to me.

Somewhere, elsewhere, I hear feet pounding in the house.

But then my eyes slowly start to flutter shut, almost as if I’m falling asleep.

And then it’s all too much – my vision goes.

Fades completely to black.

And I’m gone.