Her Crime
[DAMON'S POV]
Seeing her broken state and the way she replied submissively was all I needed. I wanted to break her will to the tiniest bit. But then, as I looked into her face, those arresting green orbs frozen in place pricked my skin.
In a rare moment of softness, I sighed and helped her to her feet. Caressing her hair, I muttered.
"Now, Maya, all this wouldn't have happened if you had only kept what you saw to yourself, but now, I'll have to keep you here till all the controversy dies down."
She looked vulnerable yet suspicious of me, but she still managed to whisper, "When, maestro?"
I managed a faint smile in response to her comforted tone. My darker side desired to shatter her once more, yet any attempt to harm her would be a gradual process.
"Soon." I leaned my head close and kissed her on the lips very tenderly. She didn't expect the action from me, so she froze in shock, not returning it.
She was like a rock, stiff. It made me frown against her lips. I enjoyed the taste of her lips and wanted her to make an effort.
My hand moved to the back of her neck, and I ordered against her mouth, "restituirlo" return it_
She still stood frozen. I bit her lower lips, and she sobbed, closing her eyes in pain. But then, slowly, she kissed back.
I broke from the kiss and looked at her face. Her cheeks were reddened by embarrassment and confusion. She lowered her lids.
I grimaced. "Look at me!"
She slowly raised her blood-red eyes to mine.
"When I talk to you, look at me," she nodded. "I'll be going out. When I'm back, I don't want those clothes on you."
She looked confused. "I - I don't understand, maestro."
My brows furrowed. What did she mean by she didn't understand? I put my hands around her slim waist and pulled her; she fell on me, her palms reaching to hold her fall, crushing on my chest.
"I want you naked by the time I'm back—no clothes, just naked, from your head to your pretty toes." I kissed her forehead. "I'll see you later."
I left the room and was surprised to see Maria in the sitting room; she was supposed to be asleep, but it was already eleven.
"What are you doing awake?" I asked when I was close to her; she turned her brown eyes on me suspiciously
"You said she was a maid, so what is she doing in your room?"
I poured myself a glass of tequila before answering, "She's my servant, and I don't want you going close to her whatever you're doing."
"Why?"
"If you don't want to return to Derinem, you better do as I say." Derinem was my elder brother. He controlled half of the Mafia while I handled the other. He was also strict with Maria.
She pouted, "Fine."
Soon, a cloud of sadness covered her face. I knew why she was worried.
"Don't worry; I took care of everything."
She rubbed her shoulders, the silk gown she wore rumpling her; she was dressed for bed, judging from her blonde hair packed in a loose ponytail.
"Are you sure no other person saw the report? What if the journalist writes another?" She whispered
I didn't know why she didn't believe me when I told her I had taken care of everything. "The journalist won't show up," I remembered Maya.
Maria glanced at me, "What did you do to the journalist?"
I thought of a lie, "I paid her off."
"It's a woman?"
I held myself in check, so I didn't give more details. "What's important, Maria is that no one will discover what happened."
ONE YEAR EARLIER
It was a happy night, and the most prominent people were at a house party thrown by Alfredo. With so much pleading from my then seventeen-year-old sister, I took her as my escort.
She looked gorgeous in her straight blue gown, and her hair was done beautifully, with curls dropping down the side of her face.
We danced to the gentle music, my hand on her back and her waist, while she stared at me in excitement.
"I'm so glad you took me along, Damon. Derinem will never have let me come," she whispers.
"You've been good. Do not just go near the alcohol."
She smiled at me mischievously. "Ok, Damon"
I was tapped on the shoulder by Alfredo. He wanted to talk to me about business. We never talked business in front of Maria, so I left her, promising to come back for her. She didn't mind.
We went to the far end of the room, where I could still have my eyes on her. She held her two hands nervously, looking around, when a young man approached her.
He was the president's son in the place of his father, who couldn't make it. He asked Maria for a dance, and she accepted, looking thrilled.
I frowned, wanting to go over and separate them but not wanting to be perceived as a control freak. I focused more on what Alfredo was saying concerning a package that moved to the shore without my permission.
They exited the party hall together, their arms entwined. She was so joyful she couldn't stand still.
After about eight minutes and she wasn't still back, I excused myself and followed the route I saw them go through; surprisingly, It was empty.
I frowned. How could she have gone this far without my permission? She knew how dangerous it was to just wander the fuck off!
"We'll have a very long talk when we get home, Maria," I muttered.
That was when I heard the gunshots. Loud and resounding
It came from behind a room just further up.
I ran, forcing myself to a stop. I tried opening the door, but it didn't budge. Frustration seared. Frustration that became terror when I heard Maria's cries inside.
With my feet, I kicked open the door, and what I saw made my heart race.
The president's son was lying on his stomach, and Maria was under him on the bed; she was trying to get away from him, and her clothes were torn and bloody.
Tears welled down her eyes. "I didn't mean to shoot; he was coming on me..."
I placed my fingers on my lips, and she kept quiet. Quietly, I closed the door and walked to the bed, then rolled the president's son's body off Maria, and seeing that his fly was undone, hate and anger filled me.
If he weren't dead, I would have killed him in the most gruesome way possible.
But now that he was already dead, I just had to find a way to dispose of his body.
I wrapped a bedsheet around Maria, "Now listen to me, go to the limo and wait for me there. Do not let anyone see you. Now go"
Hurrying down, she opened the door and suddenly stopped in shock when she saw someone looking back at her.
With her brown hair, widened green eyes, and rigid body posture, it seemed like she was about to dash out of the room.
She looked at me, then at the dead body, and back at crying Maria. Knowing better, she said nothing and just walked away.
Who would have known she'd wait a year to spill information to the police?
Present
"I didn't mean to shoot him; he was so strong." Tears welled in Maria's eyes. I hugged her, kissing the top of her head
"Non hai fatto niente di male" __ You didn't do anything wrong__."
Seeing my sister in that state made heat rise to my chest. What other way to spill my anger than on the offenders?
Her bruised cheek wasn't enough. I wanted her life.