All Chapters of Love and Lust (Hamartia Trilogy Book 2): Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

33 Chapters

Capitolo XI

Lucas ~*~ By six in the evening the following day, I was already up in the air, the plane halfway through its journey. I was still fuming with anger at how Mari had ruined everything with one statement release. Now, all I wanted was to see her and put her in her place. Thankfully, everything was settled back in Italy. The scandal of how I attacked that journalist has died off thanks to my lawyers and publicist. But that didn't stop me from telling Harriet that she needed to get extra security. I knew that she wouldn't do it which was why I told Jack to stay back in Italy and keep tabs on her. Discreetly. When the plane landed, the rental car was waiting. So I didn't waste any time to go see Mari and give her a taste of her own medicine.
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Capitolo XII

Lucas ~*~ Mari sobbed quietly on my shoulder. She hasn't stopped shaking and her grip hasn't loosen. We sat like this on the now-stained furry carpet of her room. Me cradling her trembling body as she weakly hangs on. And her state made me realize that she really needed to go see someone, and soon before she really lost her mind. "I'm sorry, Mari," I soothed, rubbing her shoulders and I did my best to calm her racing heart. Great fucking job, De Marchi. I lifted her up, knowing that her position was making her uncomfortable. I set her on the bed and she immediately curled into a ball, her eyes heavy and staring into nothing as tears rolled down her face. I sat beside her and watched her shaking figure, tucking a lock of her beh
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Capitolo XIII

I woke up like something was tearing my spirit apart from my body. I sat up from the now sweaty sheets, heart racing, perspiration dripping down my temples and back. Disoriented, I bring my hands to massage the growing pain in my eyes. "Are you okay?" I jumped from the sound of a hoarse voice in the corner of the room. I brought my hands down and I squinted at the direction of the voice. It was Lucas, in his white button down shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His ankle was on his knees, lazily still in his shoes while sipping a glass of Bourbon. I stared at him wondering what to say or if I should say anything. I saw the guilt in his eyes, dark circles under them. "I'm thinking," he said, drinking the last of his drink before setting the glass on the table. He pushed himself up and refilled the glass. "You should see someone about your PTSD." "The o
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Capitolo XIV

I woke up with a wicked headache. Sunlight graced the room from the open balcony widow. That's weird. I remembered clearly closing it before passing out. I ignored it, thankful for the air that let out the stench of spilled wine and sweat. I threw aside the duvet, sitting up from the edge of the bed and examining the white room. The wine bottle was still there but it was placed neatly on the table by the door, the used glass still on the complementary table and the gun still discarded on the floor. For a moment I stared at it, angry at why I was afraid of it. Then came the memories of Freddy. The pain that never seemed to end invaded my thoughts, the smell of blood and the words that Freddy was saying. I wondered what would've happened if Lucas had really shot me.Air blew the balcony curtain and the sunlight reflected o
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Capitolo XV

Lucas~*~By lunch, Mari left with Chase to see her father and I was left on my own, which was how I liked it. Daphne, the help, was kind enough to let me make the corner of the guest room into a make-shift study. She lent me a table from the storage room so I can finish some paperwork and set my laptop. Today I skipped the gym, decided to do it later tonight. I called Harriet to check how she was, and thankfully she was doing better. If only Mari decided to check with Harriet's therapist, then she wouldn't be so jumpy. And grumpy.I replay the stunt I did last night in my mind, wanting to shoot myself in the dick for allowing it get that far. I have never seen Mari that scared since in Mexico where she was fighting for her life. The way she trembled in my arms and the way she looked at me like I'm some kind of mons
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Capitolo XVI

I was ten years old when I realized that I needed to be a good actress in order for me to get what I want. I needed to cry real tears if I wanted my father to get me something that I wanted. I needed to pretend like I'm having a panic attack when I wanted to withdraw from school. The key to being a good actress is to always be a thousand steps ahead of everybody, and always be prepared in case anything would go the other way. That and always know how to fake the waterworks. Works like a charm.When my father was rushed to the hospital during my last night in Italy, I knew why. I knew what caused it. So when Lucas admitted that he, too, was slipping something in his drink, I got scared. He was tampering with my plans and if he was, and my father overcomes his coma, then he'll wake up knowing I did something. And I'll get more than a hole in my arm.Sitting acros
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Capitolo XVII

By dinner time, I emerged down the stairs wearing a white accordion skirt, a sleeveless top with a scoop neckline and a pair of neutral pumps. The top exposed the bullet scar my father gave me and a few healing ones from my lovely trip to Mexico. For whatever reason, I wasn't embarrassed to show the battle scars all over my forearms. In fact, tonight might just be the first time that I felt this confident since the incident.Lucas wasn't on the table when I arrived in the dining room, so I decided to wait for him while I'm sending out the invitations from Theresa. In a span of a few hours, Theresa and I had planned almost half of the event. She was good, I'll give her that. The florist will arrive tomorrow morning and the organizer will check the venue in the afternoon. It was just quick work, which was why I didn’t understand why others needed months to do it. Perhaps they don't have Theresa with th
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Capitolo XVIII

Gregorio Fabuccini had long gorgeous blonde hair that curls just below his shoulders. He had a looped-jabot scarf on his neck, a tight top and trousers that emphasized his fine behind. He looked like a mime I once saw in France. It scared the fuck out of me. He's the florist who Theresa hired for my wedding. He's French who speaks so little English we looked like aliens talking in the backyard garden.The day was perfect for my pink sundress with butterfly sleeves and a pair of nude slingbacks. Thankfully, the garden had a paved walkway that directed us to the fountain. Flowers bloomed everywhere and the grass was beautifully mowed. It seemed almost the perfect day to celebrate the wedding."I want white roses and lilies along the aisle with something navy," I said, fixing my
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Capitolo XIX

"I said gold utensils," I pressed when Emily pushed for me to go classic and stick with the silverware. I didn't want classic, I wanted gold knives, spoons, and forks, flutes with golden rims and a silk navy tablecloth. We were done with organizing the ceremony and when I told her I didn't want any rehearsal, she tried to convince me, in which at the end, I won. Now we were in the petty part of organizing. Colors, fabrics, arrangements. Blech! "And I don't care if the tablecloth is too dark, this is my wedding, Emily. So do as I say and list down that it should be gold." "Yes, ma'am," Emily finally nodded, crossing out something from her list and scribbles. "A-and sitting arrangements? Have you planned those or do you want me to—" "I don't give a fuck where the guests sit.
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Capitolo XX

"God, no," I said as Lucas showed me a picture of a man who had grown a red beard, perhaps trying to hide his double chin, from his iPad. He looked almost like a criminal with the burn on his left temple running down his cheek, and the piercing on his lower lip. His face is smug, with bored charcoal eyes and a crooked nose. Lucas and I have been lying on my bed, me in my white cotton robe and him still in his white shirt, sipping my third and his fourth whiskey. A stick of cigarette hung between his lips, the butt a glowing orange. Suddenly my room smelled like the back alley of a cheap bar but I didn't tell him to get rid of it because we were comfortable like this; like messed up people with only alcohol and cigarettes to entertain us. And I've missed the scent of nicotine in the air. In fact, I wanted to grab a stick from the pack but I decided against it. No good will come out of that."His name is Ben
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