My Neighbour's Wife
Widower and ex-boss to the Mafia, Zefiro Della Rocca, has an unhealthy fixation on the woman nextdoor.
It began as a coincidence, growing into mere curiosity, and soon, it became an itch he couldn't ignore, like a quick fix of crack for an addict.
He didn't know her name, but he knew every inch of her skin, how it flushed when she climaxed, her favourite novel and that every night she contemplated suicide.
He didn't want to care, despising his rapt fascination of the woman. She was in love with her abusive husband. She was married, bound by a contract to the Bratva's hitman. She was off-limits.
But when Zefiro wanted something, it was with an intensity that bordered madness. He obsessed, possessed, owned.
There'd be bloodshed if he touched her, but the sight of blood always did fascinate him.
****
Her husband was a monster, but he'd saved her from her past and a life of torture. She loved him like every captive grew to love their captor.
Everything went to hell, however, when she fought back and ran from home, stumbling into the arms of her devilishly handsome neighbour with a brooding glare.
He couldn't stand her, but she needed him, if she was ever going to escape her husband who now hellbent on killing her.
Better the devil you know than the angel you don't. She really should have remembered that before hopping into Zefiro's car and letting him whisk her all the way to Italy. If she had, maybe she wouldn't have started an affair with him.
He was the only man who touched her right, and the crazy man took no small pains in ensuring he would be the last.
10568 viewsOngoing