“No, I look bad.”

“I don’t care how you look. Come on, show me that face.”

She slowly peels herself from my neck and stares at me with her puffed gray eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks and her lips parted.

I hold her by the back of her neck and seal my lips to hers as I slam inside her.

Warmth. Belonging.

That’s what my little Petal is, was, and always will be.

She moans against my mouth, her nails digging into my back as she kisses me back with a passion that leaves me mindless with want for her.

My hips jerk forward, marking her, wanting her to feel me as much as I feel her.

“Oh, Jas…” she moans, her hips working with mine. “More.”

“More?” I smirk as I wrap my hand around her throat, squeezing.

“Mmmm,” she gasps, her mouth falling in an O as she grips my hand, nails digging into my skin.

“You want to be fucked by me, Pet?”

She nods.

“Choked by me?”

“Yes,” she manages to get out.

“Owned by me?”

Her head bobs up and down frantically.

I squeeze harder as I ram inside her with the urgency of a madman. I fuck her fast and out of control until she screams through her orgasm.

I don’t stop.

I loosen my grip around her neck and slow my pace until those tears rim her eyes again.

My little Petal always gets emotional whenever I fuck her slowly, taking my time with her body, and worshipping every inch of her.

She clutches me harder too as if afraid she’ll fall if I let her go.

If it were up to me, I’d never let her go. I’ll never let her leave my sights again.

She kisses me then, her lips brushing against mine before I open up and claim her.

“Jas...oh, Jas…” she moans my name over and over again.

I’m a goner.

My pace picks up, hitting her deep and hard in this position. She whimpers as I tease her clit with every thrust. Soon enough, she’s falling all over me again and again.

I bite her lower lip as I spill inside her, coating her with my cum — no, my seed.

We’re panting after as I continue holding her against me. I remove my hand from her neck and she sighs in delight as her head rests against my shoulder in a way where she looks up at me.

For a moment, she appears delighted, satisfied, and I stroke her cheek, then her collar.

Tears rim her eyes, and I can tell it’s not because she was fucked so good. I made her forget for a while, but it’s coming back to her.

She pulls away from me, grabbing a sheet on the way and wrapping it around her torso.

“Petal…” I reach out for her, but she wiggles free, not facing me.

All I see is her back and the sheet that’s covering her nakedness. “My father is gone.”

“I know that,” I say slowly.

“More like you planned it. You got what you wanted, Jas. Papa is dead.”

“Petal…”

“Am I wrong? Isn’t that what you wanted?” Her voice breaks. “After I finally found my father, I lost him again as if he were never there. None of this would’ve happened if you weren’t there.”

She goes silent as if realizing what she said.

As if it gutted her as hard as it gutted me.

She’s right. Even if I weren’t the one who personally ended Paolo’s life, I would’ve done it, and a part of me is glad he’s dead. A part of me feels triumphant that I got revenge for my family, for mom’s vacant eyes and the blood that marred her chest.

I reach for Petal, and this time she doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t face me either.

All the better.

I don’t think I can stare at her gray eyes and do this.

Finding the collar’s combination, I put it in and then it clicks open. A small sound leaves my little Petal’s mouth as the collar disconnects from her pale neck.

“You’re free, Pet,” I whisper against her neck.

And then, I’m gone.

 

 

24

 

 

Georgina

 

 

It’s scary how life can go on.

One moment, Dad is dead and the next, I’m the only Costa alive and I have to take care of the business.

One moment, I was alone in the world, then Jasper found me, and I found my dad, only for it to all disappear.

It’s been a few weeks since that bloody night, but I still can’t get it out of my head. I still have nightmares about it.

I’ve been forced out of grief too soon, though. Because people are after my family’s business, and I promised Dad I’d continue his legacy.

Enzo has stayed with me, and since he’s been working with my family since the beginning, it’s been going well for the most part.

I had a talk with him soon after the funeral and asked him if he wanted to talk business or grudges. If it was business, he would get a partner in me. If it was a grudge, then Dad and Lucio’s deaths should pay for any wrongful deeds they carried against his and Jasper’s family. Enzo shook my hand and said he’d help me if I gave him a few shares.

He has such a manipulative streak. It’s like he can’t get anything done unless he has some sort of benefit from it.

I reconnected with Dinah and Katya and offered them positions in Costa’s private clinics. They’ve been there for me when I told them some of what happened since I disappeared. They hugged me and consoled me.

I didn’t tell them about the pain I felt every night when I went to sleep. During the day, I act as the new Costa leader, putting rebels in place and trying to keep the power Dad entrusted to me, but at night, all the pain returns.

At night, I touch my neck and when I don’t find the collar, I cry in my pillow.

You’re free.

His words still echo like doom in my head. He didn’t only tell me I’m free but he also left. For Good.

Every day, I watch my surroundings, trying to see him or conjure him in people.

Every day, I resist the urge to ask Enzo about him. Is he eating well? Living well? Does he think about me as much as I think about him?

There’s so much pain between Jasper and me. So many grudges. So much family history and murders.

The loss of my father is still like a black hole inside me. I want to believe that time will heal it and that maybe I’ll wake up one day and forget, but I know that’s not the case.

However, all those feelings disappear when I dream of him, of his hands, of his damn touch.

His absence is an entirely different pain altogether. His absence makes me feel as if I’m Joseph again, all alone and with no one to help me.

Yes, I have the power, the money, the family name, but does it matter if he’s not here?

Before he left, Jasper sent me a gift. Phoebe — the stray black cat I used to feed on my way to the hospital. She’s grown now. The man who delivered her said he’s from a special animal shelter and they’ve been taking care of her for months.

Jasper made me the crazy cat lady he always said I am. Mrs. Hudson accepted her immediately, but Mr. Bingly is still wary of her.

“Do you go back to Sicily?” I ask Enzo after our legal teams leave the conference room.

He leans over in his chair and interlaces his hands on the table. “Why? You want something from there?”