Pursuing You - A Mafia Romance | 18+

11. The Farfalla

I don't regret what happened between Enzo and me. However, it makes me question my dignity. How could I have sex with the most feared man? How could I have sex with the man that kidnapped me? Am I insane?

To say that things are back to usual is a fat lie. I can't stop thinking about the way his body felt on mine, and I can't stop thinking about how he felt inside of me. I never felt full and satisfied - Enzo made me feel that and much more. And I miss it. Maybe I am insane after all.

I thought that by having sex with him, my curiosity would fade away. That once was enough, but it isn't. I want him more - I need him. I need to kiss him, to touch him, to feel him. If the mind forgets, the body remembers - my body remembers his warmth, his touch. He is engraved on my skin. And as I waited and hoped for my body to forget him, a month has flown by - A month of not seeing Enzo. A month of endless torture.

Without me knowing, he had become my temptation. A temptation that wasn't easy to let go of. But it wasn't supposed to be like that. We were just supposed to have sex - no strings attached.

I am insane.

After that encounter with Leonardo, I was sent home by Enzo. He didn't even bother saying bye - it was an order.

He didn't care, nor was he affected.

I had sex many times - out of love, out of lust. But never had I felt used. I felt used by him. Used and tossed away like tissue paper. The only good thing about this was the fat payment I received after getting home. For him, it was all business.

And so it was for me, too - I swallowed the lump in my throat, welcomed the money with open arms, and danced at Delusion with my heart. If he didn't care, nor did I.

"Are you sure everything is fine?" Jade has always been an expert at reading people. Of course, she knows something is off.

"Yeah. Why would you think otherwise?" I furrow my eyebrows, looking at her. And no, she isn't taking any of my bullshit. The expression on her face says it all. As much as I want to tell her everything, I know that now is probably not the best time. However, the more time I take, the higher the risk that she'll kill me upon finding out. It's a lose-lose situation for me.

She realizes I'm not opening my mouth anytime soon, so she sighs. Jade's shoulders slump, "Look, I've been noticing you a bit off for a few days. If something is bothering you, you can talk about it to me. And if you need time, take it, but remember, I'm always here," She takes my hand and gives it a light squeeze before getting up and heading for the stage.

I wish I could tell her everything. But I can't.

But how am I supposed to tell her I had sex with Enzo Vittori, and then he threw me out?

I roll my eyes and turn to the mirror, and the sight makes me recoil. That can't be me. Gosh, I can't even recognize myself in the mirror - I look like I haven't slept in days. I look tired. I look used.

But it's my fault for getting too involved in that shit, "Bellissima, my ass." I curse at his words.

Putting on extra makeup under my eyes, I put my heels on and walk towards the stage. And as I walk towards the stage, I realize something. This is who I am.

No Enzo and no other man in this world can make me feel the type of satisfaction I get when I dance in front of the crowd in Delusion. And that satisfaction is all I need - besides the quick money. No one can make me feel the power I feel when I dance on stage.

I dance as the music invades my mind, making me move my body to the rhythm. Being here in front of so many people screaming my name while I dance is all I need. It makes me high - it gives me wings, and it makes me fly. However, it's not enough to fill the void inside of me.

After dancing, making men blush, and taking 2 shots of vodka, I walk backstage and sit in front of the mirror to take my makeup off.

I hear Laura in the background talking to other dancers about how well they did tonight - she does that every time to push our egos. It makes me smile.

She then steadily walks behind me and places a little gift bag on my makeup desk. I furrow my eyebrows, "What's that?" I ask, not paying much attention and taking the fake lashes off.

"A gift from a fan," a smug smile plasters on her beautiful face, but it only makes me raise my eyebrows. "A gift. For me. From?" I question.

"As I said, a fan. It was handed to me by this handsome blond man." She waves it off casually. But something about that information doesn't sit right with me.

"Did he tell you his name?" The uneasiness starts to crawl on me like a thousand insects.

"No, but he had these beautiful green eyes. God, I've never seen such pretty eyes." It's the first time I see Laura fangirling. I should be amused, but I'm terrified. Blond hair and green eyes - not the best combination for a fan. It was a pleasure meeting you.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand as I recall that moment with him.

"What are you waiting for? Come on, open it!" She ushers me, taking me out of my thoughts. Laura impatiently waits for me to grab into that bag and take out whatever is inside it. And as her gaze intensifies, I do just that. I grab into the bag.

My hand clasps around something small and square. I take it out, and it's a little black box - one used for jewelry.

My heart is racing a mile as I glance at Laura, who only nods her head at me to open it. And I do.

A beautiful necklace with a butterfly as a pendant greets me.

But I don't know what to feel.

"Oh, my God! That is gorgeous!" Laura clasps her hands and squeals. She is excited, but I feel like fainting.

I look into the bag again and notice a letter there. At that, my heart skips a beat.

I feel forced to open the letter and read it. And I pray. I pray for my intuition to be wrong. I pray to be wrong about the secret fan.

I thought that by having you once, I would be pleased. I thought that by letting you go, I could forget you. But I couldn't. You come into my dreams every night. You invade my thoughts every day. My hands itch to touch your skin. My lips ache to kiss you.

Letting you go was a mistake - one that I realized too late.

You made me go crazy when I first laid my eyes on you, and no matter how much I try to get you out of my mind, it's impossible.

I sincerely apologize for my behavior.

I will make it up to you, my farfalla.

E. V.

This can't be happening.