We Were Villains

21

Trigger warning:
Mention of sexual assault.
Mention of self-harm.

"What the fuck happened?" Angelo roared, stopping to look between Luca and I. His dark eyes scoured me for injuries, for anything wrong. "I heard you screaming bambina, why were you screaming?"

"Did you touch her, Luca?" Julian hissed, jaw clenching. "Did you say something to her? I swear I will fucking -"

Luca backed away from me, hands up in surrender. "I didn't do anything." He slurred and I shuddered at the memories flooding my mind, struggling to control them.

Angelo grabbed Luca by the collar of his shirt, twisting him around to face him. "Are you fucking drunk?" He asked, calm and firm, but his eyes were blazing with barely controlled anger. "Answer me!"

Julian hauled Luca inside by the ear, making him whine and stumble all over the place.

"What happened, Alessia?" Angelo murmured, facing me.

"I - nothing."

My older brother tilted his head, pursing his lips. "I don't believe it was nothing, Bambina. You were screaming at him to stay away from you."

I shook my head and glanced between him and Abel, who stood with his arms at his side, a gentleness to him despite how dangerous he looked. "I am going to bed."

"Alessia," Angelo called but I was already in the house, walking towards my room. I slammed the door behind me, falling back against the door. A series of muted voices reached me from the other side. Their growing tension seeped through the wooden barrier, leaving me feeling trapped, the past attempting to break free from the prison I had built in my mind. I sank to the floor, my knees giving in, and wrapped my arms around myself. I wanted to scream, to let it all out, but all I could manage was a soft whimper, a silent cry for the peace I had once known.

In the distance, the sound of shattering glass punctured the night. The noise downstairs grew louder—Angelo's authoritative voice, Julian's enraged shouts, Luca's denials and pleas. The storm was unfolding, and it was all because of me.

My thoughts whisked me away to that fateful night a year ago. The darkness, the cold touch, and the haunting eyes that still visited me in my dreams. It wasn't Luca, but something about him tonight triggered that nightmarish memory, and I had  panicked. I couldn't face the shadows alone anymore.

There was a gentle knock on my door. It was soft, barely audible over the ruckus downstairs. "Alessia," a voice whispered from the other side. Christian. "Please open the door. Just for a minute."

I opened the door slightly, just enough for his ice-blue eyes to meet mine. There was an understanding in them, a silent promise. "You don't have to tell me anything," he murmured, "but if you ever want to, I'm here."

I nodded.

"I'm sorry but I have to ask, as your head of security, and because I genuinely care ... have you hurt yourself in anyway?" He asked, his tone soft. I shook my head.

"No, I haven't."

The relief on his face was evident. "Okay, that's good. Do you ... do you have any plans to?"

I slowly shook my head, pulling the door open further. Although the weight of solitude pressed heavily on my chest, drowning me in sadness, the last thing I desired was the company of another.

Christian leaned against the door frame, a soft hesitation washed over his face. "Would you like know how I came to be a part of Angelo's world?"

Curiosity bubbled inside me, offering a brief distraction from the chaos of the night. "Go on."