Chapter Twelve

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Sofia

Hands. They were a set of hands. In a white box with a pink bow. Like it was some kind of fucking present.

Someone's shitty and sick idea of a present, that's for sure. My own hands shook as I stared down at the blood that tainted the inside of the box.

My eyes were wide in panic and fear as I stared down at the chopped body parts that he had stuffed inside of my locker.

Was he trying to scare me? Threaten me? Warn me?

I couldn't even scream or shout or call the police because I knew who sent them. I didn't know why he sent them, but I knew who did.

I couldn't even focus on dancing or working because my mind kept wandering to the bloody, gruesome cut-up hands that were sent to me.

Every time I thought of them, bile rose up in my throat and I had to take a break to calm my breathing and heart.

It was something straight out of some horror stalker movie, where the guy scares the girl into being with her or something.

I don't know. I hated horror movies, and yet I felt like I was living in one. This man was a fucking lunatic.

I hadn't seen him in over a month, and yet the first thing he does to let me know he's still out there is send me a box of hands. I had a bad feeling I know whose hands they were. I knew they were Anthony's.

I didn't think his threat to kill any man that touches me was real. I thought he meant any man that assaults me. no way he would cut off Anthony's hands because he touched me. It was consensual.

I asked him out. I took him back to my place. I initiated it all.

I was the one that had sex with him, yet Anthony was the one that paid the price for it. I swallowed a sob and the uneasiness I felt inside of me had me too shaky to stand up on my own two feet. I can't believe he killed Anthony.

What did I get myself into with Matteo? Who was he to kill Anthony? Who was he to waltz in and out of my life, threatening every man that dares be with me and just being an overall fucking psycho?

He had no right. I didn't know where he lived so I couldn't just show up at his house and tell him to fuck off, nor did he stop by the club anymore.

I had no way of dealing with him. I had no way of contacting him. I deleted his number off my phone from the first time he called me, so I never was tempted to call him again.

I needed to find a way to get him here so that I could smack him, preferably with the hands he sent me.

I was half still in shock, half terrified, and a whole lot of fucking pissed. I don't even know how I finished working and how I didn't faint or fall throughout it all.

I was so nauseous and tense that I honestly thought something would happen to me during one of my sets. I pulled out my black bag from my locker, my eyes lingering on the white box, before slamming my locker shut.

"Did you like my present, Sofia?" I turned around.

I must have conjured the Devil himself because there Matteo stood, all wrapped up in black like the soulless person he was.

"I loved it. I'm thinking of taking it home, actually." I smiled widely up at him.

He grinned menacingly, "Let me know if you want other parts of him."

"I'd love his dick if you're offering. Would you mind sending it to me? I need something big to get me off and my dildo is nothing compared to him."

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