Bound By Bellarmine
img img Bound By Bellarmine img Chapter 5 Phone Call
5
Chapter 6 Mother img
Chapter 7 Intruder img
Chapter 8 Unwanted Desire img
Chapter 9 Same Surname img
Chapter 10 Not Your Wife img
Chapter 11 Photos img
Chapter 12 Under Lock and Key img
Chapter 13 Visitor img
Chapter 14 A Younger Me img
Chapter 15 Villa Forteza img
Chapter 16 Dreams img
Chapter 17 Painting img
Chapter 18 'Family' Dinner img
Chapter 19 A Favour img
Chapter 20 Whispers img
Chapter 21 Gun img
Chapter 22 Beast img
Chapter 23 Blue Haven img
Chapter 24 Kept on a Leash img
Chapter 25 Ambush img
Chapter 26 Aftermath img
Chapter 27 Lockdown img
Chapter 28 Isolation img
Chapter 29 Too Close to Her img
Chapter 30 Old Friend img
Chapter 31 Can't Say No img
Chapter 32 Wedding Invitation img
Chapter 33 Master Dorian img
Chapter 34 Wedding img
Chapter 35 Bride and Groom img
Chapter 36 Celebration img
Chapter 37 Eighteen img
Chapter 38 Price to Pay img
Chapter 39 First Time img
Chapter 40 Live With It img
Chapter 41 Marry Someone Else img
Chapter 42 Relationships img
Chapter 43 Move In img
Chapter 44 Hot Spring Trip img
Chapter 45 Midnight Raid img
Chapter 46 The Velvet Rabbit img
Chapter 47 Lesbian Bar img
Chapter 48 Dorian's Property img
Chapter 49 Whore on Retainer img
Chapter 50 Ex-whore img
Chapter 51 Poison in His Blood img
Chapter 52 Letter, Undelivered img
Chapter 53 Don't Cross That Line img
Chapter 54 Boyfriend img
Chapter 55 Bring a Date to a Singles Bar img
Chapter 56 Creep img
Chapter 57 Mayhem img
Chapter 58 Livia's POV: Die for Him img
Chapter 59 Blood on His Hands img
Chapter 60 Livia's POV: Her Saviour, Her Killer img
Chapter 61 Livia's POV: Obsessed img
Chapter 62 Bastard Son's Homecoming img
Chapter 63 Dorian's Favourite Sibling img
Chapter 64 Slip Through Death's Fingers img
Chapter 65 Trapped img
Chapter 66 Night Out img
Chapter 67 The Quiet Plate img
Chapter 68 Let's Get Married img
Chapter 69 Drink or Dare img
Chapter 70 Drugged img
Chapter 71 Marionette img
Chapter 72 Banished img
Chapter 73 Sales Pitch img
Chapter 74 Five Weeks img
Chapter 75 A Good Wife img
Chapter 76 Internal Bleeding img
Chapter 77 Get on Top img
Chapter 78 Mutual Surprise img
Chapter 79 Aurelian's Son img
Chapter 80 No Conscience img
Chapter 81 Dorian's Plan img
Chapter 82 Dario img
Chapter 83 Happy Night img
Chapter 84 Kidnapping img
Chapter 85 Interrogation img
Chapter 86 Confrontation img
Chapter 87 Dead img
Chapter 88 Autopsy img
Chapter 89 Incommunicado img
Chapter 90 Birthday img
Chapter 91 The Truth img
Chapter 92 Broken img
Chapter 93 Shot img
Chapter 94 Ambushes img
Chapter 95 Gone img
Chapter 96 Last Stand img
Chapter 97 Negotiations img
Chapter 98 Caught in the Crossfire img
Chapter 99 Poison img
Chapter 100 Goodbye img
img
  /  2
img

Chapter 5 Phone Call

When I looked up, Dorian Bellarmine was already there, sitting on the stone bench opposite, holding a book open on his lap, not reading a word of it.

I hadn't noticed his footsteps.

My eyelashes were still wet. My legs had gone numb. I pushed myself up, ankles wobbling, trying to walk away before he could say anything.

'If all you know how to do is cry,' he said, 'you don't deserve to survive in this world.'

I stopped.

His voice didn't match his age. Neither did his eyes.

He was twelve, thin, pale, elbows bony under his sleeves, but he looked at me like he'd already buried half the planet.

I took a step back.

My heel caught the edge of the flowerbed.

I went down hard.

My knees slammed into the ground.

My palms hit first, but not flat.

The bricks tore across my left hand in a jagged line.

Blood welled fast.

I stayed there, staring at it.

He didn't move.

He just watched.

***

I couldn't sleep.

I turned on the lamp beside the bed and lay flat, staring at the ceiling.

I didn't know why the memory had clawed its way back.

It had been years.

That place, that girl, I wasn't her anymore. I hadn't been her in a long time.

I opened my hand. The scar ran along my left palm, faint but still there, like something pressed into the skin and never fully lifted.

The clock read 3:40.

I got up, slid my feet into slippers, and walked to the kitchen.

The floor was cold.

I flicked the light on, opened the fridge, pulled out the milk.

I poured it into a glass. Stopped.

Then reached for a second one and filled it halfway.

I put them both in the microwave and pressed start.

The hum filled the silence.

Next to the microwave, the oven door gleamed, spotless enough to reflect.

I saw myself in the black enamel, older, sharper, nothing like the girl who bled into the bricks and didn't even scream.

I felt tired.

Not from work. Grad school wasn't hard, not like this.

It was the remembering that drained me.

The microwave beeped.

I took the glasses out.

The low glow from the kitchen and my bedroom cast enough light to blur the edges of the living room furniture.

Shapes drifted in and out of shadow, soft and pale against the dark.

I placed one glass on the table in front of the sofa.

'I know you're awake. Drink some milk. It'll help.'

Livia Castellari sat up slowly, her blanket sliding to her lap. She took the glass with both hands and drank.

'Thank you,' she said quietly.

I downed mine in a few gulps.

When she finished, I reached for her empty glass, but she jerked upright.

'I can wash it,' she offered quickly.

'Give it here. I don't trust other people to clean my things.'

She handed it over without meeting my eyes.

She stayed on the sofa, knees drawn up.

The light caught her face. Tight mouth. Uneven breathing.

I remembered what that felt like.

Back then, I wouldn't have made it without Dorian.

Livia raised her voice. 'Elettra, your phone's ringing.'

I wiped my hands on a towel and walked back to the bedroom.

Only two people ever called me this late.

My adviser, or him.

I checked the screen.

My stomach dropped.

I locked the door behind me before answering.

I didn't speak.

My breathing wasn't loud, but it wasn't even.

He noticed.

'Spark. Are you coming home for New Year's?'

I closed my eyes. Counted to four.

'It's three fifty in the morning. Don't fucking call me at this hour again. That's one. Two, don't call me Spark. It makes my skin crawl. I hate it.'

He laughed. It slithered through the speaker, crawled up my back.

My hand tightened around the phone.

'You've got a lot of breath for someone who should be asleep. Cursing, too. We don't do that in this family.'

'I'm not part of your fucking family.'

His voice hardened. 'If the old man were still alive and heard that, you'd be tasting leather by now.'

My shoulder tensed. I could still feel it, those exact spots lighting up, sharp and hot, like they had years ago.

I didn't let it shake me.

'If he were still breathing, he wouldn't come for me first. Half the shit you've pulled would've got you shot in the face.'

'Not if I shot him first.'

I had no comeback for that.

'I'll send someone to collect you for New Year's. You're coming home.'

I gripped the edge of the desk. My skin felt tight. I kept my tone flat.

'My advisor just got back. I've got gaps in my thesis I can't sort without him. I'm not leaving.'

He laughed softly. He didn't believe a word of it.

'I'll find someone more qualified for you here. Better than your advisor.'

My throat clenched.

'I said I'm not going. Don't pretend you want me home for the holiday. You're planning something fucking vile.'

'Oh? And what exactly am I planning?'

He was angry. I heard it under the calm.

I backed off.

'I don't want to come. It'll take time out of my studies. I haven't been sleeping. I feel sick.'

He paused.

'Fine. Sleep, then.'

I ended the call and killed the power on my phone before his voice could crawl back through the speaker.

My thumb shook slightly as I pressed the button.

I should've switched it off hours ago.

I climbed back into bed and pulled the duvet up to my chin.

The cotton was clean and soft, the edges cool from the air.

I pressed my face into it, closed my eyes, and waited for sleep to come.

It didn't.

My temples throbbed. The muscles around my jaw ached. I tasted acid behind my teeth.

I could still hear his voice, low and flat, like it had slipped inside the room with me.

I considered the sleeping pills.

The box was in the drawer, ten steps away.

I didn't move.

I didn't want to depend on them, not the way she had.

Not the way it had ruined her.

                         

COPYRIGHT(©) 2022