S E V E N
L I L L I A N A
I remembered the words of Confucius—‘Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves’. I wasn’t a philosophical person; neither had I fancied marinating my brain with such thoughts. But there was a slight itch I felt in my stomach as I had felt the day I landed in Chicago.
A feeling of doom.
Viktor’s rendezvous only intensified it. It wasn’t his visit that surprised me; I was expecting it sooner than later. It was his words that startled me. None of them were questions, but ultimatums carefully cloaked in civilized conversation.
Meanwhile, I didn’t come across Dominic ever since the night we shared the unexpected kiss. An inordinate length of time passed by, and if I wasn’t wrong, he had no clue of Viktor’s visit too. As per my beloved father, Dante’s informer said that Dominic left for New York for a week. When he didn’t come back, skepticism wrecked my nerves.
The thing was—Dante was out for blood, and he was stupid. In Viktor’s absence, it would be easier to take on Dominic, and the thought of it was stirring some discomfort within me.
“I would be the one to avenge my mother,” I convinced myself in response. I was supposed to receive the information when he comes back to Chicago; only Dominic decided to appear in person at the Cafe Steaming Mugs.
I came out of the kitchen, tying the ribbon of my apron at the back, and what I didn’t expect was Dominic Romano as my first customer of the day.
Conflictingly so, I was happy.
I felt something that I shouldn’t have felt—a relief. An irrational part of me was glad that Dante didn’t do anything stupid.
His blue eyes flickered over to mine without giving me a moment to recover when I was basking in solace. The lips twitched a little, threatening a smirk as I recollected the memory of our kiss.
For fuck’s sake Lilliana, you are not a sixteen year old!
Dominic deliberately picked my section—a small corner away from prying eyes of the other customers. He was leaning back against the chair, effortlessly refined in appearance while his piercing blue eyes held the true testament of his character—fatal. Frowning, I grabbed the notepad and strode over to him.
“What do you want now?”
“Coffee, I guess.”
“Why would a man of your status wants to have a coffee in a place like this?” I waved my hand around. “Isn’t it a little beneath you?”
“Oh, you’d be surprised how much I love the things beneath me.”
I had absolutely no doubt about it. Snorting, I rolled my eyes. “What can I get for you, Mr. Romano?”
“Mr. Romano?” His brows rose in surprise while incredulity laced his tone. “Don’t you get tired?”
“I do. I get tired of dealing with customers who love nothing but waste my time. So, are you going to order something or not?”
I handed him the Menu which he only took from my hands to shove it aside like he remembers every word it. “I have a cup of coffee, the blackest and the strongest one you have.”
Not that I had noticed very carefully nor care about it, he looked tired and jet-lagged. I nodded, without bothering to pen down. “One strong, black coffee for Mr. Romano, coming right up.”
I was about to whirl around to retreat when his hands—those same damn fingers—gripped my waist, halting me. “You still haven’t addressed me properly like you should have. I prefer the first name.”
My gaze went down where the fingers closed around the fleshy part of my hips, and then sternly met his. “Too bad. I don’t use the first name unless the person is a friend or acquaintance. In your case, you are neither.”
Dominic’s deadly smirk peeked out a little, and he leaned forward, murmuring a low voice. “I think you should get acquainted with my first name sooner. How weird will it sound if you keep on screaming Mr. Romano?
Seething, I hissed. “What gives you the impression that I want to scream your bloody name?”
He quickly took advantage of my anger to distract me as the hand which was previously gripping my hips, was now closed around my thigh under the skirt.
More than his action, my own response shocked me. I didn’t budge or shoved those hated hands away.
“What...what are doing?”
“You see this table, Lilliana?” He spoke calmly, so calmly. “It has the perfect elevation...for me to bend you over right here and make you scream my name.”
“Never,” I gritted through my teeth, wildly despising.
A deep chuckle rumbled out. “Is that a challenge?”
I would have given a sufficient retort if I had one.
The truth was—his tantalizing fingers slowly danced over the sensitive skin, and I was struggling to fight back a moan. Dominic took away my ability to resist his touch, in his brutish, sexual manner, but I refused to give him the ultimate satisfaction.
“Dammit! It’s a public place!”
“Why are you stating the obvious?” His fingers climbed higher, grazing the damp outline of my panties while his gaze flickered over to my left, pointing, as he told, “You see that old lady to your left? I wonder what would she think if you are going scream my name right here.”
I froze when he pushed the fabric aside, and his fingers directly came in touch with my sex. Dominic Romano was touching that no man has ever touched. All these years, I fed on the idea of revenge and blood, so much so, that living in shadowed existence became my identity. I couldn’t make friends or meet strangers for a night at risk of getting exposed.
His lips pulled into a victorious smile when he realized I was wet.
“There’s this girl, a little to your right, with her nose in the book,” he explained in a husky tone. “You are thoroughly going to ruin her concentration if you are going to moan louder, I am afraid.”
The A-line skirt I had worn that day, coupled with Dominic’s mastered hands and deft skills, nothing gave away to the people around me. Everyone was well-engrossed and utterly oblivious of my situation.
The sheer notion of shame and sin made a suppressed whimper slipped out, as Dominic tsked.
Was it possible to hate a man yet crave every bit of his touch?
Dominic’s finger inched closer, spreading warm heat as he played with my folds.
“Fuck, fuck!” I hissed.
“Yes, precisely that’s what I will do.”
Never. I shook my head in denial, unable to formulate a word.
“Lilliana,” he said softly, “You didn’t say no. Just like the previous night when I kissed you. You said so many words, so many curses, yet the simple word didn’t come out of your lips. I wonder, why?”
He was right; I had no self-control. But denial gripped me harder as I tried to convince myself that I was playing him. That, to play the game seduction was part of the grand revenge plan of mine.
The truth was, I couldn’t resist. Or, maybe, I didn’t resist.
The skilled digits plunged an inch deeper into my virgin passage, and I jerked forward little. “Dominic, I...”
“Ah! There you go. Now, how hard was it to spell out my name?”
I groaned and breathed hard, fighting the waves of pleasure. Dominic pulled out a little, and then thrust into me again with renewed force, demanding, “I asked you something, Lilliana. Is it polite not to answer?”
“You—Dammit!” I pressed my thighs together to stop his movements discreetly because my traitorous mouth refused that one word that mattered the most—No.
Why was I giving away my control when I should be the one taking it away from him?
“Alright, then.” His face suddenly turned grave as he abruptly pulled out of me, leaving me gaping and empty.
Dominic tugged my wrist a little, the same slick fingers which were inside me a moment ago, and pulled me closer him, as he whispered, “Did you think I’d make it so easy for you? You made me work so hard for my name. It’s only fair if you suffer a little. I don’t let bad girls cum so easily, sweetheart.”
At his words, the raw need began to recede, and my mind rebelled dangerously. But it was a little too late for that. Dominic was already savoring on his triumph with the twinkle dancing in his blue eyes, letting me stew in anger.
Belatedly, I found the strength to walk away with the lingering, sweet ache between my legs. Flushed and frenzied, it was impossible to argue with the sheer force of this man that he had managed to establish so effortlessly.
Later, at night, when I finished off the job with my trusty vibrator, I only came gushing with the fantasy of the man I loathed the most.
It was then that I had realized as to why lust and wrath were counted among the seven deadly sins of the mortals.
Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed reading the chapter. I am a little behind Dominic’s story as I have been working on Marco’s story non-stop. But I’d try to keep it updated every Monday.
Also, this story is a little complex with fluctuating emotions of the protagonists, and I don’t want to make it sound too quick.
So please share your thoughts on the story as well as the characters.