My shoulder burns as I pull the blood-stained hoodie over my head. I’ve just spent the last two hours watching as Luca and Izzy torture the fuck out of the asshole who rigged my car to explode before they finally handed him over to me and let me finish him off.
Luckily, Izzy and I came out of the explosion with only a few cuts and bruises. Izzy suffered from a concussion, and I ended up with a piece of metal in my shoulder, but other than that we escaped unscathed.
I’ve spent the last ten days splitting my time between watching Robyn to make sure she’s safe and spending time with Izzy. I felt guilty as fuck that she had gotten hurt while with me, and it took hours after she had woken up in the hospital for me to even let her out of my sight.
Luca has been even worse; he won’t let the poor woman out of his sight for longer than thirty minutes. I’m not sure if he’s realized he’s in love with her yet, or if he’s just fucking clueless.
After peeling my clothes from my body, I step into the shower and turn on the water, watching as the water runs pink as the blood washes away from my body.
As usual, my thoughts return to my 5’4 brown haired angel and wondering what it is that she got up to tonight. She only ever leaves her house on Friday nights when she either goes to her friend’s place or they go out somewhere for dinner or drinks, so at least I don’t need to worry about anything happening while I was preoccupied tonight.
She’ll have me watching over her tomorrow, since she has an annoying habit of walking home late at night. She’d never leave the house without me if she was mine, but what happened to Izzy last week has solidified my thoughts on claiming Robyn.
There’s no way in hell I can bring her into my life and risk something happening to her. I wouldn’t survive it. I’ll just have to settle for catching glimpses of her whenever I can, it’s become the favorite part of my days, seeing her from a distance.
Even if it is torture since I got to see her up close, I’ll take what little I can to keep her safe. She’s all that matters. She’ll always be the only thing that matters in my life from now on.
She’s my obsession, my lifeline and my damnation.
She’s my fucking angel.
My uccellina.
Once I’ve scrubbed every inch of my skin and made sure that every droplet of blood has been washed from my body, I turn off the water and step out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my waist as I go.
My cock is painfully hard from thinking about Robyn, but I refuse to jerk off to thoughts of my angel while showering off blood. My girl doesn’t need to be tainted like that. She shouldn’t be associated with my darkness at all, especially not after what I’ve done tonight.
Just the thought of associating Robyn with my life has my ears ringing and that all too familiar feeling of chaos bubbling up in my veins, begging me to wreak havoc upon the world.
Luckily, my phone pinging from the nightstand distracts me from my wandering thoughts and I sit on the edge of the bed before grabbing it.
I’d plugged it in to charge before taking a shower since the battery died while I was at the warehouse earlier.
Excitement shoots through me when I see I have a missed call and a voicemail from my realtor. I’ve been waiting three fucking days for the asshole to call me. I press play on the voicemail, setting it to play through the speaker before placing the phone back on the nightstand and leaning forward so my forearms rest on my knees.
“Good evening, Mr. Romano. I’m just calling to let you know that the owners of the property on Bryker Street have graciously decided to sell…”
Graciously, I snort.
Of course, they’ve decided to sell, that’s what happens when you threaten to dismember every member of their family if they don’t.
“The property in question will be available three days from now.”
Three days.
Three days and I’ll be living in an apartment that has a direct view of my angel’s bookstore and apartment.
My family will think I’ve fucking lost it, downsizing my apartment from a penthouse in one of the most sought-after buildings in Manhattan to a mid-floor two-bedroom apartment.
They wouldn’t be wrong, but I seem to enjoy being fucking insane when it comes to all things Robyn.
I’ll still be keeping my penthouse, though I’m not sure what the fuck for since I won’t be living in it. At least I’ll have it in case I need it in the future.
Yet I can’t see that happening, it’s not like I’ll ever let go of my obsession.
I stand and stare out of my new bedroom window, taking in the view I get of Robyn’s living room. I can just make out the silhouette of her sofa, and if I were to sit and watch on a night, I’m almost positive I’d be able to see her sitting there as she watches tv, reads her books, or whatever she spends her time doing while inside her home when I haven’t been able to watch her.
Luckily for me, that changes today.
The apartment was ready yesterday, but I had to furnish it before I could do anything. I had an interior designer on standby and spent an obscene amount of money to make the place livable within twenty-four hours.
I’ve spent the last few days consumed by Robyn. Usually, I’d spend time with Izzy at hers and Luca’s apartment a few blocks from here, but Luca has kidnapped my sister-in-law and taken her on a well overdue honeymoon to my family’s island just off the coast of Italy.
I’ve never been to the island in question. My dad bought it for my mom before I was born, but since she died while giving birth to me, he couldn’t bring himself to go back.
This is the first time anyone in our family is visiting in twenty-two years.
Sometimes I wonder if I am the way I am because of the knowledge that I killed my own mother just by being born.
Don’t get me wrong, my family has never once blamed me for the death of our mom, but sometimes I wonder if they would have been better off if I was never born. At least they wouldn’t have to deal with my unstable self and would still have her.
I’m happy for Luca, he really has met his perfect match with Izzy. I just wish that Marco would find someone, or at least find the one who got away. I’m the only one who knows about the girl he was seeing back then. I have no fucking idea what happened between the two of them, I just know that he’s never been the same since.
I was only twelve at the time, but I remember the way he looked at her the one time I saw them both together. He looked at her the same way Luca looks at Izzy. The same way I probably look when my angel is in front of me.
I leave the bedroom and look at the space around me. The apartment is only small, consisting of an open plan kitchen with a dining room attached that houses a table, probably only big enough to fit four people comfortably even though there are six chairs surrounding it.
Opposite the dining room is the living room which is rather big considering the rest of the apartment. There’s a tv mounted on the wall above the fireplace and two armchairs that match the sofa, all of which are an emerald green color that remind me of Robyn’s eyes.
Did I give my interior designer a picture of my girl and tell her to find the furniture that was closest in color to the color of her eyes?
Of course, I did.
Did she stare at me like I was batshit crazy?
Of course, she did.
Do I give a fuck?
Abso-fucking-lutely not.
There’s also a spare bedroom, which has the same identical bed, nightstands and dresser that I have in my bedroom. I didn’t tell the woman to furnish that room since it’s not like I’ll be having friends over for fucking sleepovers, but she took it upon herself to do it anyways.
Whatever. I don’t give a fuck about the money it cost, so it doesn’t make a difference to me.
I’m just happy I get to be closer to my girl.
I think my family would be right. I’ve officially gone down the rabbit hole of insanity, and I don’t ever plan to come back up to reality.
Sometimes I wake up and think that this was all just a really fucking weird dream and that Robyn doesn’t really exist. Like she was just an object of my imagination, which is exactly why I bought this apartment.
At least now when I wake up, I’ll know that this is real life, I won’t be in my penthouse wondering if she really exists across the city. I’ll wake up knowing that I can look out my bedroom window and see that she’s real. I’ll see her apartment; I’ll see the building of her business.
I’ll feel the chaos lessen from just knowing that she’s there, that she’s safe and protected. Knowing that I’ll only be across the street and can keep a closer eye on her in case she ever needs my help.
My only issue now is, I need to somehow tell her that without alerting her to my stalker habits since I’m pretty sure she’s aware of my presence when she walks home at night. The last thing I ever want to do is scare her.
