His Corruption

Chapter 25

~Cristian POV~

Nothing about this city appealed to me. It only reminded me of my past...the fog, the running. It only cleared when I'd found myself causing the bloodshed I'd seen growing up.

What I did was justice in my eyes. Somehow, getting rid of the uppers eased the pain, distracted me from the cycle of jumping from country to country.

Somehow, it marred the memories of whips and chains.

My empty gun rattled against the counter as I set it down. Sitting at the kitchen island, I ran a hand through my hair in an attempt to break my thoughts, but it did shit all.

Whenever something lodged in my mind, I knew how to handle it but now I was going backwards. Back to recklessness, back to the impulses that pissed my Father off enough to chase me.

I ran then. I couldn't now.

Not from Elena Ricci, she had become my biggest impulse.

I should have been in Italy by now but I couldn't stand the thought of leaving without being sure her Papa wouldn't marry her off to some charming. I bet she'd like that, having someone just as innocent as her for a husband. Someone safe. Someone not deep enough into the mafia to be considered risky to deal with.

Damn her.

She never shied from telling me I wasn't her type. I wanted her to know she wasn't mine either, but whenever mention of Elena came to my ears I didn't speak rationally.

Screw this. I was wasting my time. I got up from the stool by the island and only took a step before something shiny caught my eye.

Just a look at the metallic 'e' hanging from the key holder made my fist ball up. This wasn't going away overnight was it?

I strolled over to the key holder by the front door and grabbed the 'e' tossing it into the trash. It was relieving for a second before I fished it out again. Not rational of me.

I was already by the door when the bell rang repeatedly, followed by quick knocks. When I opened the door and saw Mario, my expression went flat. "If you wanna play in an orchestra so bad, I'll put you in one."

Smiling and unfazed, he strolled past me towards the kitchen. "Nah. Remember that chick I dated for a week?"

Yeah, who could forget his ass stuck in a tuba.

As I closed the door of my penthouse, Mario dropped a takeout bag on the counter and headed to the couch. "Nice what you did to the place." He called out as his head spun. "Its lifeless just like you."

Said the man with no place. Holding back the retort, I turned to the kitchen. My penthouse was an open space, with a large kitchen by the main door and a living area by the wall of windows.

The interior was minimal and sleek. Other than a gray sofa set and a flat screen tv, there was nothing in this double storey penthouse.

After I poured myself a drink I headed to the living area and sat on the armchair waiting for Mario to talk. He only came over when he needed to discuss something or empty my fridge out.

"You look tired." He pointed out as he slid lower on the couch, tv remote in hand.

"I am."

"So come to Sicily with me."

I knew it was that. Mario stared at me for a response, but when he didn't get one, he exhaled and dropped his head. "Questo uomo. (This man.) You've stayed here too long, he's gonna know where you are."