8. MATTEO

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Romeo finally manages to get dad out of my bedroom.

He hands me a bottle of water, looking around my room is disgust. "You are not sick, brother. Tidy up."

"Shut up, Romeo."

He stands with his concerned lok. "I'm afraid if it gets worse, I will tell dad."

"No you will not. I have it handled."

"What even made you drink again? You were doing so well.

I don't even know. It's so tempting all of the time. When I'm pain, which I was after that cop had beat me, I wasn't taking pain meds and instead, I drank.

It numbed the pain better than anything else could have.

"I'm allowed to have bad days."

"You have too many bad days, Matteo. You are an addict and you need help." He pulls the blanket off me. "Go and shower."

I groan, getting up out of bed. I guess one perk about having an older brother who's a sociopath is that he doesn't sugarcoat anything. He's blunt and honest and I need people like that around me.

I shower. It felt nice to just relax as the hot water hit my body. I spend far too long in here, when I'm out, Romeo had cleaned my bedroom.

"Thanks, brother."

"The girl is here."

"Which girl?"

"The pig. I don't know her name. Latina girl."

"Her name is Xena."

He nods his head, "she has come bearing gifts, for you."

"Where is she?"

"Living room."

I walk out in just my towel, her eyes drop to my body immediately and she smiles softly, pushing the bag to me.

"What's in there?"

"Wine."

Romeo walks out of my bedroom quickly and lifts it up. I think Xena knew better to just let him do that instead of interfere.

"Goodbye." He says to me, then walks out with the bottle of wine.

"He a wine drinker or something?" She chuckles.

"Something like that. I'll be out in a minute, don't want your eyes burning into my abs."

She opens her mouth to say something but I walk away before she gets the chance. I change into my gym clothes, shorts and a compression shirt, and walk out.

That didn't stop her eyes form averting all around my body.

"God, if you want me to fuck you, Xena, just ask. Your eyes shouldn't need to do the talking for you." I smirk, sitting opposite her.

She now looked repulsed. "God, you Italians." She rolls her eyes. "We need to talk."

"Assumed you were here to sleep with me." I kick my feet up on the coffee table. "Talk, pretty."

"The girl... the one that came in, Trixie, there's something off about her."

"Off?"

"Yeah. You're right. She is extremely clean, she thinks that you're her master..."

"Oh." I swallow thickly. "Why me?"

"My mom is assuming you look like her abuser."

"And..."

"And we need to assess her in order to help her get better but she refuses to talk unless her master is present." She smiles softly. "Just come down."

"If she touches my dick again, I'll break her wrist."

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