VERTIGO

III

• Serephina •

Breathless and nauseated, I locked myself into my bedroom, pacing up and down the plush black carpet, trying to work out what the hell was going on inside Silas' mind.

I was so used to seeing my husband torture and kill men, I couldn't even feign shock or horror.

And it scared me.

Dios mío, You have sent down upon us the fùcking devil. You have unleashed a hell upon this Earth, I chanted quietly, passing the rosary beads through my shaking fingers, praying for Him to grant my husband peace of mind.

Oh, I know. Some nerve I had.

How can a woman who stands by God's enemy dare ask for His help?

I pressed the beads to my lips, squeezing my eyes shut, my mind unearthing a painful memory.

A memory I had repressed for months and months.

~

25th April 2013

"One more, one more, mi amor."

"Silas!" I laughed, pushing his face away from mine. "You know they will be back soon."

"Sí. But if you intended on walking in here dressed like that, you should have expected this, no?" A playful smirk graced his lips.

I gave him a look of mock disappointment, my eyes drowning within the intensity of his as they followed the shape of his straight nose, his scarred eyebrow, the mane of dark hair sitting messily on his head.

"Te amo, mi Rey," I whispered, tracing his stubbled cheek with my fingers.

I was indebted to Silas Valiéntè. I was indebted to this man for giving me a second chance to love for the first time in my life.

"Te amo, mi cereza." He smiled as I rolled my eyes.

"Why do you insist on calling me a fùcking cherry? You know I hate it."

"Because you look like a little cherry when you're pissed off. Well, I mean, you are far too small to be likened to anything bigger -"

"I am not too small to make you shit your pants, Silas," I smirked at him as he raised a brow.

"Oh? And how will you do that?"

I placed my hand on his chest, his heartbeat pounding against my fingertips.

"Because I own your heart. The one who owns another's heart is entirely capable of anything."

He watched me for a couple of seconds, an indecipherable look in his eyes.

"Sí. You are right. You own my heart. You win."

I laughed, standing on my toes as he leaned his head a little downwards, my lips meeting his.

"You know," he began, breathlessly, between kisses as he picked me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. "You may have my heart, but do you know what I own?'