5

He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking."

-Leo Tolstoy

~~

The coming four days passed quickly.

Sebastian and I settled into an easy routine. His shoulder was still healing but he rarely asked me for help with anything around the house, so my work was limited to cooking for the two of us and sometimes Warren and I suspected the only reason Sebastian was okay with me doing that was because he knew I enjoyed doing it.

He was quiet most of the time but strangely I never felt uncomfortable around him.

Sometimes he'd leave for hours without a word and come back looking like death but he never told me where he'd been or what he did.

I never asked.

The sound of the front door unlocking had my heart racing. I scowled. My heart had been doing that a lot recently.

"Ciao." Sebastian greeted as he stepped into the kitchen and my traitorous heart raced again.

I turned to look at him and frowned. He looked exhausted. His eyes were dull and his mouth was pulled down.

"Hey." I answered softly.

His eyes lingered on my face for a second before settling on the pot of red sauce I was currently stirring.

"What are you up to?" He asked, his eyes lit up a little which made me smile.

"I'm making Chicken parmigiana." I told him excitedly.

"Smells delicious." He walked up to me and looked over my shoulder. "What can I do to help?"

"You go and get fresh. I've got this." I told him gently.

There it was again. The subtle shock in his demeanor. He hid it quickly but I never missed it, it flashed every time I offered to do the smallest things for him. It made me sad because it made me think of how little kindness the world must've shown this man for him to be shocked by such simple gestures.

I watched his throat move as he swallowed. He stayed there for a moment like he was unsure if he should really go but his shoulders slumped, his exhaustion triumphing. He gave me a nod of gratitude before finally disappearing upstairs to his room.

I exhaled. I hadn't even realized I'd been holding my breath. Things with Sebastian were always . . . intense.

By the time Sebastian came back dinner was ready. He wore a casual navy blue V-neck sweater which was snug around his biceps with loose black running pants. His hair was damp indicating he had just showered.

He helped me set the table and we ate in comfortable silence which Sebastian broke every now and then to compliment my cooking, making me blush.

"Where did you learn to cook like this? If you don't mind me asking." He asked softly, his eyes filled with genuine interest.

I smiled. "My mother. She loved to cook, she taught me everything." I swallowed trying to swallow down the sadness I suddenly felt. "She gifted me her whole collection of cookbooks on my eighteenth birthday. She wanted me to go to culinary school and become a certified professional chef." I told him wistfully.

"And you didn't want to go to culinary school?" His voice laced with surprise.

My eyes met his. His eyebrows were drawn together, his whole concentration on me, like I was a puzzle he was trying to piece together.

" I did. It was my dream- to become a chef- to cook food people love." I told him truthfully.

"So why didn't you?" There was a gentle curiosity in his tone

I blinked, my eyes suddenly stung. "My mother got really sick shortly after I turned eighteen and she needed me. She pretended like she was okay but I knew she wasn't. She tried to get me to apply but I didn't. Even if I did it wouldn't have mattered we didn't have enough money to send me to culinary school. Most of our savings were spent on my mothers cancer medication and chemotherapy."

"I'm sorry about your mother." He whispered after a beat of silence

I nodded.

"What about you? What's your dream?" I asked, changing the subject.

His eyes strayed for me and focused on the wall behind me. "I was studying to become a doctor. I wanted to help people, I wanted to have a hand in easing their pain. But it seems like a whole life-time has passed since that time." He swallowed like the admission alone was painful.

"What happened?" I asked him, my heart aching.

"Unfortunate circumstances forced me to drop out and come here." He said blankly. "I stopped dreaming after that." The haunted look in his eyes made me shudder.

He whispered the words to himself but I heard them.

"Now all I have are nightmares."

~~

After we had finished with dinner Sebastian insisted on doing the dishes despite my arguing. I finally gave up and went to the living room. I sat down on the sofa and put my legs up comfortably. I closed my eyes and just as I was about to doze off I felt the sofa dip and something warm against my feet. My eyes shot open and I saw Sebastian sitting on the other end his thigh against my feet. I started to retract my legs but suddenly his hand clamped down on my feet stopping me.

"It's okay. Keep your legs up. I don't mind." His voice was hoarse. He didn't remove his hand from my foot right away. My breath hitched. My feet were pressed against his thigh and I could feel his body heat through the cloth of his pants.

He leaned his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes. Once again I noticed how completely drained he looked.

"Do you want to talk about your day?" I asked softly.

He didn't open his eyes or acknowledge my question but I knew he heard me by the way his jaw clenched as soon as I uttered those words.

I sighed. I wasn't surprised. It wasn't like he could tell me about what he did, he hardly even knew me.

I scooted closer to him. His whole body tensed at our close proximity.

"You know, the day we met you said something to me?" I spoke softly. His eyes opened slowly and he gazed at me expectantly. I gave him a soft smile. "You told me that you were trapped in a life in which you had to do things you regretted every day but on good days you got the chance to do things you didn't regret, things which made your conscience a little lighter."

"I remember, yes?" His voice was gravelly he still looked confused.

I sighed. "I know you can't share things with me but I see how much it's eating at you, not being able to talk to someone."

Sebastian sat up straighter and his gaze suddenly turned severe making me swallow but I continued. "So like I said, I understand that you can't tell me the things you do for obvious reasons and I respect that but how about this, instead of telling me anything why don't you just tell me if it was one of those good days or if you regret it?"

The silence that ensued was tense. For a while we just sat there, looking at each other. Neither daring to be the one to break eye contact.

Then he uttered a single word. "Regret."

As soon as he'd said it he turned away from me, like he was ashamed. Like he couldn't bear to look at me anymore.

And for the first time since I'd met him I saw this man for what he truly was,

Broken.

I moved even closer to him. He still wouldn't look at me. Something in my chest tightened. It was a foreign feeling.

"Hey, look at me." I whispered. My fingers trembled as I gently placed them on his jaw and turned his head in my direction.

His grey eyes finally met mine.

"Regret, it's an awful thing. It weighs you down, makes you hurt." My voice was soft. "But it's also a blessing." I gave him a sad smile my fingers stroked his face. I felt his sharp intake of breath.

"If you feel regret, it means you're a good person who's done wrong, it means there's still hope, but when you stop feeling regret, that's the worst thing that can happen to you, because that's when you can't go back."

~~

I lay awake in bed at night. Sleep just wouldn't come. My mind kept flitting back to the conversation I'd had with Sebastian.

My throat suddenly felt dry. With a sigh of frustration I kicked off the covers.

I silently walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water my mind still whirling with a hundred different thoughts.

And then I was pushed to the floor harshly. My cheek pressed against the wooden floor boards, my hands pinned behind me as a huge weight crushed me making it difficult for me to breathe.

"What are you doing here puttana?"

I stilled. My blood ran cold in fear.

That voice, sweet like velvet, innocent.

But I knew it was a lie, I knew that if I turned my head I'd be looking into two cold pitch black eyes which held only hate and sinister promise.

It was the same man who I had encountered the day Warren had brought me. The same man who'd ordered his men to abuse and kill me.

Lucian.

I screamed.

He fisted my hair and yanked my head back painfully. "I asked you a question, I expect an answer."

I tried to twist away, I tried to fight but he clearly had the advantage. My struggling only caused him to press more if his weight into me to the point where I thought he was going to crush my ribs.

A single thought entered my mind at that moment.

I'm going to die.

But suddenly the weight that had been suffocating me disappeared leaving me gasping for breath.

"What is the meaning of this Lucian?" Sebastian's familiar masculine voice demanded.

I shakily got to my feet. My eyes settled on the two men facing off before me. Both of them were approximately the same height. Both of them equally lethal.

"I should be asking you that question." Lucian drawled. "I come to visit you and I find this woman in your house? What is she doing here? I ordered her dead."

A shudder wracked through my body at his words. Sebastian's body tensed but he didn't turn to look at me. His voice was calm when he spoke.

"You are the one who is always telling me to have a good time, I figured it was time to take your advice." He shrugged nonchalantly.

Lucain's cold eyes focused on me. "You know normally I would have mocked you for taking someone so plain, when there are much more exotic options available." His lips twisted into a sly smirk. "But I see it now, the appeal. She fights back, her aggressiveness must certainly prove to be entertaining." His eyes went to Sebastian and I could see suspicion there, he was testing him. "I will trade you for her, whatever yo want. Money? A car? Another woman perhaps who I assure you would be better suited to your taste, cosa dire (What say)?"

For a split second there was silence. A sliver of dread slithered up my spine. My eyes flitted in Sebastian's direction taking in his rigid form.

"Terrò a mente la tua offerta. (I will keep your offer in mind)" Sebastian answered in a casual tone. "Per ora, dimmi perché sei qui ? (For now, tell me why you are here)"

His Italian was flawless.

Lucian's eyes narrowed a fraction and flitted to me before returning to Sebastian, I could still see it there, the suspicion. "Non posso visitarti se lo desidero? (Can I not visit you if I wish)"

"Puoi, ovviamente. (You can, ofcourse.)" Sebastian responded curtly. "But next time I would appreciate it if you informed me before coming."

Lucian smiled in a way which was almost charming, his beautiful face a mask of innocence. But his black eyes flashed. "Why, so you can hide your toys from me?"

When Sebastian didn't respond he let out a cold laugh, "dimmi, è solo un giocattolo per te, no?

(Tell me, she is just a toy to you, is she not?)"

Sebastian's chuckle was cold and dry. "Un giocattolo implicherebbe che mi preoccupo abbastanza di lei per tenerla in giro una volta che ho finito di giocare. (A toy would imply that I care enough about her to keep her around once I'm done playing.)"

Lucian's cold eyes gleamed. "Non ti dispiacerebbe fare trading una volta finito allora? (You wouldn't mind trading once you are finished then?)"

Sebastian's face was like stone, he had once again morphed into a man who I didn't recognize. His turbulent eyes focused on me for a beat and made me shudder. His eyes were cold, ruthless.

"Quando ho finito, temo che non rimarrà più nulla da scambiare."

(When I'm finished I'm afraid there won't be anything left to trade.)