Fifty Shades Of Black

Ch 2

About a month ago Lexi Rizzo approached me with a surprising tale and an even more surprising offer. Since then she and I have been working together. I've been teaching her my ways, and she's been spying on her brother and the Petrov operations. Over the past few weeks we've laid out a plan. A plan Lexi mostly came up with herself quite impressively.

Today she and I were in my office at the Velvet Lounge. It's where we meet most times for the space's privacy and discretion. Nobody can know Lexi and I plan to take out the Russians. Not even my number 2 Alessandro or number 3 Elio. Not with this. Not yet. Everybody has their part to play in this. When the time comes.

"How was that therapy session? Wasn't that yesterday?" Lexi arched an amused brow at me from across the desk I sat behind. I was sorting through some paperwork before her and I got started. I grunted as my first response. "f*****g horrendous" was the second. Lexi laughed. The asshole laughed at me.

"I knew therapy wasn't gonna be your thing. It works for Mia, but I don't see it working for you" she told me like she's known me for a hundred years.

I respect Lexi for a number of reasons. When the Irish were attacking us and the girls were sent to the safehouse Lexi protected Mia just like I asked. And without my even asking, Lexi taught Mia self defense so she'd never be in such a vulnerable position again. I respect how straightforward she is with me. She's not a bullshitter. She's tough, yet compassionate. She never judges people. And Mia seems to love her so she's alright in my book.

I wouldn't call us friends. I'm not a man with many friends, but she's alright.

"Are you calling me a lost cause?" I arched a brow at her. I should be offended. Lexi waved me off. "No. Not like that. I'm saying you as a person, that's not your style. You're the most guarded human being I've ever met. I don't see you lying down on a lounge chair telling the doc all about you murdering people and having anger issues" she deadpanned. I rolled my eyes at her.

She was slouched in the way she sat in the seat across from me. I was still working so she was just looking around the room relaxed and waiting. Not a care in the world. Or so you'd think. But what's really raging inside the cool exterior of this little woman is hatred and planning, and the deep seeded need for retribution on her mother's behalf.

When she first told me about how angry she was and all the horrible things she wanted to do to her family, her father in particular, I told her I wouldn't follow her into a suicide mission. I told her she'd have to do the hardest possible thing she'd ever have to do. I told her she had to wait. To do things in a way that couldn't unravel or be undone or come back from.

Since then she's been simmering, but it's always there, that fire. I should know. I've carried that fire before. But mostly, I carry a void inside me. This black hole where every unpleasant thing goes. Where my normal human emotions got lost. Where my humanity fell away.

That's why I can do the things I do. And that's exactly what Lexi wants me to teach her to do. No matter how much she hates her father, it's still her father she wants to ruin then kill. It takes a lot to do something like that. It isn't easy. To look a man in the eyes before you take away his life. It sticks to you. It'll cling onto you if you let it.

I've said it before, when I was a boy my father wanted to turn me into a man. When I became a man they wanted to train me to be a soldier. When I became a special forces soldier they wanted me to become a boss. A mobster. A symbol of the De Luca empire to bring fear to our enemies. Everybody wants me hard. Everybody wants me tough. Everybody wants a f*****g piece of me.

Now I have a girlfriend. Someone I truly love. The void I had inside me doesn't work for me anymore, or at the very least it's flawed, because I had to pull other emotions out of me to be fair to Mia in the way I know she deserved. To commit myself to a relationship, I couldn't lose my humanity completely or succumb to the void wholly.

And I know Mia is right when she says she's moving forward by healing her past and changing bad habits, and that I need to do the same to be an equal in this relationship she wants to build a better foundation on. But Lexi is also right when she says therapy won't be my way to do it. Not traditional therapy, anyway.

"Well, I'm glad you see that because Mia and her shrink don't seem to view it quite that way" I told the blonde who was still eyeing me with the amusement I wanted to smack her upside the head for. "Well, as they say, 'admitting you have a problem is the first step to fixing the problem'. You have a lot of dark s**t in your life, Dom. You can't keep all that s**t inside you or punch it out of you or f**k it out of you" she got it just right.

"To be Domani De Luca successfully, I've had to sacrifice parts of me that were too human to handle the life expected of me. That's what you wanna learn. Right, Lex?" I called her out on the hypocriticism here. Her expression turned flat.

With her thin frame and long legs she pulled them up until her feet were on the chair and she was hugging her knees. "Okay, I see your point. Let's switch then. You teach me the void and I'll be the sound board you need to vent to with no judgment or pressure. Just you talking about the dark s**t and removing it from your overcrowded body" she dropped a chin on her bended knee.

"So therapy" I gave her a hard time.

"Do I look like a shrink to you? Not the same thing and you know it" she didn't let me off the hook. "Why don't we focus on your evil plans instead of my personal s**t" I turned the offer down. I don't talk about things. I cringe even thinking about 'opening up'. For f*****g what? I'm not some little b***h.

"So you wanna lose Mia then" she nodded like she understood something. I grit my teeth. "No. I don't." She knows damn well that I don't. "Well that's what's gonna happen if you don't fix your s**t. When she's healthy minded she won't put up with the toxic bullshit" she didn't put it lightly. I said that's one of the reasons I respected her but maybe I changed my mind.

"Have you ever admitted out loud things like...the first person you killed. Or the worst day of your life. Or how it feels to be this dark power figure that most people hate?" She continued before I could get a word in edgewise. I slammed my fist down on the desk to cut that s**t short. "Aggression, no patience, denial and defensiveness" she didn't have to explain why she was listing those things.

"Just f*****g drop it. Christ" I huffed. I hate this kind of stuff. Truly, I do. Talking is a waste of energy. I talk when I have something worth saying. And reviewing the past isn't worth the energy or my time.

"How did you feel when you killed Mia's father?" She surprised me by asking. I didn't know how much Mia told Lexi about her past, or our shared secrets where murder is involved, but clearly Lexi knows. I shook my head at her. She's relentless. If I don't give at least a half ass answer she's not gonna drop this. And all I wanna do is drop it.

"I felt good. You think I should admit that in therapy?" I made a smart remark, very clearly sarcastic. Lexi sat up in the chair, dropping her legs. "Why did it feel good? What did you do? Mia doesn't seem to know the details. She said he had an 'accident' and that's all she wanted to know." When she said he 'had an accident' something flashed across her own face, and I knew it was because that's what Lexi thought for years about her own mother. That she had an 'accident'.

"I force fed him liquor and made him drive into a deep ditch to die. And I felt good about it. I don't regret it. I hold no remorse. Sound healthy?"

How could this possibly solve anything? This won't make me a better man for Mia. It'll only just be a reminder to myself of how evil I actually am and how bad I am for someone like Mia. I hate acknowledging that hard truth.

"But Why did it feel good? Why don't you hold any remorse?" Lexi shoved at her blonde hair to get it out of her face. She was talking faster and edging closer to the desk which made me feel rushed for whatever reason. "Because" I blurted out. "Because why?" she slammed a much smaller fist on the desk. It was like she pressed a button to accelerate.

"Because he was a piece of s**t! He was a narcissistic prick who belittled and beat his wife and children. Who ruined Mia mentally. And Elio too. He was walking-garbage. Good for nothing. Why would I regret killing the man who beat my girl to a bloody pulp?! I wanted to torture him until he was nothing but a pile of s**t and bones. I couldn't afford the murder investigation or else I truly would have" I hissed out.

"And you love Mia. You were protecting her" she stated the f*****g obvious. "So, you realize you were literally trained to associate protection with the act of violence, right?" Her smart ass tried schooling me. I paused for a second though. Just to mull it over.

"Your Dad wanted you to be a leader, so he showed you all the hard things you'd have to do to be a successful mob boss. Murdering, showing no mercy, and doing everything by force to instill fear in your enemies. And as a soldier...you were taught to 'defend' your country by the act of war, which is violent "So when you're angry you become aggressive and punch things or people. When you're concerned for someone you care about you feel defensive, which triggers the soldier in you, which triggers violence. You picking up what I'm throwing down, big guy?"

I wanted to strangle her. If she knew that exact thought she'd point out it's a violent one. Damn her.

"So, let's get back to the plan of Murdering your father" I didn't play along with her shrinking attempt. "Hey, I'll admit my daddy issues" she shrugged and leaned her forearms on the edge of my desk, opposite me. I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. I was feeling attacked and she's right I do get angry when feeling threatened or attacked.

But damn her, because I actually chuckled when she admitted to having 'daddy issues'. Her father being the sociopathic Bratva prick he is, my own father not being much better than that.

-

Mia's head rested on my lap while I watched highlights of the games I never get to f*****g watch cus I'm always so goddamn busy with something. She was scrolling on her phone, but then her pretty eyes drifted towards the black slate glass fireplace and around the rest of the living room.

"Who helped you decorate? Have I asked this before?" She motioned to sit up, but I ran my fingers through her hair which stilled her. She likes that. And I like her peering up at me from her pretty head on my lap.

"It was professionally done" I waved it off. Then I thought of something. "Why?" I asked first. She shrugged the question off as nothing. There was something I wanted to ask, but it wasn't what ended up coming out instead. "Would you ever want to redecorate?" It was my coward's way of saying something. She clearly didn't catch on because her response was, "Not necessarily. I always liked how masculine the space is. It reflects you perfectly."

Her smile is damn pretty and she had one on right now.

"But how would you decorate your own place?" I readjusted the question. To no avail, which made me want to bash my head against that damn fireplace because her response was, "it's downstairs, you've seen it for yourself." It was said with an amused chuckle. I shook my head no. "That's a shared space between you and your brother," I reminded her. She can read me well enough so she could see I was becoming frustrated. With myself, not her.

I'm not good at this s**t. I'm trying to ask something.

"Are you asking for help to redecorate?" She thought she had me pegged. That isn't it either but I bailed. f*****g coward I am. I just said, "Yes," instead. She clapped her hands and sat up. I drew her close to me. "I'd love that. That would be fun. Of course I'll help" she granted me that smile again. I nodded. f**k. "I'd start with the couch," Mia commented after a beat.

"What's wrong with my couch?" I arched my brow at her. "Nothing, but in my opinion you have cold furniture if that makes any sense. This is very much 'penthouse' furniture, not necessarily 'home' furniture" she used her fingers to gesture quotations. "This is a penthouse" I deadpanned the obvious. She shook her head, "Oh you know what I mean."

I'm not sure I do. She just told me she likes my masculine style. Now she's calling the place cold. Which is it?

"Maybe it's my own bias. I've never walked into a place and felt the settled feeling of 'home'. I almost did back in Paris, but that was never meant to be a forever thing. And my father's house was certainly not home to me. I've been living with people ever since, people who never made anything feel like home. Don't tell Elio, but I even felt that way about our apartment. I guess it's better now. I adore living with my brother again after so many years, but the space doesn't feel like it's mine. I hate feeling like a guest in my own place of living."

I thought about that for a second. f**k. She likes living with Elio. Never f*****g mind. A selfish part of me wants her to feel like 'home' when she's with me here, but clearly she doesn't. I don't blame her. What's comforting and 'homey' about me? Absolutely nothing.

Still a selfish piece of me wished she craved this more than her adornment of living with her brother again. But I've been selfish far too often with her. I can't do it again. For that reason I didn't ask the question I wanted to.