Bound by the Don(3)

By: Brook Wilder





Once his happy sounds stopped, Sharon dismounted as gracefully as she could on the soft duvet. The sun had gone completely down, so the room was pleasantly dark.



“That was fantastic,” Vittorio complimented her. “Nice surprise. I thought you were mad at me.”



Sharon shrugged coyly. “I was.”



Then I decided to run, she said to herself.



“Well, I’m sorry I made you mad. I handled some things today and hopefully we won’t be hearing from Rocco anymore.” Vittorio told her. He wrapped a hand around her waist. “Now we can just focus on us.”



“Yeah, we sure can,” Sharon said, forcing a smile. She wondered if he even really cared about “them” or if he was just deceiving her again. Even if they did end up together, could Sharon ever really trust him?



“You okay?” he asked. Clearly, Vittorio could tell something was up. Sharon had never been a very good actress.



“What? Oh yeah, just tired,” Sharon said, raising a hand to her mouth and forcing a yawn.



“Me too,” Vittorio said, his mouth also widening into a yawn. “I know it’s early, but I slept like shit last night.”



“So did I,” Sharon agreed. Her heart rate quickened, she couldn’t believe her plan was actually working. “Maybe we should just turn in? Get any early start to the day tomorrow?”



“That actually sounds really nice,” Vittorio said sleepily. His eyelids drooped and he looked just a few moments away from sleep.



Sharon pulled the covers back, so he could crawl into bed. She had never seen him so mellowed. It was sort of sweet to watch him snuggle up with himself. She lay down next to him and waited for the slow, heavy breaths of sleep.



Just as he drifted off, Vittorio mumbled, “I really love you, you know. I dunno what I’d do if I ever lost you.”



Well, you’re about to find out, Sharon smarted to herself.



“Love you too,” she cooed.



Vittorio fell asleep. Sharon knew she couldn’t act too quickly and risk waking him. She waited until his deep breaths evolved into snores before gently peeling the blanket off herself. With slow, gentle movements she swung her legs over the edge of the bed.



Across the bed, Sharon could see moonlight glinting off a heap of silver.



Yes! she thought. The keys were exactly where she had hoped they would be. As silently as possible, she crept around the bed and ever-so-carefully picked them up. The metal jingled a bit as she grabbed them and Sharon winced.



Vittorio didn’t even stir.



Sharon took one last look at his handsome face. There was no denying his good looks and the soft nature of sleep had him looking younger, meeker and even more lovable in the bluish light.



He’s a monster, Sharon had to remind herself. They could never be together. They were just too different. For more than one reason, Sharon knew the right thing to do was to leave.



After collecting her pile of clothes and shoes off the floor, she snuck out the bedroom door and down the dark hallway. She dressed herself quickly, then carefully picked her way down the stairs, eventually finding her way back to the kitchen. She avoided the dining room. She hadn’t been back in since the shooter attacked them, and she dreaded the sight of dried blood on the walls.



I’m doing the right thing by leaving, Sharon continued to remind herself. She opened the door to the garage and closed it gently behind her. She flipped the garage light on and took one more sad look at Vittorio’s cars. They really were beautiful. Another girl might have thought she was crazy for walking away from a life this luxurious, but it just wasn’t Sharon.



Sharon realized a problem she hadn’t considered. She would need to open the large garage door in order to get Vittorio’s car out on the road. Would the loud mechanical buzzing wake Vittorio? Or was the house big enough that he wouldn’t hear it?



It was a risk she had to take. Sharon smacked the button to open the garage. The mechanism rumbled to life with a loud roar as it dragged the door up.



Shit, Sharon thought. She broke into a run towards the swanky Mercedes and beeped the fob. She hurled herself into the driver’s seat and fumbled with the key. She pushed it into the lock and jerked the seat forward so that her short legs could reach the pedals. She threw the car in reverse and zoomed out of the garage. She fussed with the manual transmission, trying to remember what her dad had taught her on their bumpy truck back home. She pumped the clutch and changed gears, driving the speedy car into the tree-lined tunnel that led to her freedom.



Sharon sped out onto the road, adrenaline saturating her every nerve. She turned the way she thought they’d come and floored it.

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