"When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it."

Arabella Karve "I love you," he says while dragging his finger along my palm, memorizing each indentation of the skin that I've never thought twice about, as if it is a sacred scripture.

"And that should be enough," I gaze at him while resting my head on the pillow, his face just inches from mine.

"That's not fair, you know it's more than enough." He holds up my hand, slowly giving small kisses to each of my fingertips, "but I want to know everything about you, Bella. Even the bad."

I take a deep breath. He deserves to know.

"It's a long story," I mumble.

"And I want to listen, per sempre."

"I don't know what that means," I whisper with a small smile.

He leans forward and kisses my temple, "good thing you're pretty."

I roll my eyes as my smile slowly fades, the truth of what happened sitting on the tip of my tongue.

"There–" I swallow nervously, "there was a shooting on my sixteenth birthday." I admit quietly, starting from the first time I ever saw him.

"One hundred and eighty nine people were killed that night, people close to me," my Grandma, "and innocent people I had never met." I whisper softly, my voice wavering. Eros's gaze is unbroken, silently interlacing his fingers with mine in support, his other hand resting on my hip.

"The Russian Syndicate attacked us that night. We weren't prepared. Our defenses were down and they slipped right in."

"Apparently there had been bad blood between our operations for a while, but that was the first time they had ever attacked. It was unexpected, unprovoked."

I am silent for a few seconds.

"That was the first time I saw Dominik Volkov, the heir to the Russian throne."

My voice cracks and Eros leans forward, softly kissing the crown of my head.

I silently scoot closer to him, resting my head on his chest as I stare out the window, the early morning sun shining through.

"Then the letters started a few weeks later," I whisper. "From him talking about watching me sleep and how peaceful I looked, to talking about in what ways he would kill me and the things he would do to my dead body." I breathe, admitting some of the things I never wanted to think about again.

Some of the notes he would slip under my pillow that I would burn so nobody would even know.

I was embarrassed somehow. I was disgusted. I made myself believe it was my fault.

I feel Eros go rigid under me, his breath slowing and hand tightening on my hip.

His hands are gentle on my skin, even though I can almost taste the murderous promises laced in his very existence while my words settle within him.

"We captured one of his right lieutenants a month later, had him interrogated until his skin was sitting on the ground beside his body and he told us everything he knew."

My lip quivers as I tighten my grip around his hand, the feeling of his touch acting as my anchor, keeping me grounded even in the storm. "Dominik's father— a ruthless leader— had given Dominik one final task to decide if he was worthy of the throne or not. Taking me."

"It was perfect for him. He wanted the information he knew I had, wanted to try and blackmail my parents into giving him what he needed."

"But something unexplainable existed between me and Dominik. He became obsessed. Obsessed with watching me every day, seeing the fear in my eyes whenever I found one of his letters, or saw him outside the manor." A tear rolls down my cheek, thinking about every painful moment between us.

"Some nights he would come into my room, just for the fun of it. Or he would show up at my school, just watching me from a distance."

"And as time went on he got braver. He started attacking me—" my heart races as every moment that happened between us runs through my mind. "He never did anything fatal, just wanted to scare me."

"He had all the opportunities to take me, to earn his power, but he didn't."

"Until one night two years later." My hand trembles in Eros's, the memories resurfacing. He slowly takes his hand off of my lower back and brings it to my face, cuffing my jaw.

"What happened, Vita Mia?" He asks softly, a murderous gleam in those eyes I could spend the rest of my life looking at. He uses the pad of his thumb to wipe away my tears, only making me cry harder for some reason.

"Tara," I croak out, "she was my best friend. And–" a sob wracks my body and Eros runs his hand through my hair. "Shh," he hushes me, "breathe, mia Bella."

I slowly match my breathing to his, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

I sniffle, "that night I– I begged her to go out to the garden with me, even though she said it was a bad idea. I promised that he wouldn't be there." I shake my head in denial while sitting up, feeling my chest tighten unbearably. My heart hurts.

The blanket falls from my bare chest, the cold air biting at my skin as my dark hair falls in front of my face. I feel Eros slowly sit up behind me, his solid torso pressing against my back.

He lays a gentle kiss on my shoulder, his arms wrapping around my waist. "Whatever happened that night isn't your fault," he mumbles against my skin.

"It was," he rasp out, "he shot her, Eros." A sob wracks my body, "I killed her."

"And I ran," my voice breaks, "I wasn't thinking straight— and he caught me." My fingers subconsciously find their way to the scar trailing down my neck. "I-I was pinned and there was a rock."

"His body wasn't found," I place my hands in my lap, letting the tears freely run down my face. "His body was never found, they said I killed him."

Eros is silent, slowly putting together all the pieces, "that was who attacked you the night I left." He says, anger seeping into his words.

"No one believes me Eros–" I choke, "they think I'm imagining it."

"Hey– hey, breathe," he mumbles, leaving another kiss on my shoulder. "I believe you. I will always believe you."

"He's going to kill me," I shake my head, panic drenched in my words.

"Don't you even dare say that, Arabella Karve. I will never let him fucking hurt you again. Alright?"

I nod, slowly turning around to look at him. His features soften the moment my eyes meet his, that fierce protectiveness still burning within them.

He gently rests his forehead against mine, his warm breath caressing my face as I take shaky breaths.

"You didn't kill her. What happened that night was not your fault, and it will never be," he breaths, leaning forward and kissing away the tears falling from my eyes. "It wasn't your fault."

I hiccup softly, his lips slowly bringing me back to my consciousness.

"I never met her, but I know that she would have picked you over herself any day. Because any person in their right fucking mind would. She doesn't blame you Bella, and she sure as hell would not want you to blame yourself for something that was out of your control."

I nod, letting his words sink into the scars carved into my soul from the years of self-hatred. The scars carved by my own hands that didn't even know they were holding the knife.

No one has ever told me that it wasn't my fault. No one has ever cared enough.

"And what happened that night was awful, but I will die thankful that it ended how it did."

"Eros no—"

"Yes Arabella. I am thankful that no matter what happened in that garden, you survived. I am thankful that you get to live and I can give you everything you deserve in this goddamn world. I am thankful that I was lucky enough to have been hired as your bodyguard and get to fall in love with you."

I give him an emotion filled smile, my heart expanding with each word he says.

"Sono grato per tutto quando si tratta di te."

꧁꧂

My arms burn as I drop the weights to the floor, my aching body immediately collapsing beside them. Eros chuckles as he looks down at my splayed out body.

Since someone decided to take it upon themselves to help get me out of my 'funk', I am now stuck in the gym with a monster who clearly hates me.

And as I am dying on the ground, there Eros is with his stupid grin, barely having broke a sweat.

"My body was already sore this morning, imagine how I feel now," I groan.

Eros's grin widens as he crosses his arms over his chest, "I'm sorry, baby."

I narrow my eyes at him as he reaches out a hand to help me up, "you're literally trying to kill me right now. Just like that one time you tried to drown—"

"I take back my apology."

"You can't."

"I just did."

I roll my eyes at him and he smirks, a single dimple appearing on his cheek.

"I hate you."

"Not what you were saying last night," he says with an arrogant tone.

I glare at him, watching as he smoothly lays back down on the bench, placing his hands on the bar above his head that's stacked with forty fives on each side.

The low hanging sweatpants loosely hug his body, showing off the art covering his golden skin, giving off a beautiful view of the V-line sitting at the bottom of the row of abs . I slowly sit up as he lifts up the bar, bench pressing the weight that is probably double of mine.

I am transfixed watching as he reps the weight, every muscle in his body rippling with the action, the veins in his arm undeniable.

He lets out a throaty grunt, placing the bar back on the rack, his hollow cheeks tinted with a light tone of red.

"Are you ever going to get another tattoo?" I ask, pulling my knees to my chest as he slowly sits up.

"Probably."

I tilt my head, "of what?"

He shrugs with a playful gleam in those cold eyes, "what about you?"

"I don't even know what that means."

"Self portrait."

I gape at him, "that's actually creepy Eros. You'd regret that."

"Might be creepy, but I sure as hell wouldn't regret it."

"I beg to differ," a smile slowly spreads across my face.

"That right there," he gazes at me. "That's exactly what I want."

"What?" I laugh, shaking my head, making him smile too. Those beautiful smile lines appear on his sun kissed cheeks, thanks to the floor length windows lining the gym walls.

"That smile. That's what I want."

Heat flares across my cheeks, "you're killing me."

His smile widens and my heart flutters at the mere fact that I made him smile. That aching pain in my chest from this morning quiets as I feel his eyes on me, eyes that look like they never want to stop looking.

I love him.

This isn't going to be forever. A little voice suddenly whispers in the back of my mind, the words like a bucket of cold water being thrown over me.

And it finally hits me. This isn't going to be forever. What happens when my reign inevitably falls upon me? An arranged marriage will be organized by my family, doomed to be loveless and thoroughly business, just as my parents was. I don't get my happy ending. I will be married to whoever is most beneficial to the Cosa Nostra, I will have his children, and then I will sit around for the rest of my life, doing whatever my husband requires of me.

A secret relationship with my bodyguard isn't going to last forever. Eros will leave soon. He will continue on with his life. Being clearly well off financially, he could quit today and live the rest of his life doing whatever he wants. He's still young with an entire world to see and endless things to do.

And the other thing I don't want to think about is the fact that he is the most beautiful man alive— physically and mentally— who any girl would be lucky to love. A girl who he can freely be with. Who he doesn't have to sneak around with and can love openly.

And as much as I want to be the girl he will spend the rest of his life with, I know he will '

But for now I'm going to be selfish and hold onto him for as long as I can.

"Thank you Eros," I say softly as he finishes another set, dropping the bar back on the rack with a loud clatter.

"For what, Vita Mia?"

I open my mouth to respond, "everything—"

"Arabella."

A cold voice suddenly rings out from the doorway, my body immediately tensing as my so-called mother calls out my name.

I immediately stand up, snapping my head towards the door.

"What?" I say, my smile falling from my face.

My mother stares at me, her eyes turning towards Eros whose face is void of emotion as he slowly stands up from the bench, his full height immediately making the room tighter.

"I think we need to have a discussion if you aren't busy," she says, looking back towards me. "Breakfast is ready and your father won't be able to attend so it will just be us two."

Her dark brown hair is pulled back in a tight bun, simple curls framing her sharp features and cunning brown eyes. My eyes.

I slowly look towards Eros, my heart faltering at her words. Eros immediately notices the panic concealed within my eyes, his jaw clenching as he steps forward.

"What is there to talk about?" I cross my arms over my chest.

Her gaze is unwavering, " Arabella, let's go to breakfast."

Awkward silence hangs in the air as I walk through the halls beside my mother, Eros following a few steps behind. I give him a thankful smile as he pulls open the dining room door for me, his face stoic— just how he keeps it whenever he's around anyone other than Montague and I.

"Are you gonna tell me what I'm here for or did you just miss my company?" Sarcasm drips in my voice as I grab one of the chocolate muffins off of one of the many warm dishes.

Eros did bring me some food before we worked out, but nonetheless I have a bottomless appetite. And I would eat chocolate off the floor if it came to it.

"You're excused, Mr. Vandare." My mother says, flicking her hand towards the door without even bothering to look at him.

"Why does he have to leave?" I immediately snap, looking up from my food, only to receive a warning glare from my mother.

I don't even bother to look towards Eros, and after a minute I hear the door slam shut, leaving just the woman who is supposed to be my mother and me sitting alone for the first time in— I don't even know how long.

"You need to stop," she warns quietly, catching me completely off guard.

My body stiffens at her words that could mean anything. I try to ignore my pulse pounding in my ears as I keep my face neutral.

"I haven't done anything," I respond, shakily picking up my water glass and bringing it to my lips.

"I know you, Arabella Karve. As much as you don't want me to be, I am your mother." She speaks slowly. "I see the way you look at him. And I have seen the way he looks at you for months."

My heart falls to my stomach.

"You are barely ever apart from him, I don't even know if he goes to his chambers at night." She presses her hand to her forehead, her eyes slowly closing. "It's becoming more and more evident that you two are much more than a bodyguard and client. The second your father realizes," she scoffs, "I don't even want to know."

There's no use in denying it, she knows. She knows that I am in love with someone I can't be.

"Are you going to tell him?" I breathe, my breath quickening.

"No. And that's why I am telling you that this needs to stop right now." Her dark eyes bore into mine. "If it doesn't, I will be forced to take it into my own hands."

"You can't," is all I get out through the lump in my throat. "I love him."

A flicker of emotion suddenly passes through her eyes, one that I have never seen before.

"You know he won't notice, he is barely ever home and doesn't notice anything that involves me."

"It has to end—"

"No, you don't understand," I croak out. "It can't–it just can't." The back of my eyes sting.

"A marriage will be arranged at any moment. It's almost time for you to be the—"

"I know, I know this. So please just let me have this little bit of time with him. Then the second it has to end I will end it." I will beg, I will plead, just to have him for as long as I can get.

She immediately shakes her head.

"Mom," I whisper, my voice cracking as I call her the name that she hasn't heard since I was a child. "Let me just be happy for now. Let me understand what it's like to be loved before the rest of my life is married off and loveless, just like yours. I'm going to lose him soon, just let me be happy for a minute." I say breathlessly.

Her eyes slightly soften for a moment, my words filling the room and sinking into the empty years of blatant hate between us.

"It has to end soon anyways," I whisper, "I just want a little longer with him. And then I won't fight it, I will marry whoever you want me to without a word. I will do whatever you want."

"If," she clears her throat quietly. "If I let this continue— then you are going to need to trust me from here on." She says under her breath, almost as if it is painful to get out.

"Why?" My mind racks for answers on why she— of all people— could need my trust. Every movement she makes has a reason. I've known that since a young age. Like when she married my father to be entitled to his power. Or when she suddenly went infertile after having a daughter, so that if anything had happened to my father before I was eighteen, she would be the next in line.

The only thing I can come up with is the day I ran in on her rummaging through my fathers desk drawers, filled with confidential information regarding the business.

"Is that a no?"

"No– God, I will do whatever," I breathe while shaking my head. "My trust is yours."

"Good then. I will come to you once it is needed. Until then, this conversation never happened and no questions will be asked."

"Okay."

꧁꧂

When Eros asked me what my mother wanted to discuss, I told him that she had more questions about what happened in the garden that day. I could tell he knew I was lying by the way he just silently kissed my forehead, not even bothering to respond.

I know I could trust Eros with my life, but this time every time I tried to tell him, the words just wouldn't leave my mouth. We are playing by her rules, and I want to pretend for a little longer that the time I have with him is coming to an inevitable end.

I hate everything about what is happening, it is unfair, but then nothing in my life has ever been fair. Why should this be any different?

"Eros, your phone keeps going off," I call out, scrolling mindlessly on my phone. I lean back on our bed, glancing up from the bed only to see Eros casually leaning against the bathroom door frame. He brushes his teeth as he stares at me, the action much hotter than it should be. "I think one of your lovers will acquire your immediate attention."

He shoots me an unamused glance before turning around and wandering back into the bathroom.

I hear him spit into the sink, "Who is it?" His voice rings out over the running faucet.

I groan dramatically before rolling over and grabbing his phone sitting on top of my scattered pile of books, lazily thrown on the nightstand a couple of days ago.

I turn over his phone, seeing that it is set up like a fortress, not allowing me to see the contact name or the messages. "I don't know who it is, your phone is locked." I furrow my eyebrows, wondering why it's set up that way and who could have sent him eleven messages.

"It's your birthday."

"Hm?" I stare at the open bathroom door as the water turns off, sure I misunderstood what he said.

"The password, Vita Mia. It's your birthday."

I look back down at the phone in my hands, unsurely typing in the passcode. My heart flutters in my chest when it immediately unlocks.

I quickly open up his messages app, smiling as I see his total of four contacts, two of them not even having a name put in.

"Who's William?" I ask, clicking on his name, confusion lining my face as I see all the messages from him. Each of them beg Eros to at least talk or are apologizing— over and over again.

Eros steps out of the bathroom, turning off the light behind him as he saunters towards me, his eyes freezing over at the name.

But the action doesn't show anger or hate like I usually see from him, it just shows— hurt.

The familiar sting of the way his demeanor shifts— like the night he saw me on Dimitri's lap— fills my chest.

"He's no one."

I open my arms up, letting Eros immediately lay his head down on my chest.

"Believable," I mumble sarcastically, letting him wrap his muscular arms around my waist.

He's silent for a moment, "my brother."

"Oh," I breathe, never having heard him admit anything about his family.

"Why is he apologizing to you?" I bring my hands to his hair, gently massaging his head.

He lets out a throaty groan, the sound reverberating throughout me.

"Eros," I say in a sing-songy voice, dragging out his name, "talk to me, darling."

"I like when you call me that," he grumbles into my chest, his hand sliding under my shirt.

"I like when you talk to me," I hum, raking my fingers through his messy head of raven colored hair.

"When I was eight he left me," he finally admits, his voice rough. "He told me he was coming back that night, and he never fucking did."

I nod carefully, staying silent as the truth sinks in.

"It doesn't matter anymore," he says in a stoic voice.

I hate that he thinks that. I hate that he tries to diminish what happened to him.

"Don't say that," I say softly, "of course it matters."

"He didn't want to deal with our fucked up father so he left it to me. What's done is done."

My heart aches thinking about Eros in pain. My hand carefully leaves Eros's hair, moving along the top of his back, brushing against the rough scars that I now realize were given to him by his own father.

Eros tenses at the action, his body going rigged against mine.

"You dad hurt him too?" I whisper, my words more of a statement than a question. Dominik's words ring in my ears and hate fills my chest like never before. The fact that he said that—

Eros hesitantly nods, slowly relaxing against my touch.

"Why?" I whisper, familiar with how it feels to be hurt by the person supposed to love you most in this world.

He shrugs, his arms tightening around my waist, "if we misbehaved." He takes a deep breath, the topic clearly painful, "Or to let out his anger." His Italian accent rings in my ears.

"And that's why you were out on the streets so young?" I whisper breathlessly, remembering when he told me that a man took him in, training him to become the weapon he is today.

"I couldn't stay any longer."

I kiss the top of his head, "I'm so sorry Eros," I breathe, not knowing what to say. Not knowing how to tell him all the emotions sitting within my chest.

"It's alright, Bella." He says, his hand sliding up to the side of my ribs. Goosebumps rise upon my skin as the cold meddle of his rings move along my torso.

"You deserved— you deserve— so much better."

"I have you," his tone leaves no room for argument, "that's already more than I have ever deserved."

"But-" I pause, " I just wish I could take away the pain."

"You do," he says without hesitation, kissing the nape of my neck.

He kisses along my neck as I get lost within my own thoughts. "I hope you know you can always talk to me," I whisper softly and he kisses my jaw.

"I know, baby."

I let out a soft hum as he lovingly sucks on the sensitive skin where my neck meets my shoulder.

"Eros?"

"Hm?"

"Have you ever thought about talking to him?" I ask carefully, his lips softly leaving my skin.

"I haven't since that night."

Eros deserves to have people in his life who love him. He deserves to have a relationship with his brother. William made an unforgettable mistake, one that has to weigh on him everyday. But as much as I hate what he did, I know he was a kid too.

"I'm not saying that you should forgive him, but you know that he has his own side too. Maybe having lunch with him, even just once, would help you to understand why he did what he did." I run my thumb along his bottom lip. "It's unfair that you have to live everyday with the burden of hating your own brother."

Eros slightly nods, his cunning eyes deep in thought.

"I'm not trying to push anything on you," I quickly tell him. He kisses me softly in response, before pulling away with a gentle expression.

"I'll think about it."

"Good," I whisper with a small smile.

"I love you," he says, his voice rough as he gazes at me, "così fottutamente tanto."

"I love you, Eros Vandare."

꧁꧂

SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE! BIRTHDAY WEEK SO I WAS SWAMPED❤️ HOPE YOU ENJOYED THOUGH!!

Please remember to vote and comment xoxo<33

Word count:4562