57| Influence.
ANTONIO.
Oliver was the one who stupidly came for me first; how could she even beg for his life? I had never spared anyone who attempted to murder me, and that wouldn’t change now. I would go after him, and I would make him suffer for putting my life and that of Rosalinda in danger.
“Antonio, please.” She continued pleading, refusing to relent after repeatedly making it clear that her request was something I was unable to grant.
“You should go home.” I told her as I walked past her and started walking towards the door.
“Please. Don’t kill him.” She repeated for the hundredth time, but this time the words came out with a shaky voice.NôvelDrama.Org © 2024.
My eyes narrowed as I swiftly turned to look at her.
“Please.” She persisted as tears began to profusely stream down her cheeks.
An unpleasant feeling immediately twisted in my heart as I trudged towards her in long strides, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her to my chest. I hated to see her cry. It stirred up an emotion in me-hurt.
“Rosalinda, stop, please.” I groaned, placing my hands on her shoulders and slightly pulling myself away until I could see her face.
“Stop.” I said again, wiping the tears off her face with the back of my hand. “I don’t like this.”
“Then don’t kill him.” She appealed in between sobs.
“Fine!” I groaned, the words leaving my mouth before I could even stop them.
As thirsty as I was for Oliver’s blood, my desire to stop Rosalinda from crying overweighed that thirst. I hated to see her like that. My heart twisted at the sight of her crying.
For a moment, she stopped crying and hoisted her head to look at me, her wet eyes staring directly into mine. “You won’t kill him?”
“Yes. I won’t.” I groaned reluctantly.
“Promise?”
When I hesitated to reply, the tears came rushing back in a full-blown stream, crushing her pretty face.
“I promise!” I groaned, shaking my head.
Such a drama queen!
All it took for me to change my mind about murdering the man who attempted to kill me was tears from Rosalinda’s eyes. That woman had a place rooted deep inside my heart.
“Are you sure?” She asked to confirm.
“Yes.” I sighed, wiping the tears from her face. “Stop crying now, okay?”
She finally stopped spilling the tears, and a long silence lingered between us. As I stared at her, I couldn’t help but admire how beautiful she was, even with the wetness smeared all over her face.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” She finally asked after a while.
“Nothing.” I muttered, averting my gaze.
Flicking her gaze at one of the paintings in the room, she started walking towards it, my eyes trailing her every move.
“It’s beautiful.” She said as she came to a stop in front of it.
“I got it from an art exhibition.” I strolled towards her, standing beside her as we both stared at the painting. “It reminds me of my mom.”
“How so?” She asked curiously, her eyes still fixed on the painting.
“As you can see, the butterfly was painted with a mix of vibrant colors. I don’t know much about art, but I can tell that it depicts vibrancy.” I paused for a few seconds, a sad smile touching my lips as I thought of her. “My mother was a vibrant woman.”
Rosalinda glanced at me briefly before returning her gaze to the painting. “May her soul rest in peace.”
“Amen.”
Silence creeped in, and it remained like that for a while as we both stared at the painting. She was admiring it, and I was thinking of my mother. I missed her. So much.
“Why did you leave me?” Rosalinda suddenly asked, her gaze still fixed on the painting.
“What?” I turned to look at her.
“You know exactly what I am talking about. You kissed me and then disappeared like nothing happened. We never even got to talk about it.” She seethed.
“I-” I trailed off, slightly scratching my temple with my index finger. “You won’t understand.”
“If you explain, I would understand.” She finally turned to look at me, her brows creasing as she gritted out. “I am not daft!”
“Just forget it.” I groaned as I turned around and started walking away from her, deciding not to talk about it.
There was no day that I’d go to Roberto’s place without having a strong urge to go see her. But each time, I had to chide myself against it. The closer I got to her, the more difficult it would get to let her go. And we both knew that we could never be together. So what was the point of feeding an attraction that was doomed to end?
“Tell me what I won’t understand.” She persisted, following me.
“We should stop talking about this and just stay away from each other. It’s better that way.” I said in a dismissive tone.
But Rosalinda, being the stubborn woman that she was, refused to relent.
“So it was all lies.” She stated, stressing the ‘lies’
Turning to look at her, I raised a brow. “What?”
“You didn’t mean it when you said you were crazy about me.” She continued, holding my gaze.
“Of course I meant it! It’s just that-” I trailed off, unable to form the right words.
“It’s just that what, Antonio?!” She retorted, her voice slightly raised.
I raked my fingers through my hair in frustration, the words slipping out as I pulled my hand away. “I am crazy about you, Rosa!”
“Then why did you leave me?!” She took a fierce step forward, rage flicking within the depths of her eyes. “Because I am also crazy about you. When you left, I was hurt and in pain. I couldn’t think of anything or anyone else. That’s how much influence you have on me.”
“Let’s not even talk about influence, Rosalinda. You were all over my head. I keep dazing off in meetings, while working, and in everything I do, thinking about you. I keep thinking of how much I want you in my arms and how much I miss you. Fuck, sometimes I even see your face on other people’s faces. That’s how much influence you have on me!” I spurted out in one breath.
She was embedded deep in my brain, heart, body, and soul.
“Then stop pushing me away.” She closed the distance between us, wrapping her arms around my neck, our eyes staring intently into each other.
“Stop pushing me away.” She repeated, her voice a whisper.
Her beautiful green eyes allured me in ways I couldn’t explain. I yearned for her. Every bit of her. Every inch of her skin.
A pool of blood rushed to my manhood, making it rock hard, and I possessively wrapped my arm around her tiny waist, pressing her against my hardness. I wanted her to feel how much I craved her and how damn badly I yearned to be inside her.