Chapter 161
The rain intensified so much it felt like the sky was falling down. Outside, the sound of water hitting the roof drowned out all other noise. Nancy and I finished eating, and she stood there staring at her empty plate as if still dreaming about what she'd just swallowed.
"You can order another," Vincenzo's voice came firmly, even though he wasn't facing her. "I know you're still hungry."
Her eyes widened and she smiled like a child. He didn't even need to look. He just knew.
"Oh, thank God, boss! I was about to suck the sauce off the napkin!" she said, raising her hand to call the woman behind the counter.
Vincenzo didn't even turn around, just calmly replied:
"I know when you're hungry, Nancy."
"See, Rachel? A man who understands my hunger is a man who deserves respect!" she said, placing her hand over her heart as if she were moved. "And then they say soulmates don't exist…" I whispered, chuckling softly.
"You're spying on me, are you?" Nancy joked, already beckoning the lady from the counter again with her agitated little hand.
I slowly got up from the stool and walked over to him. Vincenzo was standing, arms crossed, staring blankly at the wet street outside. His dark t-shirt clung to his shoulders from the rain, and I could see how tense he was. He looked like he was carrying a weight no one there could share with him.
I touched his arm carefully.
"Can we talk a bit? Just you and me?"
He just nodded. He didn't say anything. He just turned to face me and then to the security guard standing next to him, saying firmly:
"Keep an eye on everything."
The security guard just nodded and positioned himself like a protective shadow beside the entrance. Vincenzo took my hand firmly, and I led him deeper into the restaurant.
"I know it's just us here, but I wanted to talk somewhere more private," I said quietly. "Even so, I know there's no way we can escape the situation we're in."
"Not for now," he replied, his tone a mix of strength and weariness.
That's when he looked at the woman at the counter and said something in Japanese. I didn't understand a word; I just saw her bow to him respectfully and then point to a door covered by a red curtain next to the counter.
Vincenzo bowed respectfully too. And then he looked at me.
"Let's go."
I followed him down a narrow, dimly lit hallway that seemed to lead to some kind of spiral staircase. The place smelled of old wood and wet tatami. It was cozy, but hidden. In a way, it seemed perfect for us.
"What did you tell her?" I asked as we climbed the stairs.
"I asked for a place where we could talk alone. She let us go upstairs."
"Is this place a hotel?" I asked, looking at the walls with several wooden doors.
"Downstairs is a traditional restaurant. Upstairs is a motel," he said, expressionless.
My head felt like it was spinning.
"A motel?"
He stopped in front of a door, put his hand on the doorknob, and said in that low, firm voice:
"This is it."
And then, the door opened.
The room was simple. It had a low, Japanese-style double bed, white sheets, a small wooden table in the corner, and a balcony overlooking the wet alleys below. The light was yellowish, soft. The sound of the rain still echoed inside, muffled by the thin walls. And even with the tension of everything we were experiencing... the place seemed suspended in time.
Vincenzo entered first and looked around. Silent, as always. As if listening to things no one else could hear.
"It's okay," he said. "We can talk here."
I closed the door behind me and took a deep breath. I didn't even know where to begin. I just knew I needed him to open up a little, just a little. To me.
"You're being very quiet," I said, moving closer to him. "I know you're worried, and rightly so, but you don't have to carry this alone."
He remained silent.
His hand rested on the balcony railing, his fingers tapping lightly against the wood as if counting down the seconds until everything exploded. I walked over to him slowly, pressed my body against his back, and wrapped my arms around his waist.
"Vincenzo, I'm here. I want to be here. But you need to let me help you."
He turned his face slightly toward me, just a little, and took a deep breath.
"I can't fail you, Rachel." His voice was hoarse. "This boy... he's my responsibility. I let him be born into chaos, just like I was. And now he's living in hell... just like I did.
I felt his chest rise and fall slowly. He was trying to maintain control. As always.
"I know," I said softly. "But you're not alone anymore. You have me. You have Nancy. There are people who truly love you, Vincenzo."
He turned to me fully, his intense eyes boring into mine. He was hurt, furious, determined. But deep inside, he was also afraid. And that was what hurt me.
"You You don't understand... I killed so much inside myself to survive. I don't know how to feel these things properly anymore," he confessed, as if it ripped pieces of him apart.
I touched his face with both hands.
"I understand more than you know. You don't have to feel everything at once. Just let me show you that there's still something inside."
For a second, he hesitated. And then he pulled me close with a strength that mixed pain and desire. His lips pressed against mine with an urgency that took my breath away. Tension turned to heat. Fear turned to impulse. He grabbed me by the waist and guided me to the bedroom wall, never losing control for a second.
"Rachel..." he murmured against my mouth, his breathing heavy.
"Let me calm you... the way I know how," I said, without taking my eyes off him.
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