[Alfio's Pov]
Tick.Tock.Tick.
If I listen closely, I can hear the clock mocking me.
That smug little bastard on the wall hasn't stopped since Salvo locked me in here. It ticks like it's counting down something—my sanity, maybe. Or my last sliver of self-worth.
I haven't moved from the bed in hours. Not because I'm tired. No, I'm past tired. I'm hollow.
The kind of hollow where breathing feels like a borrowed habit.
The sheets still smell like him. His goddamn cologne—it's in the pillows, the mattress, and my skin. I tried rubbing it off, I swear. I tried wiping it from my arms like it was blood.
Didn't work.
Of course, it didn't.
Because everything about him sticks. His words, his hands, his scent… his rules.
I sit up slowly, back against the headboard. My voice cracks from disuse, but I whisper it anyway.
"Am I really just… something to be called useless or pathetic?"
