#I'll try to do something similar for Warsaw | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

matan4il · 11 months

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Hi. I'm Polish and I want to educate myself. Last week I went to The Polish Jews Museum Polin in Warsaw, Poland.

I also read a lot of online leftist stuff.

Cam you tell me what were 2019 Gaza protests about? Why are you calling them "protests"? I thought they were largely peaceful.

Hi! Sorry it took me a moment to reply. You might have noticed that I'm getting a lot of asks, and I do try to research some things before replying. I'm glad you're trying to educate yourself, I hope you do so by more than just reading whatever anti-Israeli blogs are posting here, posts which de-humanize Israelis and Jews, and justify the violence and murder of our people.

Here's a few pics from the events you're asking me about, organized by the terrorist organization Hamas. In the first pic, please note that each "peaceful protester" is holding a weapon, including an axe (you mentioned the Holocaust... ever since I guided at our museum a Holocaust survivor from Libya, who was attacked by axe-wielding local Arabs half a year after the end of WWII, forever scarring his head and his hands, I never look at an axe in the same way):

And here's some of those "peaceful protesters" with cutters that would allow them to try and breach the fence on Israel's border:

If there's any doubt what would these Hamas terrorists have done if they had succeeded back then in crossing into Israel, we got the answer during the massacre of Oct 7.

On the surface, these "protests" were about Palestinian liberation. But on Apr 9, 2018 Sinwar, the leader of Hamas in Gaza, admitted that he was staging these riots to divert attention away from the failure of the Palestinian Hamas and Fatah to reconcile. An internal Palestinian matter erupted as violence targeting Israel, allowing Hamas to depict itself as THE leader in Palestinian society.

Anyone telling you that these border riots were peaceful is trying to sell you something. Beyond selling you hatred for Israel, the biggest Jewish community in the world today, it's also meant to sell you an alibi. According to this, Hamas' terrorists supposedly had to use violence, 'coz they tried protesting peacefully, and that failed. But these were not actually peaceful protests. Hamas has never tried peace, and has never wanted to, since it's an antisemitic organization committed to the murder of all Jews. It's the same people who murdered over 1,400 people in Israel on Oct 7, who brutally raped, beheaded, tortured, cut off limbs, cut off intimate parts, burned people alive, and all in the name of an ideology that strives to kill every Jew in the world.

Does it sound like "protests" organized by this entity along the border of the Jewish state could have ever been peaceful?

The riots lasted continuously for almost two years, from Mar 30, 2018 to Dec 27, 2019. Since then, there were more riots by the fence, but they had been sporadic. So most of the time, people refer to that period when the riots were a constant. Here's a report on the violence taking place during the riots, released on Mar 27, 2019 (almost a year after they started. Click the pic for better quality):

Again, since you mentioned educating yourself on the Holocaust, I'll point out the swastika that these Hamas terrorists drew on that arson kite that you can see in the above screenshot. I can give you many more examples of how they use the swastika, for now I'll just include one more:

I found another report for you, from an intelligence and terrorism research center. It's from a much earlier point during the riots, posted on May 28, 2018. It mentions the violent nature of the riots, but it also identifies most of those killed when trying to breach Israel's fence up until that point. They're overwhelmingly members of terrorist organizations (not just Hamas). A report from Jan 21, 2019 had similar findings.

Something else to take note of is that Hamas actually paid people to join these violent riots. How much would people get paid depended on how bad their fate would be. Think about how cruel Hamas is being to its own Palestinian people... Hamas is estimated to be one of the richest terrorist organizations in the world (with most of the money going to Hamas' leaders). Here's a reminder that Hamas spent A LOT of money on the Oct 7 massacre, which it could have spent on the Gazans. A little over half of the Gaza population is kept in a state of poverty (the rest are Hamas members or affiliated with it, such as the wives and kids of Hamas terrorists). So, this terrorist organization intentionally keeps the people in Gaza poor, then offers to pay them if they go try to breach the border, and get injured or killed. That gives people motivation not just to participate, but to be violent, in the hope of attracting gunfire from the IDF. Hamas actively encouraged the Palestinians in Gaza to be violent, and to die.

Another piece of evidence that the riots were violent is that there were eight Israelis killed and over 380 injured during these "peaceful protests." If they had been peaceful events, and had been kept to the Gazan side of the border, there should have been no casualties on the Israeli side. This is Barel Chadaria Shmueli (on the right), who was killed by a Palestinian that got close enough to an IDF post along the fence to shoot him point blank:

There are also lots of vids showing the violent nature of the riots, here are two that I can embed, and one I can only link you to, and which reports on over 100 explosive devices thrown at IDF soldiers during that one day alone...

youtube

One last, but crucial thing that I'm going to add here... How do you think Hamas managed to breach the Israeli border fence on Oct 7? Hamas used the "peaceful protests" to study the fence and the soldiers guarding it, figure out where there were weaknesses and blind spots, and use that information to infiltrate Israel and massacre over 1,000 innocent civilians here (and over 340 soldiers trying to protect them). Without these "peaceful protests," all of those people would have been alive. In fact, according to one report, some of the explosive devices along the fence that were blown up by Hamas on the day of the massacre might have been planted there secretly during one of the more recent riots along the border.

I hope I managed to answer your question? Let me know if anything wasn't clear!

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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365dniprivate · 4 years

Text

Chapter 4

Giardini Naxos - the town where Martin and I had arrived a few days ago, lay several kilometers from Taormina and was visible from virtually everywhere in the city. It dawned on me that this city had previously been one of our sightseeing destinations, which is why it'd felt so familiar. What if we came across Martin, Michał or Karolina? Would any of them try to step in and rescue me? I fidgeted restlessly in my seat while considering this thought.

"They left the island yesterday," he said, as if reading my mind. How did he know what I was thinking about? I stared at him with a puzzled look, but he didn't seem to notice.9

When we arrived, the sun was slowly setting on the streets of Taormina. The city was teeming with life; hundreds of tourists and residents, tempted by numerous cafes and restaurants, filled the narrow, picturesque roads. I smiled when I began to notice signs pointing to all kinds of luxury boutiques. These stores were a common sight in Warsaw, but in a place that was practically at the end of the world, they were completely unexpected.

The car stopped, and the driver got out to open the door for us. Massimo offered me his hand to help me exit the large SUV. Another car pulled up next to us, from which stepped out two men dressed in black suits - Massimo's protection. He led me down one of the main roads, his men following behind at a close distance so as not to draw attention to themselves. If their goal was to blend in, a better outfit would've been shorts and flip-flops, though I supposed it would've been difficult to hide a weapon in beach clothes.

The first store we visited was the Roberto Cavalli boutique. We'd no sooner stepped through the door when a saleswoman rushed to us, warmly welcoming my companion, then me. An older man, dressed quite fashionably, came out of the back room and greeted Massimo in Italian with two kisses on the cheeks, then turned toward me.

"Bella," he said, holding my hands; it was one of the few words in Italian that I understood. I smiled warmly at him, in thanks for his compliment.

"My name is Antonio, and I'll be helping you select the perfect wardrobe," he began in fluent English. He studied me for a bit, then stated matter-of-factly, "Size 36, yes? Maybe even 34, depending on bra size."

"As you can see, nature hasn't endowed me well," I said, pointing with laughter to my breasts.

"Oh, my love!" Antonio exclaimed. "Roberto Cavalli loves such shapes! Let us go and give Don Massimo a chance to rest."

Massimo sat down on a couch made of luxurious silver material. A cold bottle of Dom Pérignon was waiting beside him, and one of the grateful saleswomen filled a glass for him. Massimo gave me a lustful look, then opened a newspaper and started to read.

Antonio, whistling contentedly, brought dozens of dresses to the fitting room, flying past me while carrying garments of incredible value. You could easily purchase an apartment in Warsaw with how much these all cost, I thought. After trying on clothes for a little over an hour, I settled on a few different outfits that were packed away for us in decorative boxes.

The situation was similar in the other stores we stopped at - an excited, over the top welcome and endless shopping. Prada, Louis Vuitton, Chanel, Louboutin; each time, Massimo would sit down and flip through his newspaper, talk on his phone or check something on his iPad. He didn't seem to be interested in what I was doing at all, which on the one hand felt like a nice reprieve, but on the other hand annoyed me greatly.

I couldn't figure him out; this morning it'd been nearly impossible for him to tear himself away from me, and now that he had the opportunity to see me in all of these beautiful clothes, he wanted nothing to do with me. Is this how Julia Roberts felt in Pretty Woman?

Victoria's Secret, which was our final destination, greeted us with a barrage of pink. The color was everywhere - on the walls, on the couches, on the saleswomen; it made me feel like I'd fallen into a cotton candy machine.2

Massimo looked at me while pulling the phone away from his ear. "This will be our last stop for today; we're almost out of time. Keep that in mind while shopping," he said casually, then turned away, sat down in a nearby chair and resumed his conversation. I stood there and looked at him disapprovingly - not because the shopping spree was over, as I'd had enough, but because of the way he'd treated me.

"Signora," the saleswoman called to me. She invited me into the fitting room with a friendly gesture. The first thing I noticed as I walked in was the sheer number of bathing suits, lingerie sets, and pairs of underwear that'd already been set aside for me, with the mountain of colorful fabrics - mainly lace - fully covering one of the chairs.

"You don't need to try on everything, just one or two sets so I can be sure that the size I've chosen for you is correct," she said and disappeared, sliding the heavy pink curtain behind her. What are all these panties for? I haven't owned this many pairs in my entire life, I thought.

I leaned out from behind the curtain and asked the saleswoman, "Who chose all these?"

She jumped to her feet and stepped closer. "Don Massimo asked that we prepare these items from our catalogue specifically for you."

"I understand," I said, hiding back behind the curtain. I began to notice a distinct pattern while rummaging through the pile: lace, lace, and more lace, with one or two cotton pieces thrown in. How incredibly comfortable, I grunted ironically.1

I chose to try on the combined silk and red lace set, and slowly took off my dress. The delicate bra fit perfectly on my small breasts, and I was thrilled to find out that, although it wasn't a push-up bra, it made my bust look very tempting. I bent down and dragged the lace thong over my legs. When I straightened up to look in the mirror, I saw Massimo standing behind me. He was leaning against the fitting room wall with his hands in his pockets, eyeing me up and down.

I turned and glared at him. "What are you..." was all I managed to say before he grabbed my neck and pressed my back to the mirror. He clung to me with his whole body, gently running his thumb over my lips. I tensed up, his body blocking my every move. He stopped playing with my mouth and stretched his arm around my neck. The embrace wasn't strong, and it didn't have to be; he just needed to assert his dominance.

"Don't move," he said, piercing right through me with his wild eyes. He looked down and groaned softly. "You look nice," he hissed through his teeth, "But you can't wear this - not yet."

The words "you can't" were spoken by him with encouragement, almost as if it was an order for me to do the exact opposite. I moved my bottom away from the cold mirror and slowly took a step forward. Massimo didn't object, moving backward with the same rhythm and speed as I was moving forward, keeping his hand clamped on my neck the entire time.

When I was far enough from the mirror that he could see me completely, I noticed that his gaze was fixed on my reflection, as if watching his prey. He was breathing loudly, his chest rising more rapidly, his pants growing too tight.

"Massimo," I said softly. He turned his gaze away from my ass and looked into my eyes. "Leave the fitting room, or I guarantee this will be the first and last time you see me like this."

He smiled, treating what I'd said as a challenge. His hand tightened around my neck, and his eyes burned with a combination of rage and desire. He took a step forward, then another, and stuck my body against the cold mirror again, releasing my neck.

"I chose all of this for you, and I'll decide when I see it," he said calmly, then turned and left. I stood there for a moment, feeling enraged and overjoyed at the same time; I was starting to understand the rules of his game, and starting to learn my opponent's weak spots.

As I was putting my dress back on, I felt my anger consuming me. I grabbed the pile that was sitting on the chair and barged out of the fitting room. The saleswoman jumped up, but I stormed past her to find Massimo sitting on the couch again. I went and threw everything I was carrying in my hands at him.

"Here - you chose all this, so have it!" I screamed, and ran out of the store. The security detail that'd been waiting outside the boutique cared little as I passed them; they simply looked back to check on Massimo, then relaxed.

I ran through the crowded streets, wondering what I'd just done and what would happen to me. I saw a staircase between two buildings and quickly climbed it. There was another staircase, further down from where I stood, so I ran to it and continued climbing higher and higher until I was about two blocks away from where I'd escaped. I leaned against the wall, exhausted; though my shoes were beautiful, they were definitely not made for running. I looked toward the sky, at the castle overlooking Taormina. Fuck no, I can't endure a whole year of this, I thought.

"It used to be a fortress," I heard a voice say from behind me. "Do you want to keep running there, or will you save my men the effort, and remember - they don't have the same heart condition as you."

I turned to see Massimo standing on the steps. I could tell he'd been running after me, as his hair was now messy from the wind, but he wasn't gasping for air like I was. He leaned against the wall and casually put his hands in his pockets.

"We must head back now; if you need a work out, there's a gym at my residence, along with a swimming pool. If you were just interested in running up some stairs, I've got a number of them waiting for you."

I knew I had no choice but to go back with him, but at least for a brief moment it'd felt like I was doing what I wanted to do. He reached his hand out to me, but I ignored it and started back down the stairs, where two men now stood in black suits. I glared at them both, walked to the SUV parked next to them, climbed inside and slammed the door.

* * * * * * *

It was a while before Massimo joined me in the car. He sat next to me, phone to his ear, until we arrived back at his villa and parked in the driveway. I had no idea what his conversation was about, as I only understood a few words of Italian, but his tone was very flat and calm. He listened for most of the call, speaking only a few brief sentences here and there, his body language giving nothing away.

I tried grabbing the door handle to exit the vehicle, but it was locked. Massimo finished his conversation, put the phone inside his jacket pocket and looked at me. "Dinner will be ready in an hour; I'll send Domenico to get you."

The car door opened and the young man extended a hand to help me out. I got out without his help and passed him, smiling brightly. I walked inside, with Domenico following close behind, and kept my focus away from the area that'd been the scene of last night's nightmare.

"To the right," he said quietly as I headed through the wrong door. I looked back and nodded, thanking him for his direction, and moments later arrived back to my room. Domenico stood in the doorway, as if waiting for permission to enter.

"I'll have the items you've purchased today brought here for you. Is there anything else I can do for you?" He asked.

"Yes, I'd like to have a drink before dinner - unless I'm not allowed to, of course."

He smiled and nodded knowingly, then disappeared into the darkness of the corridor. I went into the bathroom, closed the door and threw off my dress. I stood in the shower and turned on the cold water; after today, I needed to cool down. The freezing water made it difficult to breathe but became pleasant after a while, and once my emotions had been cooled, I increased the temperature. I washed my hair, applied conditioner and sat back against the wall. The water was comfortably warm and flowing gently down the glass panels surrounding the shower, soothing me.1

I took a moment to stop and think about the day's events. I was so confused; Massimo was such a complicated man, and very unpredictable. I realized that if I didn't start to accept the situation I found myself in and try my best to live a normal life, I'd quickly become defeated.

Another thought occurred to me - What was I fighting for? There was nothing waiting for me back in Warsaw, and everything I'd once had was now gone; all that was left was the adventure that fate had thrust upon me. It's time to get a grip and come to terms with this situation, Laura, I thought to myself, then stood up from the floor.

I rinsed my hair and wrapped it in a towel, then put on a bathrobe and left the bathroom to see dozens of boxes filling the bedroom. I was overwhelmed at the sight of them, but I had a plan in mind for my purchases.

I found some bags with the Victoria's Secret logo and started to dig through the dozens of options Massimo had picked out for me, eventually coming across the red lace set I'd tried on earlier in the store. I searched some more boxes to find a short, see-through black dress, then pulled out a matching pair of Louboutin heels. Now that's an outfit that Massimo definitely won't be able to handle.1

I headed back to the bathroom, toward the vanity, taking the bottle of champagne that was by the fireplace with me. I poured myself a glass and emptied it in one breath; I needed some liquid courage. I poured another, sat down in front of the mirror and got to work with my cosmetics. When I'd finished, my eyes were well defined, my complexion was perfect and my lips glistened with flesh-colored Chanel lipstick. I dried my hair, curling it slightly and pinned it up in a tall bun.

Domenico's voice came through the door. "Laura, dinner is waiting."

"Two more minutes, and I'll be ready," I shouted through the door while putting on my underwear. I quickly threw on the dress, slipped the high heels over my feet and generously applied some of my beloved perfume. I stood in front of the mirror and nodded with satisfaction. I looked simply divine; the see-through dress was stunning, and the red lace that showed through perfectly matched the red soles of my shoes. It was very elegant, and very provocative.

I quickly finished my third glass of champagne and, though slightly inebriated, was ready for dinner.

Domenico opened his eyes wide as he saw me leave the bathroom. "You look..." He paused, searching for the right word.1

"I know, and thank you," I replied, smiling flirtatiously.

"Those heels are to die for," he said, almost whispering, and gave me his arm. I took it and allowed him to lead me through the corridor. We went out onto the terrace where I'd had breakfast this morning, the canvas roof now reflecting the light of hundreds of candles placed neatly around the patio. Massimo stood with his back to us, staring off into the distance.

"I'll go on alone," I said, letting go of the young man's arm.

With that, Domenico disappeared, and I took a step toward Massimo. He looked back at the sound of my heels hitting the stone floor. He was dressed in gray linen pants and a light sweater of the same color, with the sleeves rolled up. He approached the table and set the glass he'd been holding in his hand down, watching every step I took as I came to him.

He leaned back on the table as I stopped in front of him, parting his legs slightly. I stood between them, keeping my eyes on him. The sexual tension between us was electric, and I would've been able to feel his desire for me even if I was blind.

"Do you like what you see?" I asked quietly, biting my lower lip. Massimo straightened himself to show me that, even in high heels, I was shorter than him.

"You are aware," he whispered, "that if you tempt me now, I won't be able to control myself?"

I rested my hand on his hard chest and gave him a gentle push, signalling that I wanted him to sit down. He didn't resist me, and slowly sat down in the chair. His eyes were curious and burning with passion - he examined my face, my dress, my shoes, and above all, the red lace that dominated my outfit. I stood close enough to him that the only scent he was able to focus on was my perfume. I tucked my right hand in his hair to gently pull his head down, and he gave in to me completely.

I brought my lips closer to his, and quietly asked, "Are you satisfied now?"

After a moment of silence, I let go of his hair, went to the cooler and poured myself a drink. Massimo was still sitting there, inspecting me with his eyes, his lips forming a smile. I sat down away from him, playing with the edge of my glass.

"Let's eat," I told him, giving him a bored look.

He stood up and came toward me, putting his hands on my shoulders. He bent down, took a deep breath and whispered, "You look wonderful." He brushed the edge of my ear with his tongue. "Never has a woman affected me the way that you do."

His teeth ran gently over my neck. A shiver coursed through my body, the beginning of which radiated from between my legs. "I want to throw you on this table, pull that short dress up and toss away those panties." I took a deep breath, feeling the excitement growing within me.

"I could smell your perfume from the doorway; I want to lick it off your entire body," he continued, then began to clench and move his hands rhythmically and firmly around my arms.1

"There's one place on my body that you can't touch yet," I said.

"And that's exactly where I want to be," he replied, ending his sensual argument with me. He started to gently kiss and bite my neck. I didn't object, turning my head to the side for better access. His hands slid slowly down my neckline and eventually came to my breasts, which he squeezed firmly. I let out a low moan.

"I know that you want me, Laura." I felt his hands and lips move away. "But remember, this is my game, and I set the rules."

He gave me one final kiss on the cheek, then sat in the chair next to me. He'd won and we both knew it, but that didn't change the fact that his pants were once again too tight for his body. I pretended to be unmoved by the situation, but that only seemed to amuse my companion. He sat there playing with his glass of champagne, a sly smile clearly visible on his face.

Domenico appeared in the doorway, looked at us then disappeared back into the house. A moment later, two men came out to serve us a starter of carpaccio and octopus, which were both delicious, and the next few courses only got better.

We ate in silence, giving each other quick, playful glances from time to time. As we finished, I moved my chair away from the table, poured another glass of pink wine and said, "Cosa nostra."

Massimo shot me a warning look.

"As far as I know, it doesn't exist - is that true?"

He sneered and asked in a low voice, "What else do you think you know, baby?"

I started to nervously turn the glass between my fingers. "Well, I'm sure everyone has seen The Godfather; I'm just wondering how much of that movie is true about you."

"About me?" He asked, surprised. "There's nothing in that movie about me, as far as I know."

I could tell he was making fun of me. He wouldn't answer my roundabout questions, so I asked him directly, "What exactly do you do?"

"I'm a businessman."

I didn't give up, pressing him again.

"Seriously? You expect a year-long declaration of obedience from me, but you don't think I should know what I'm signing up for?"

His expression turned serious, his eyes glaring at me. "You have every right to expect some answers, and I'll give them to you as much as I can; you deserve that much, at least." He took a sip of his wine. "After my father's death, I became the chosen head of the family, which is why people address me as 'don'. I own several companies - clubs, restaurants, hotels; think of our family like a corporation, and I'm the CEO. Our family is part of a larger overall group, though, but I won't get into that now. If you'd like the full history I can give it to you, but I think having such intimate knowledge would be unnecessary, and even dangerous."

He seemed to be growing increasingly more annoyed as he spoke. "To be honest, I'm not sure what it is, exactly, that you want to know. Are you asking if I have a consigliere? Well I do, and I'm sure you'll meet him soon enough. Are you asking if I'm a dangerous man, or if I solve my problems through violence? I'm sure those questions were answered for you last night. Now, is there anything else?"

There were a million thoughts running through my head, but nothing more that I needed to know then. The situation had been clear for some time, though I hadn't realized it. I guess my questions really were answered last night, like he said.

"When will you give me my phone and computer back?"

Massimo adjusted in his chair, throwing his leg onto his knee. "Whenever you want, baby. We'll just need to discuss what you'll say to the people you want to contact."

I drew a breath to say something, but he raised his hand to cut me off. "Before you even start, let me tell you how this will go. You'll call your parents, and if necessary, you'll fly back to Poland." My eyes lit up at those words, and the expression on my face turned to joy.

"You'll tell them that you received a very lucrative job offer at one of the hotels here in Sicily, and that you intend to take the offer. I'll make sure the contract includes a one-year probationary period, so you won't have to lie to your loved ones when you want to contact them.

"Your belongings were removed from Martin's apartment before he returned to Warsaw, and should be here on the island tomorrow. Consider the subject of this man now closed; I don't want you having anything to do with him anymore."

I looked at him questioningly.

"In case I wasn't clear the first time, let me say it again: I forbid you from contacting him," he said firmly. "Now, is there anything else?"

I was silent for a moment. He'd thought of every possibility; the story was well planned and made sense.

"And what if I need to visit my family?" I continued. "What then?"

Massimo frowned. "Well, then I guess I'll get to know your beautiful country."

I laughed and sipped my wine. I can already see the newspaper headlines - Head of Sicilian Mafia Appears in Warsaw, I thought to myself.

"Do I have a say in any of this?" I asked inquisitively.

"Unfortunately, this isn't up for discussion; this is how it's going to happen." He leaned toward me. "Laura, you're a smart girl. I would've thought by now that you would've realized one simple truth - I always get what I want."

"Not always, Don Massimo," I responded, dropping my eyes to look at the lace underwear that peeked out from under my dress. I bit my lip and slowly rose from the chair, with Massimo watching intently. I took off my wonderful red-soled heels and headed for the garden.

The grass was moist and the air tasted of sea salt. I knew that he wouldn't be able to resist the temptation to follow me for long, and after a few moments he gave in to that temptation. It was peaceful in the garden, with only the lights from the boats swaying in the distant sea to guide me. I stopped when I reached the square couch with canopy that I'd taken a nap on earlier in the day.

"You feel comfortable here, don't you?" Massimo asked, standing next to me, and he was right - I did feel comfortable here. This place didn't feel strange or new to me, and I felt like I'd lived here my entire life. Besides, what girl wouldn't like to stay in a beautiful Italian villa, with all of these comforts and services?

"I'm getting used to it because I have no other choice," I replied, taking another sip of wine. Massimo took the glass from my hand and threw it onto the grass. He took me in his arms and placed me gently on the white pillows. My breath sped up, knowing what was about to happen. He flipped one leg above me and lay on top of me, like this morning. I'd been afraid then, but now all I felt was curiosity and excitement; maybe the alcohol had finally caught up to me, or maybe I'd just accepted the situation I'd found myself in.

Massimo, with his hands on both sides of my head, leaned forward into me. "I'd like to kiss you," he whispered, nudging my lips.

I froze. A man so dangerous and powerful, asking for permission to show me tenderness and love? My hands went to his face and stopped on his cheeks. I held him for a moment, looking deeply into his calm, black eyes, then pulled him to me gently. When our lips met, Massimo attacked me with all of his strength, forcefully and greedily opening my mouth wider and wider, our tongues moving in one rhythm. His body fell over me, arms entangled around my shoulders. We both wanted each other, our lips and tongues massaging each other deeply and passionately.

Once the adrenaline had flowed away and I'd calmed down slightly, I realized what I was doing. "Wait, stop it," I said, pushing him away.

Massimo didn't intend on stopping, though. He grabbed my wrists firmly and pressed them against the white sofa, raising my hands above my head. He removed one hand and started caressing my thigh, following the curve of my body until he came across the lace panties. He grabbed them and took his mouth away from mine.

The pale light from the distant lighthouse illuminated my terrified face. I didn't fight him; there was no chance of winning. I lay there quietly, tears streaming down my cheeks. Upon seeing this, he let go of my hands, threw himself off me and sat down, resting his feet on wet grass.1

"You little..." he whispered heavily. "You know, when your whole life revolves around violence and you've had to fight for everything, it's difficult to react kindly when someone takes away something you desire."

He stood up and ran a hand through his hair while pacing, leaving me lying on my back. I was furious with Massimo, but at the same time, I felt sorry for him. He didn't strike me as one of those men who violently took women and tortured them; this kind of behavior was just natural to him, with a strong touch being as casual as a handshake. He'd also never cared about anyone before, and never needed to consider anyone else's emotions. Now that he wanted someone to reciprocate his feelings, the only way he knew to accomplish that was by force.

A vibration from his pants pulled us from the terrifying silence. Massimo took out his phone, looked at the screen, then answered. While he was talking, I wiped my tears away and stood up from the couch, slowly walking toward the house. I was tired, drunk and completely confused. It took me a minute, but eventually I arrived back at my room and passed out on the bed, completely exhausted.

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