Page 64 of No Darker Temptation

Dimitrio finally decides to join the rest of us. He sets the box down next to Dahlia who’s modeling her boots as Karina coos in admiration. “Feliz cumpleaños, Dahlia.”

She smiles and they share a brief peck on the cheek as she thanks him. Momentarily distracted by all the fanfare, Dahlia gets swept away by Lettie for more pictures and Dimitrio meets my gaze and flicks his chin, signaling toward the hall. We step outside undetected.

“I didn’t want anyone to hear us. But something happened.”

Immediately, my thoughts float to Joseph Coppola who’s supposed to be under supervision in the villa. Beni and Pedro are only here at Dahlia’s request otherwise I’d have not allowed them to leave their posts. She’s attached to the security detail and while I’d prefer it if she wasn’t, it can’t be helped. “Don’t tell me it’s Coppola⁠—”

“No,” he replies gently. “Beni had him moved to the rooms at El Rey while they’re visiting and our top men are watching him. He’s fine.”

I nod. “All right. Is it Sandro again?”

Dimitrio studies me a moment, onyx eyes darker than I remember. “Alejandro, I’m not sure how to say this so I’ll be blunt. Sandro got his hands on Manuel last night. He showed up at my doorstep in the same condition we left Salcedo at Sandro’s.”

The news knocks the wind out of me.

I take a step back, dragging a hand across my jaw. Manuel was one of our youngest recruits, only a year older than Lettie. His uncle was one of my father’s most trusted capos, and I had intended for him to have a slow but steady rise within the family operation. Perhaps even rise to the position his uncle once occupied before his retirement a few years ago.

Sandro could’ve easily taken a man of similar ranking to Salcedo—maybe Dimitrio or Beni who function as my righthand in lieu of Diego in certain aspects of the family business. However, Manuel was young and his relationship with us was personal because of who his uncle was to my dad. He knew this death would be different.

In this moment I can’t help but think of how Regina was right. It was a mistake to kill Salcedo; all it did was further provoke Sandro and all it took was a month for him to return the favor.

Dimitrio’s expression softens but only barely. He’s never been one to exhibit any weakness but I imagine finding his young protégé at his doorstep in such a condition must’ve hurt. “What do you need me to do?”

I can’t allow this to push me over the edge. An insatiable thirst for revenge will only serve to cripple me in the long run and what I need right now is to keep my head on straight.

“Where’s the body?”

“With Don Aldo. I figured⁠—”

“No, that’s good. I’m glad Don Aldo has him,” I say, referencing the mortician on the family payroll. “I’ll give him a call, I don’t want Manuel’s mother to see him like that.”

“I haven’t notified his family yet. But I can if you need me to.”

I shake my head. “No. It should come from me. I’ll call his uncle first and if Don Genaro needs me to tell everyone else then I will. Though, I imagine he’ll want to tell his sister and the others himself.”

Dimitrio’s jaw clenches before he sighs and nods. “Yes…I agree.”

Noise from the party captures our attention. We both look over and Karina is wearing a blindfold while being spun in a dozen circles by Diego. Lettie is micromanaging Pedro and Oscar as they hang up a picture of a donkey on the wall by the window. Dahlia laughs, so joyful and oblivious to what’s taking place a few feet away. Doña Ana smooths a hand over Dahlia’s hair before Dahlia catches her wrist and guides her onto the bench beside her, the two of them eating cake from the same plate.

One would think we were celebrating a ten-year-old but this was exactly what Dahlia wanted and now I understand why. It’s simple, wholesome, intimate. Something she probably needed after the last seven months she’s spent with me.

“Can you…? I need a moment…”

Dimitrio already knows without me having to say anything else. He walks past me into the dining room and I retreat to the sanctity of my study where I make one of the most difficult phone calls of my life.

Dahlia

Alejandro doesn’t come to bed until much later in the evening.

I’m half-asleep by the time the bed shifts under his weight. A heavy sigh escapes him and I’m tempted to ask what pulled him away from the party earlier this evening but know better than to do so. After what happened last month with Rico Salcedo, I don’t ever want to touch that area of his life again. Still, I’m not sure how I felt about him being only semi-present for the rest of the evening. It isn’t anger or sadness. Perhaps pity.

We were so happy until Dimitrio pulled him aside. Then he disappeared for a half hour and wasn’t the same when he came back.

He embraces me from behind, gently, so as not to wake me. I’m already up so I cover his hand with mine and snuggle close. He startles a bit. “You’re still awake?”

“All the sugar,” I lie easily. “A tranquilizer couldn’t put me down right now.”

He pushes my braid aside to kiss the side of my neck and we find each other in the sapphire darkness, his lips touching mine as my arms tighten around him, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. Each kiss is gentle, reverent, and I run my tongue along the seam of his mouth as he moves to hover above me, aligning our hips. I spread my legs for him and when he’s inside me every nerve ending in my body ignites in response.