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She blinked as our eyes met again. She licked her lips.
“For what?”
I raised my chin, letting go of some of my pride in the process, but knowing that a show of strength would let her know I meant what I was about to say.
“For everything.”
“Everything?” she questioned with a bit of sadness in her eyes.
“No, actually. Not everything.”
I clasped her fingers across the table and held her chocolate brown gaze. “I’m not sorry we met. It might sound heartless and cruel, but I’m not one damn bit sorry that I tracked you down at The Beast that night. I’m not sorry that I agreed to your disappearing act. I’m even less sorry that I got to spend what I thought at the time was the best fucking night of my life with you. I’m not sorry that our paths have crossed, and that this is the result.”
Her eyes narrowed, but her voice softened. “Then what exactly are you sorry for?”
“Everything you said. That we aren’t the people who met online and can date casually by going to coffee shops and wine bars. That other people and their actions have dictated how we treat each other. That we have secrets we can’t share.”
Her eyes fell, and I knew she heard my truth. I waited for her response.
“Maybe...maybe we can get past...everything?”
“Our regrets don’t matter, Princess. We can’t change the past.” Was this the night I disappointed her? Did I break her now, or later, when our prolonged relationship meant I was in over my head and over my heart?
“We can’t change it, but we can leave it there, can’t we? Why does our past mean we can’t have a future?”
I didn’t have a fucking clue why. Why couldn’t I let it go? Why did I need revenge against a dead man when I was falling hard for his very alive daughter?
Why did I still see his eyes when I looked into hers?
Because she had no idea. She lost her father, too, but she didn’t lose him at my hands. How the fuck do you fall for the daughter of the man who tore your family apart? How do you look your mother in the eye as you introduce her to the woman who means more to you thanshedoes? My mother didn’t know that Alessandro Calegari was responsible for her husband’s death, butIknew.
And soon, Lilly would, too, because I couldn’t live like this anymore. We were meant to be together or apart. I could steal, lie, manipulate, and murder, but I couldn’t spend a lifetime with her as my captive.
She wasn’t a tool or a pawn. She was a vibrant, sensual, living, breathing woman who deserved better than anything I could ever give her.
She deserved to be able to decide for herself. I could give her what her family never could: her independence. I could give her what she already owned - the right to have all the facts and decide how she wanted to live her life based on the truth.
“I’ll answer that question, Lilly, and afterwards, you can decide if you want to spend time with me tonight, let alone at any point in the future.”
Her eyes narrowed again. “I don’t understand.”
“I know.” I sighed. “Let’s eat. When we’re done, I have a story to tell you.”
Whether she was hungry from her exertion or she was impatient to hear my tale, I had no idea, but Lilly ate her dinner without any further conversation between us. When we were done, and the men I paid well for their silence and other small things came and cleared our plates, I stroked my goatee, trying to decide how to continue the conversation.
With her hunger satisfied, Lilly focused her attention on me. “Is the truth that difficult?”
“Pardon me?”
She tilted her head in my direction. “You’re stroking your goatee. It’s what you always do when you have a decision to make. It makes me think you’re not embracing your openness as much as you thought you were.”
“Then you’re wrong. There’s time for that.” I wanted her close to me. I wanted to hold her one more time before she decided she never wanted to lay eyes on me again. Her pathetic attempts to escape were about to become earnest.
I needed more time.
“Dance with me.”
She half-smiled. “There’s no music.”
