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The night I met Gio, a seed was planted inside me. Now a dark flower is blooming out of control, and I’m powerless to stop its thirst for more. Even as I stand here, I crave him. I want him to return and give me anything. Love. Affection. Punishment. It’s all started to blur.
But how can I feel so strongly for a man who will never be mine? He’s said it himself—he doesn’t fall in love. He doesn’t do relationships and happy endings. I’m the woman he intended to purchase for the night, and nothing more. When the situation got fucked up, he showed a little mercy and kept me for a few weeks. How have I deluded myself into thinking he cares about me?
I know how. Each warm touch and every passionate kiss. The stolen smiles and hard-earned laughter. The small moments where, even if brief, things between us feel real. Just like we’re any other couple. I haven’t imagined these things; they’re as real as my flesh and bones.
A wistful sigh escapes my lungs. If he’d come back, we can talk it out.
IncludingEnzo.
The thought of him makes me cringe. I didn’t even know Enzo was out of jail much less involved with Lovato’s crew. When we were together, he hadn’t shared details about his street dealings. I hadn’t asked, using the logic, if I didn’t know, I couldn’t lie or snitch to the cops. It protected us both, but his reappearance tonight raises too many questions.
“There’s a war brewing, Fal. You shouldn’t have gotten caught up in this. You’ll end up a casualty.”
“Are you talking about between the Sorrentinos and Lovatos?”
My question was cut off by the pop and crackle eruption of gunfire. I screamed and he grabbed hold of me, hauling me down the empty corridor.
“Lovato’s sending a message to your boyfriend. I’m supposed to be with the other two getting the job done, but I couldn’t let you be in harm’s way.”
“Gio’s in danger? Let go of me!”
“What’s the matter with you? Who’s the guy you really love—me or some Mafia bigshot?”
I shake my head and walk away from the window. I need a soak in the tub. The fresh lavender and frothy bubbles will relax me, rid my body of the pinched nerves. Then maybe I can clear my head and even get some sleep.
There’s no telling when Gio will be back. Knowing him, he’ll be gone ’til dawn. He’s not big on sleep, and a lot of shit popped off tonight. He probably has his hands full.
As the bathtub fills with soap and water, I dim the lights and put on chill music from one of the apps on the TV. I’m skimming my fingertips across the water, testing the temperature, when the penthouse door sounds.
Just when I thought Gio would stay gone for hours, he’s back. His footsteps pad down the living area and through the bedroom. He appears in the bathroom doorway a second later. His face is hard to decipher—his classically handsome features blank. The vibe he gives off is nothing like before, though, no trace of menace to be felt anywhere.
Neither of us says anything for a long, drawn-out moment. Then, as I turn away and continue prep for my bath, he speaks.
“Let me.”
I look up in confusion. He strolls into the bathroom, assuming command of my bath prep. He fills the tub with more liquid bubble bath and lights a few candles. He turns to me, the blue in his eyes as vibrant and electric as the first night in the club.
“Are you all right?” he asks, sliding a hand along the side of my neck. It travels upward, his warm palm cupping my cheek.
For the first time since our romp in his office, Gio gets a good look at my face. It’s bare, washed clean of any makeup. His brow wrinkles. He brings his thumb to my mouth, running it along my lower lip. He stops at the corner, where my small cut from Enzo’s hit is. I flinch and turn my head away.
“What is that, Falynn?” he asks in a testy tone.
“What’s what?” I stick my hand in the bathtub filled with frothy water to test it again. “It’s hot enough I think—”
“The cut on your lip. Where did it come from?”
“Oh. That. I accidentally bit my lip earlier.”
I swallow and force myself to meet his gaze. I’m not the best liar. I can’t even stop blinking, for Christ’s sake, but I stand there in my robe, hoping he doesn’t continue this game of 21 Questions. He’s doubted my loyalty enough for one night.
“You bit your lip,” he repeats slowly. Suspicion drips from his smooth, deep tone. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yes…” My insides quake as much as I do on the outside. I turn my back to him and disrobe. The satiny fabric falls to my bare feet and I carefully step into the tub. “I’m exhausted, Gio. Can we not fight for now?”
He stares at me for an unnervingly long moment—so long it’s obvious he doesn’t buy my lie. But instead of interrogating me further, he seems to agree. We’ve fought enough for tonight. He moves closer and sits on the ledge of the garden tub.
“Just relax,” he tells me. Any hardness about him is gone. He picks up a loofah and dips it into the soapy water before wringing it out and sliding it down my bare back. “It’s been a long night.”
