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She drops her hand from my cheek. “You know why.”
I squeeze her nape. “Why?”
Rebellion sparks in her brilliant eyes. “You told me not to say it.”
“Unless you come.”
“That night, I made myself an oath.” She meets my gaze squarely, even at the disadvantage of her height. “And I won’t break it.”
Fuck. That cuts into me like glass shards and steel knives. I can’t say I don’t deserve it. I’ve been a prick. I’ve just been so fucking angry, so self-consumed.
“Say it.” I have to try. “Forget about what I said then. Say it now.”
She gives a sad little shake of her head. “A promise is a promise, Mr. Russo. I can’t go back on my word. Not to myself.”
I exhale through my nose as I deal with that blow. I can’t say I didn’t bring that one on myself either.
Securing her with my hand around the back of her neck, I pull her closer until the length of her body is pressed against mine. I inhale the smell of the cherry blossom shampoo in her hair, and suddenly, I miss the salt of the sea on her skin and the look on her face when she comes out of the water. Happy. Carefree. And I realize with a start I only saw her like that once. On the day I met her.
“What will it take for you to believe me?” she asks, her expression empty. Devoid of hope.
It guts me that it’s me who put that look on her face.
I want to believe her so damn much. She has no idea. Under the numbing influence of the alcohol, I’m honest enough with myself to admit that what stalls me in killing Lavigne isn’t the kids or the war Marziale started. No. Those are mere excuses. What’s stalling me is the fear of finally facing the truth. To have proof beyond a doubt of what Sabella is planning. But I can’t live in fear and denial forever. I can’t carry on like this. I’m at the end of my tether.
The time has come to reel Lavigne in.
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Order Kisses Like Rain (Book Four)
What to read while you wait
Diamonds in the Dust (Diamonds are Forever, Book One)
A Diamond Magnate Trilogy
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“She’s like a pretty wildflower pushing through the cracks on a dirty pavement. I'll make her mine, even if how I do it will make flowers wilt.”
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The deeds I do will give most people nightmares. The sights I see will haunt their dreams. If you keep on doing and looking for long enough, your feelings eventually turn to stone. Or maybe I was born that way. Unfeeling.
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That’s the price of power and money, of living la belle vie and running the French mafia. Then she came along like a pretty wildflower pushing through the cracks on a dirty pavement—fragile yet resilient, a breath of beauty among the filth. She was supposed to be just another nameless person I was to pluck from her life and hand to my brother, nothing but a pawn in the gamble of our diamond business. But everything changed the minute I slammed my hand over her mouth and lifted her off her feet. From the moment I pinned her against my body, I wanted her.
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There’s a psychological label for men who don’t have empathy or guilt. Psychopath. Here’s the thing about not possessing a conscience… I’ll do whatever it takes to have what I want, even if my methods will make flowers wilt.
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Excerpt from Diamonds in the Dust
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