AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’ve been worried about you,” she tells me, and her arms tighten around my neck until I’m afraid I’ll have to tell her to loosen up. I wouldn’t, though. Not when it feels so good.
“Have they taken care of you?” I whisper as I lay her across the silk duvet.
“Yes.” She clings to me, burying her face in my neck. “I even met your sister. She’s a sweetheart.”
“She is.”
“And she told me something.” I can’t see her face, and I don’t dare turn a lamp on in case somebody walks past and sees the light radiating from under the door. That doesn’t keep me from sensing the concern I’d find etched across her features. “She told me what you did. What you promised so long as your family cared for me.”
“I didn’t think she knew.” I wish she hadn’t said anything. That was for me to explain. Her naturally inquisitive nature, paired with the fact that she’s now eighteen and thinks she’s grown, have turned her into a handful.
“She knows a lot of things,” she whispers with laughter at the edge of her voice. She then wraps her arms around my shoulders and pulls me close, molding herself against me. “Why did you do that? You shouldn’t have done that for me.”
What a question. I stroke her hair and back, letting myself soak in the pleasure of being close while I try to find the words. I already wasted too much time pretending not to care. She deserves the truth now, no matter how I struggle with it. “Don’t you know by now I would do anything for you?” I murmur, my lips brushing against the top of her head. “I would even torture myself by staying away so long as I knew you were safe. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I’ve lied for you. I’ve disappointed my family and made things worse with our enemies. I’ve killed to keep you safe.”
Tipping her head back, I kiss her forehead. “I would do it all again, too, because nothing in the world matters half as much as you.”
“This is crazy,” she whispers with a shaky laugh.
“What is?”
“I would end up having a mobster fall for me, wouldn’t I?” Her fingers trail down my cheek in a gentle caress. “And I would go and fall for him.”
In the darkness, I hear the emotion in her hitching breaths, feel it in the way her chin trembles when I take hold of it so our mouths can meet in a kiss that starts off slow tentative, and all-consuming.
Not for long. Heat flares to life all at once, and I give myself over to it. Something inside me cries out in joy when her body melts against mine when she runs her hands over me the way I do to her. Knowing she wants this as much as I do is a rush like nothing I’ve ever known. I bite her bottom lip between our tongues colliding, and a sweet moan escapes her lips.
A sudden flash of light spills over the bed and startles us both into sitting up partway, squinting at the dark figure in the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt.”
Dante. I can only make out his silhouette, but I would know that snide voice anywhere.
He throws clothes onto the floor. “Get dressed,” he mutters, and I assume he means Emilia. “Meet us downstairs. My father’s study. Luca, you can show her the way.” He slams the door, plunging us into darkness once again.
“Oh, God, Luca.” All at once, she starts shaking hard enough to make the mattress vibrate. “My God, what are they going to do? What are we going to do?”
A darkness falls over me, settling into the very depths of my depraved soul, a gnawing in my gut driving me forward.
She is mine.
Nobody will harm her.
Not even my blood.
“Whatever it is, we’ll get through it,” I vow, and I mean it with everything I am.
21
EMILIA
Every crime scene photo I’ve ever studied flashes in front of my mind’s eye as Luca and I walk hand in hand down the wide marble staircase leading to the main floor of the family mansion. This could very well be the only time I have a chance to see something this magnificent. That’s the only word to describe it.
I wish I could appreciate the exquisite architecture, the towering ceilings, the breathtaking plasterwork, and the dramatic floor-to-ceiling windows. But all I can imagine is my blood spread across the wood-paneled walls and parquet floors of Rocco Santoro’s study once we step foot inside.
He sits behind a desk that’s about as long as a four-door sedan, settled back in a leather chair. Men I vaguely recognize stand to either side of the chair. The one on his right is Dante, Luca’s older brother. They share the same dark good looks, though Dante’s features are a bit sharper compared to Luca’s sensuous mouth and sultry eyes. Dante’s dark eyes practically burn with hatred as he glares across the room toward us.
The man to Rocco’s left looks like one of his nephews and soldiers. Francesco, I believe his name is. His black hair is thick and wild, growing past his ears and almost brushing his shoulders. From what I remember through my research, he’s a cold-blooded killer. His thin, chiseled face is as still as stone, giving away nothing. Is he supposed to be my assassin?
“Oh, Niccolo. Please join us.” Rocco shoots a dirty look at the man who enters the room after we have, who winces at Luca as he walks past us. The elder Santoro clicks his tongue. “You know, it amazes me you boys think anything goes on in this house without my knowing about it. Like I don’t have an alarm set on the tunnel doors.” I don’t know what that means, but Luca mutters a curse.
