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“Vincent—”

“Go back to where you came from, Selene, before I’m reminded that honor demands I offer up your head for your betrayal,” he snarls back, leaving me cold and bereft with his parting statement.

I’m unable to move, trying hard to compose myself after such a confrontation. I deserve his wrath. I deserve his judgment. I even deserve his hate. Still, having it all thrown at me at full force, it’s as if I’m being strangled by death itself.

My shaky knees wobble as I take the first steps toward my mother’s grave, eager to unburden all my woes and secrets to her eternally prone ears. I freeze in place when my eyes land on the gift Vincent left for my beloved mother. A familiar white rose lies on her granite tombstone—one I have become accustomed to finding on each of my visits.

However, a new flower lies next to its snow-colored companion. Entwined like two lovers in a passionate embrace, the pair of roses look delicately out of place in these forlorn surroundings, yet completely in their element while at each other’s side.

I trace each petal with my finger, unable to prevent the hope that springs to the surface.

Maybe my lost boy isn’t as lost as I think him to be.

Maybe he’s trying to find his way, just as I am.

I kiss each rose gently—first the white, and then the red.

I close my eyes and let out a small prayer for us to find each other; if not in this life, then in the next. Just as these two roses are only complete when in each other’s arms, I fear the same applies to Vincent and me.

Either by fire or ice, our love will always burn. Not even death can change that.

Fourteen

Giovanni

I stroke Selene’s naked back with my fingers, relishing her soft, creamy skin at my tips. It’s an addiction I’ve acquired throughout the nights I’ve been welcomed into her bed. But tonight, my hunger is satiated enough, allowing loose the ramblings locked in the dark corners of my mind—a place where only unanswered questions rule. With myprincipessaon her stomach and me on my side, our eyes are locked together, bound by longing and love, just as they have always been.

“I wonder what your husband would think if he knew I was lying naked beside you. Do you think he would be pissed about the many ways I intend to take his wife tonight?” I declare gently, keeping up with my loving caress.

“Gio…” she begins to interject, but I place a tender kiss on her lips, stopping any of her excuses.

“I’m serious, Selene. Would he be angry that I’m helping him get out of jail even though I wish he’d stay there so I could keep you here with me?”

“James isn’t like that,” she responds, breaking our eye contact by lowering her gaze to my chest.

I grab her chin lightly and return her deep-green, meadow eyes back to mine.

“Oh, no? What kind of a man is he then?”

“A man who only wants me to be happy,” she confesses somberly.

“So a man after my own heart, you mean?” I taunt, gaining a meek smile from the woman who broke mine.

“I think you’d like him,” she counters.

“I think I’d hate him. Actually, I know I do.”

Her small grin falters, and she shifts away from me, giving me her full back and her perfect peach ass that delights me even further.

“He’s a good man, Giovanni. One of the best I have ever met,” she snipes. With each praise she spouts, I hate the bastard even more.

“Really? The best, you say? So he’d be cool with you fucking other men as long as it brought a smile to your face?” I rebuke, the words tinged with resentment. I’m met with nothing but silence from mybella, confirming my suspicions, so I retort, “Exactly what I thought. Not every man is willing to share such a prize.”

Selene turns to face me once more, and this time I know I’ve pissed off the prim-and-properprincipessa. Her acrimonious stare says it all.

“Is that how you see me? A prize?” she spits out, disgusted with the word.

My head slumps further into the pillow, sadness overpowering my every emotion, weakened by the woman before me.