Page 132 of Niccolo (Mafia Kings #7)

“Come – there’s something else I want to show you,” Niccolo said. “A work of art 200 years after the Cardinal’s death.”

He led me to another room, one dominated by a marble sculpture of a half-naked woman reclining on a divan. The front of her lower body was concealed by a beautifully carved marble ‘cloth.’

“This masterpiece was created much later than the others we’ve seen.

In the early 19 th century, Camillo Borghese, a distant relative of our scoundrel the Cardinal, married the sister of Napoleon Bonaparte – yes, that Napoleon.

As a gift to his bride, he commissioned this statue depicting her as Venus, the goddess of love.

“Once finished, Camillo kept the statue in a pitch-black room. When he showed it to guests, he would take them in, one by one, carrying a single candle to light the way.

“The guests were often shocked because they thought they were actually looking at a naked woman, the statue was so lifelike.

In addition, the marble was waxed so that it mimicked the sheen of skin in candlelight, adding to the illusion.

The statue caused quite a scandal amongst the aristocrats of Rome lucky enough to see it.

“Pauline Bonaparte was delighted with the statue – at first. She was an independent young woman who enjoyed flaunting Roman society’s stuffy notions of decorum. But when her marriage to Camillo soured and they separated, it is said that she asked him to stop showing the statue – to anyone.

“Out of his love for her, he complied. The statue was moved to another estate Camillo owned, far from Rome. It was never shown to anyone again until a decade after Pauline’s death.”

I stared at the statue, which was truly beautiful. I imagined her in a dark room, with only a candle to light her face, her bare shoulders, and her naked breasts. I could understand why others had thought she might be alive.

But as impressive as all the artworks had been, I was at a loss for why Niccolo had brought me here.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He looked at me. “What do you mean?”

“Why did you call me here on the eve of the Council? To distract me? To give me an art lesson? To try to seduce me again?”

He grinned. “Why can’t it be all three?”

That annoyed me. “Thank you for the tour, but I’m leaving now.”

I turned to go –

But his hand clamped down on my wrist.

“Stop!” I hissed as I jerked away from him.

“Wait – please,” he begged. “Just… wait.”

The tenderness in his voice surprised me –

Enough that I stayed to see what he would say.

“This is one of my favorite places, and I wanted to show it to you… but also to explain myself to you.

“Like Cardinal Borghese, I, too, am a scoundrel… and I lust for something I want more than anything else in the world. For him, it was art. For me… it’s you.”

My cheeks blushed hot to hear his words.

“I would carry you away with me if I could,” he said passionately, “like Hades and Persephone – but I want you to come willingly.

“Like Caravaggio, who painted a woman crushing the head of Satan, I know how powerful you are. I know how magnificent you are, even if other men completely underestimate you because you’re a woman.

“And like Camillo Borghese, I would do almost anything to keep you… but if you want to leave, then I will abide by your wishes. But I brought you here to make one last appeal.

“Like Caravaggio begging for forgiveness, I ask you to pardon me. I absolutely did try to manipulate you that night in Taormina. I tried to make you feel guilty for things that aren’t any worse than what I’ve done.

“I got lost in the game; all that mattered at that moment was winning… until I lost you. And once I lost you, I discovered what truly mattered to me the most.”

I sighed angrily. “This is no different. You still want to win. Bringing me here, showing me all these beautiful things, telling me these stories, apologizing – you’re still trying to manipulate me.”

“Yes and no. I am trying to manipulate you to leave Fausto and come with me – but not because I want or need to win. It’s because I want and need you.”

I shook my head, but before I could speak, he interrupted me.

“I’m going to try something I’ve never done before – not with a woman, at least. Maybe with my brothers Dario and Roberto, but no one else.”

“What,” I asked in a deadpan voice.

“I’m going to be completely and totally honest with you. Totally open… totally vulnerable.”

I stood there, waiting –

And as he looked deep into my eyes, he whispered, “I love you.”

I flinched.

I hadn’t expected him to say that –

And I certainly hadn’t expected him to mean it.

I could tell from his eyes that his words were sincere.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he continued softly. “You don’t even have to feel the same. It’s enough for you to know how I feel.

“I’m not only in love with you – passionately, completely in love – but I love you.

“I care for you deeply.

“I want the best for you. Your safety… your happiness…

“And for that reason, and that reason alone –

“NOT to win, but because I love you –

“I’m begging you to come with me.

“Leave Fausto. Come be with me.

“Like Caravaggio, I want to come home… to you.

“But like Camillo, I will abide by whatever answer you give me.

“Just know I’m asking because I love you, and I want you… and for no other reason.”

I shook my head in desperation –

Because part of me wanted to say, I love you, too.

But I couldn’t.

He could be manipulating me again –

He could be twisting my emotions like putty.

“Just more words,” was all I could say.

He reached out and took my hands as he gazed tenderly into my eyes. “No… they’re not. And you know it. Tomorrow, we have to meet as enemies. I am begging you, don’t let it come to that. Please… leave Fausto and come with me.”

I desperately wanted to believe him –

But every man I’d ever dealt with had betrayed me.

And even if betrayal was what Fausto intended, too, I knew I could outsmart him.

I could wring 20 million euros out of him – enough money to be free of any man’s control for the rest of my life.

Free to do what I wanted, maybe for the first time ever.

“…I can’t,” I whispered, though it hurt to say it.

Niccolo gave me a sad, pained smile…

But then he moved closer to me.

I wasn’t afraid of what he would do – there were two dozen other people in the room with us, and he wouldn’t risk violence out here in the open –

But I was afraid of how my body responded to his touch…

How my heart longed to hear more of his words.

He put his hands softly on my face.

An almost erotic electricity danced between his skin and mine.

His body pressed against me, and all I could feel was longing.

He leaned down to my ear and whispered, “Then please… just give me one more night. Can you do that?”

I knew I shouldn’t –

I knew I should say no –

But I wanted it too much.

“…yes…” I breathed…

And then he kissed me.