Page 96 of Tainted Obsession 1

He nods.

“My parents wanted me to be educated. They thought that was how I would escapeLe Veleone day. That dream was never realistic, but they instilled the value of learning in me from ayoung age. Even after they died, I didn’t leave that part of my childhood behind.”

He absently tucks a stray lock of my hair behind my ear.

“Is that how you honor their memory?” I ask quietly. “By continuing to educate yourself?”

His lips press to a thin line, and he takes a moment to consider his answer.

“You give me too much credit,dolcezza.There was nothing noble about it. Even though my parents were naïve idealists, they were right about one thing: ignorance won’t get you very far in life. Gian and Enzo understand that too. When we met at the Camorra bar where we ended up living, we all agreed that we would get out ofLe Vele.We would use every weapon at our disposal. I was a scrawny kid, and a sharp wit served me better than my fists at the time. My friends and I survived because we were smarter than the other boys. We read everything we could get our hands on.”

“What kind of books did you read?” I ask. “Was there a library or something in your neighborhood?”

He snorts his derision. “No, there wasn’t a library. We couldn’t afford physical books. My shitty old phone was filled with e-books I scoured from the internet. At first, I read up on fighting techniques, then military strategy. But on sleepless nights, I found escape in fiction.”

He says it like there were many sleepless nights.

Was he haunted by nightmares of his parents’ murders all throughout his violent childhood?

My heart aches for him, and I tenderly caress his cheek. He leans into my gentle touch, as though he can’t help himself.

“What do you like to read now?” I press.

“Before I came to Mexico City to make this deal with Duarte, I was reading a biography about the emperor Hadrian.”

“Do you have it with you?”

His brow furrows in confusion. “I have the e-book on my phone. Why?”

“Will you read it to me?”

My eyelids are heavy again, and I’m becoming more aware of the dull ache in my side.

“It’s in Italian,” he replies.

“I don’t mind.” I sigh, leaning into him. “I just want to hear your voice.”

He drops a kiss on my forehead. “Anything for you,farfallina.”

I close my eyes and allow his steady stream of rumbling Italian to roll over me, the cadence lilting and almost melodic. Despite the dark circumstances that brought me here, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

“Can we watch something in Italian with English subtitles?” I ask when Massimo turns on the massive TV across from the bed.

“You don’t have to do that for me,” he replies. “I’m fully fluent in English.”

“I know.” His English is impeccable. “But I want to learn Italian. I’m good with languages, and I can start picking it up if we put on the subtitles.”

His eyes shine as they study my face. “You want to learn Italian?”

I smile at him. “Yes. If I’m going to Italy with you, I need to speak the language.”

His expression shutters.

“I’ve been thinking about this.” The solemn heaviness in his tone makes my stomach drop. “You were shot because I keptyou here with the cartel. I didn’t keep you safe. You were hurt because of your association with me.”

My heart twists, and I grasp his hand in a desperate grip. His words are laced with guilt and something I don’t want to acknowledge. It sounds like a prelude to goodbye.

But I committed myself to staying with him before the firefight broke out in Stefano’s club. And now that he’s cared for me so tenderly in my recovery, I’m more attached to him than ever.