Page 24

Jealousy.

T he sky is dark and so are the thoughts inside my head as I watch him lean over her, so close to her skin. The same skin I was kissing not long ago. Needles prick my face at the thought of him touching her and I have to hold myself back from barging in there and making him lick his own blood off the floor. He hands her an envelope as I suck in a breath of smoke. It’s my third one in fifteen minutes and as soon as this one’s finished, I’ll light another.

My entire world has been thrown into a pit of nothing. I thought I knew how my life would go. I thought I’d at least have something to hold onto, something that was mine. I’m not delusional, I knew in my heart no one could love me—the true me. How could anyone want someone whose own family didn’t want him?

But I thought at least one thing would be mine. Maybe, just maybe, I could hold onto Falcon’s Keep with the Della Torres and claim a small portion of that for myself. But as I stare at the raven-haired woman, curling her fingers around a knife, I know none of this could be mine because she is the only thing I am prepared to fight for.

She is the only one I want.

You wonder what it would be like, to live in someone else’s skin, to be them for a day, a week, a month. At times, I wanted to erase my entire existence from this world, to become someone else. To know what it might feel like to be loved and cared for by a mother.

Angrily, I swipe the lone tear from my cheek, the truth too harsh to admit to myself. I watch Frances leave, his men following closely behind him, leaving Nera alone.

Why would she pick me, when she has the most dangerous and powerful man asking for her hand? Why would she want a man who hates himself more than he hates the world?

Squashing the cigarette beneath my boot, I head toward the greenhouse, thinking about what I’m going to say to her and all that comes to my mind is that I love her.

Dammit, Nera, I love you so fucking much. Your tenacity, your pure heart and soul, everything from your sour attitude to your bratty little mouth. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same without you .

How can I say these words to her? I can’t.

My heart is yanked from my chest when I walk in to see her wiping tears from her face and my first instinct is to saw into Frances’s stomach to claw his intestines out and wrap them around his neck.

“Nera?” My voice is low as I kneel before her, softly placing her hand in mine.

She sobs, lifting her head to face me, her eyes now red from the countless tears she’s shed. The sight of her like this revives the soulless demon in me as I reach behind me and pull out my gun. I’m about to walk out when she stops me, her hand curling around my wrist as she stands before me.

“Don’t,” she warns, the laughter and light in her eyes now dimmed so low I can barely see it. My grip on the gun loosens and she takes it, placing it on the table.

“I have to kill him.” I try to explain, that I need to leave and kill the entire Lucchese family, but she won’t allow it.

“They’ll kill you before you even get the chance at a clear shot.”

She places her palm onto my chest and everything within me wants to take her away. Far from here, to a place where only she and I exist.

“I need you to kiss me,” she whispers, another stray tear trailing down her cheek and disappearing between her lips. “Please.” Her chin wobbles as I grip the base of her neck, pulling her mouth to mine.

She tastes like the dark ocean, chaotic, wild and free. Her hands roam my chest, then reach around my neck as she hoists herself into my arms.

“You said you didn’t want this.” I don’t know why I say it, because I want her—no, I need her.

“I know what I said.” She palms my cheek and stares into my soul. “Until the day comes when I’m no longer a Della Torre, I want to be yours.”

It’s different, the way she kisses me. Tender and passionate like she wants to savour the moment. Running my fingers through her midnight hair, I grasp it at the base as I knock over the table with my foot.

“You belong with me, Principessa. ” I walk her over to the glass and place her on her feet. Her hand slithers down between us to my cock, palming it. “Let me take care of you.”

She gives me a broken smile after undoing my pants and pulling my cock out of my briefs. “I can’t be saved, Raf.” She strokes me from base to tip, my cock growing in her hand until I’m fully erect, a painful reminder that she’s the only one who can make me feel this way.

“Make love to me,” she murmurs onto my lips, then removes her dress, her round breasts sitting perfectly in her bra. “I don’t want to die without experiencing what it’s like to be loved,” she sobs, covering her mouth.

I wrap my arms around her and pull her into me. “We’re going to be okay,” I whisper against the strands of her silky hair and plant a chaste kiss on her head. I don’t know how I’m going to keep that promise, but I will work it out. I don’t know everything that’s going on, but before the week is done, I will have answers. I don’t care if I have to cross the one person I have called a brother.

Lifting her chin, I taste the tears on her lips as I snake my hand around her to undo her bra, the strapless material falling to the ground. The soft glow of the moon casts its gentle light upon us, illuminating the rest of Falcon’s Keep as I gaze over her shoulder at the island—once my saviour from a dark past, now the very place that will seal my fate.

TWELVE YEARS EARLIER

They will all feel my pain. One way or another, I will make it happen. I don’t care whose head I have to bash in to get what I want, I’ll do it. The pain in my side is a constant reminder of the hurt and betrayal, and it’ll be the same for them. I’ll make certain of it.

The bandage around my waist is gone, but I still feel it there. Every fucking night, like a phantom. I had it on for a long time. It almost became a part of me. Now the only thing remaining is a thick, ugly scar on my skin, red and angry.

“You better not be exerting yourself,” Dante warns as his heavy footsteps sound on the stairs.

Pushing myself off the floor, I take a look in the mirror. I’ve lost some muscle mass. Given the long recovery period, I know it was expected, but I hate it. I feel weak, unable to take my revenge on the people who deserve it the most.

Sighing, Dante enters my room and plops himself on my bed. We’re almost the same age and after spending a few months with him on the island, he’s become my closest confidant.

“I know you’ve been through some shit, Raf, and I know you don’t want to talk about it to anyone, but I want to tell you that no matter what happens, I’ve got your back.”

We spent every minute of my recovery playing cards, and chess, and discussing the endless books Dante Senior tasked us to read. I can tell he means what he says because unlike me, he doesn’t lie. He’d much rather hurt your feelings than hide the truth and I admire him for it.

“Don’t tell me you spend a minute with your mother and sister and you’ve gone all sappy on me,” I jest, wiping the sweat from my forehead as he makes a face and extends his leg in an attempt to kick me.

“You know what I mean.”

I nod and throw on a shirt, covering the hideous scar as Nino and Santi appear at my door.

“ Papà is looking for you,” Santi says to Dante, throwing him a basketball, which looks to be as old as him. Santi is lean, as tall as me, and if he ate a proper meal, he’d probably be as big as me.

Dante raises his eyebrows and walks out as Santi makes his way to the corner of my room to look out the window. “Always fucking raining.” He sighs and takes a seat on the stool by my bookshelves. “So, what are you planning to do?”

“Are we coming with you?” Nino asks, his smile widening to his ears at the possibility of violence.

“No.” I cut it short because there isn’t a chance I’m taking innocents into a fucking war that I started. “You’re both staying here.”

“Oh, come on, man, you promised us!” Nino leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms, his long dark hair resting just above his shoulders.

“I didn’t promise shit.” I snatch my book out of Santi’s hands. “Your papà would kill me if I took you along.”

“He doesn’t have to know.” Santi smiles, pulling out a toothpick from his pocket and placing it in his mouth. “I have a good relationship with Giuseppe. I can make it happen.”

“No.”

Placing the book back on the shelf, I feel a twinge in my side and I wince, covering my scar with my hand.

“Fuck, is it not healed yet?” Nino asks from the doorframe as I take a seat on my bed.

The doctor who was seeing me on the island said it was the scar tissue, still healing.

“Guess not.”

“What was it like?” Santi asks, obviously wanting details on the event. “We never asked before because we thought it’d be too painful for you to share or talk about, but is he everything he’s revered to be?”

I don’t want to answer his question because Enzo is the biggest piece of shit I’ve ever met and to say that to their faces when I know their father still has a deal with him is the last thing I want to do. Dante Senior saved my life, and I owe him some self-restraint.

“I think I heard Dante calling for you both.”

Without lifting my gaze, I stand and lean against the dresser, their boots softly padding on the floor as they slip quietly from my room. I know Nino and Santi mean well. They want to get to know me on a personal level like I’ve begun to know Dante. I just don’t think they’ll like what they find.

Would anyone?

Would I ever meet someone who’d love me for me or am I destined to be alone?

Fated to fight alongside Dante as he marries to keep Falcon’s Keep afloat, just another brute muscled enforcer to keep him safe from harm.

The thought makes me shiver.

I’ve been alone most of my life, so it’s not like I know what I’m missing, but I can’t help wondering what it’d be like to be loved by someone so fearlessly that even in the darkest depths of the ocean, they’d choose you. Even after seeing the blackest parts of your soul, they’d still want you.

I stare at my reflection in the small mirror on the wall and make myself a promise that if I ever encounter a love like this, I’ll fight for it.

Until death.