Living with Temptation.

I ’m familiar with it. The way things go in our world. The push and pull of power, the thirst for revenge and the constant struggle to find your place in it all. Growing up, Papà didn’t really involve me, not because I was a girl, no. He loved that I wanted to know things. He fed my curiosity with stories of his past and told me if, one day, this was what I wanted, he would hand it to me instead of Dante.

This dinner is something I didn’t think I would experience, sitting at the same table with the Casella brothers, wondering if they’ll help us. I knew of them when Papà was alive. I just didn’t know I’d ever get a chance to meet them. Papà always said he was indebted to them and spoke highly of their father, Dominic Casella, whenever they were to come into conversation.

What happened at Falcon’s Keep since my father passed away?

What is the secret my brother keeps, even from me, until this day?

“That settles it then.” A shiver rolls down my spine as Ezra speaks, a sinister smile spreading across his face. “We give them a party.”

“One they’ll never forget,” Nicholas chimes in as Rafael steals a glance my way.

The entire night has been filled with stolen glances between us, and I’ve been shifting in my seat any time he catches me. I can’t make it too obvious either because Dante is right next to me.

“I’m stuffed.” Nicholas stands, and Darcy follows.

“Thank you, again, for being here. Your support of the Della Torre family will not go unnoticed,” Dante says, waving to one of the staff. “Julia will show you to your rooms.”

“If this revelry lives up to its name, I’ll be the first one here next time.” Jackson smirks, placing his napkin on the table and leaving the room.

Ezra’s silence is deafening as we remain seated, and I nervously run my fingers through my hair.

“Now that the others have left,” he picks up a knife, the warm light from the chandeliers shining off the blade, “is there something I should know?”

Dante stops fidgeting with the bulky rings on his fingers, his gaze skimming from Rafael, down to the table, then to Ezra.

“Nera, can you please give us a minute?” he asks, his familiar blue eyes pleading with me not to create a scene. If it were me and Dante, I would do exactly that, but Ezra’s presence is enough to scare the most powerful of men. It’s not like I won’t get my chance to find out. I didn’t come back here to follow orders from my brother as he so evidently believes.

I stand and when I make my way out of the room, the doors are shut right behind me, leaving me out in the open space of the foyer. If Dante thinks I’m still a child, he’s in for a rude awakening.

Making my way out of the manor, I head toward the greenhouse, the one place I can truly shut out the island. I’m halfway through the greenery when my heel digs into the soft, muddy sand and I wince in pain as the buckle of my shoe pinches my skin, my ankle twisting before I hit the ground.

Shit .

Taking my shoes off, I rub my ankle, the bruise already forming. When I get back up, I spot a dark figure in the distance and I cling onto my shoes, hanging them off my fingertips as I take a step forward.

“Hello?”

The trees sway with the sea breeze, carrying the salt into the air, and I begin stalking toward the person when they disappear behind a tree. I quicken my pace. No one hides from me at Falcon’s Keep. I am the don’s daughter and Dante’s sister. Surely, they know who I am. “It’s Nera,” I call out, hoping they will show themselves, but when I look around, I only see the trees, thin grass, sand and mud with the figure nowhere in sight. I swallow at the hollowness of the night and it feels like something is different here. The island isn’t what I remember it to be. Somehow, it’s darker, quieter, and a lot more eerie than before.

Who was that?

Glancing up the hill, I spot the greenhouse and push through the last part of the forest before finally entering and closing the door behind me. Everything stills, the smell of citrus and earth flooding my senses, bringing a smile to my face at the memories of gardening with my father.

This was my favourite place growing up. Papà always used to say the plants can feel what we feel and the way we treat them shows what type of person we are. He always tried to get Dante, Santi, and Nino in here too, but they all had other interests. Santi wanted nothing to do with us all. He would be happy to escape to the mainland and find some hole to sleep in rather than come back here. Many times, he’d go missing for months, and Papà would have to go after him with Dante. Nino was neither here nor there. He’d do the things asked of him by Papà even though most of the time, he didn’t want to. Like a good soldier.

Dante…well…he was always hard to read. As the eldest brother, I never got a chance to make a connection with him because his interests never aligned with mine due to our age difference.

I brush the leaves of the lemon tree with the pads of my fingers, the moisture still in the air from the heat of the day, when my mind flows back to last night and being crowded by Rafael’s strong, hard body. Taking a breath, I close my eyes, remembering the taste of smoke on his breath, the way his dark hair fell over his forehead, and the piercing void behind his eyes. I lick my lips at the thought of his rough hands on my face, gliding down to my neck and chest, and my breath hitches.

He’s older.

I shouldn’t want to know what his hands would feel like on me.

I shouldn’t want it, but the more I stay on this island, the more I want to open myself up to the side of me I try to escape, the part of me I wanted to leave behind when I started college. It was a dream to get a degree and separate myself from my family, but Falcon’s Keep calls out to me, it calls me home like a song you’ve listened to on repeat, a melody so deeply engrained in your soul that it evokes memories of a place you truly belong.

My mind returns to the excitement I felt as he surrounded me, the thrill that buzzed through me when his lips were just inches from mine, and I can’t stop my hand from grazing the hem of my dress. As my hand slips into my panties, I open my eyes, staring at the exact spot we were in the night before. Circling my clit slowly, I grip the edge of the stand, the deep timbre of his voice still fresh in my mind from dinner. I imagine what it would be like to have him murmur the dirtiest of words beneath my ear, his breath fanning my neck, as I slip a finger into myself and moan. I pause, suddenly feeling exposed by the entirely see-through glass walls, but a flush of heat coerces me to continue. I push another finger inside myself and prop my leg up onto the crate by the stand, imagining what his fingers would feel like inside me. I know they’d be bigger, thicker, and stronger, and the thought makes me push my fingers further as I grind my clit onto my palm and throw my head back. The strap of my dress falls and the cool night air floats across my chest, my nipples peaking as my breathing begins to get heavier. A thud on the thin glass startles me and I remove my hand to straighten myself up. Searching the outside through the glass, I see nothing but shadows and trees swaying in the wind. It could have been anything, an animal, a branch, but what if it wasn’t?

The door to the greenhouse creaks open and to my horror, Rafael walks in.

Did he see me from out there?

Straightening myself, I fidget with a leaf beside me as he walks down the long aisle.

“Better not make this a habit.” His nose rings glint in the dim light of the greenhouse and I swallow, nervously trying to come up with something to say.

“My habits are none of your concern.” Steeling my fingers beside me, I’m now aware of my wetness still coating them. Hiding them behind me, I hope he doesn’t notice the move as he steps closer to me.

“Hmm.” He rolls his tongue over his top teeth, his eyes lowering to the material covering my chest. My heart is beating so hard, I’m surprised he doesn’t notice the vibrations in the fabric.

“Tell me, how do you know about the Lucchese family?” he questions, his eyes now on mine.

I stop for a minute, taking in his spiced cologne, inhaling hints of sandalwood, musk, and jasmine. It makes me want to step in closer and take a deep breath of the pleasant fragrance.

“Frances Lucchese is often compared to legends at our campus back in America,” I explain, stealing a glance at the falcon tattoo on his chest, the buttons of his dress shirt now open. “Their family are elitists. I don’t know about Tommy, but Frances is dangerous. There was a rumour circulating at our college that he and his men murdered innocent students because they would not commit to their cause.”

Something changes behind his eyes, but I can’t tell what he is thinking, and when he speaks next, I know I must find out what has happened at Falcon’s Keep since I’ve been away.

“How would you define innocence?” he asks, the question flooring me.

“What?” I laugh nervously, unsure of the direction this conversation is taking.

Heat rushes between my legs as he takes a step closer, his hand delicately exposing the one behind my back and bringing it up to his face.

“Is it purity?” he asks, lifting my hand by my wrist under his nose, and closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath. “Is it a lack of sin?”

The deep steel of his eyes glares into mine, and for a second, I forget he’s my adoptive brother . I hold my breath, his full lips just inches from my fingers as my heart beats harder in my chest.

“Sins are like weighted chains,” I admit, moving one thigh over another as I desperately try to ignore the throbbing between my legs.

“Would you drown with them, or would you sever the chains binding you to something you might come to regret?” he asks, the desire evident in his tone.

“Would you?” I turn the question on him, knowing exactly what he’s asking. I caught him staring at me all night, not a care in the world as to who was watching him .

Dangerous.

Risky.

Scandalous.

Slowly, removing my wrist from his hand, I trace the cross necklace hanging from his neck. “Tell me what my brother is hiding,” I whisper, slipping my hand beneath his open shirt, the hard muscle mixing with his smooth skin underneath my touch.

In an amused huff, the muscles in his chest tighten as he moves closer, his hand coming up to clasp mine. “Which secret would you like me to start with, Principessa? ” He lifts his hand to my lips, his thumb brushing them as he stares down at me. “The one you’re desperately trying to hide between those pretty, long legs?” My thighs burn as I press them together, wishing for his torment to stop.

Leaning into me, his lips graze my lobe as he whispers, “Were you thinking about me?”

Swallowing, I close my eyes, fighting the urge to pull him closer, to feel his body on mine.

“It’s impolite to watch people having an intimate moment to themselves.” I fight to regain control through his compulsion, and I think I might make it through without faltering until his fingertips brush the side of my thigh, moving slowly up to the short hem of my dress.

“I can’t help myself when you walk around in this…this…piece of clothing that should not be called a dress.” He lowers his tone, something dark clouding behind his eyes as he levels his gaze with mine. “You shouldn’t be wandering out here alone.”

His hot breath fans my lips as his palm slowly glides up my thigh, his fingers hooking onto my G-string.

“It’s my home.” I defend my actions and ignore the pleading between my legs, unsatiated from tonight’s earlier actions. I place my hands on his chest and gently step away, refusing to lose myself to basic human pleasures. Not when I need to find out the truth about what happened here. I take a step toward the door of the greenhouse, stopping when he speaks.

“Falcon’s Keep isn’t what you remember, Nera.” Peering over my shoulder, I watch his dimly lit silhouette lean against the stand as he lifts a cigarette to his lips. “The waters are vexed, murky, and will not hesitate to lure you into its depths.”

“Consider me warned,” I say over my shoulder.

“If the siren’s call becomes unbearable, you know where to find me.”