Page 15

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

ADALYN

“ O h, for the love of all that’s Holy!” I screeched, clutching my towel closer to my chest.

It had been just over a week since the discussion in Marco’s office and I had yet to return to work. The mansion still hadn’t got back some semblance of normality with papers, plans, and meatheads scattered across the marble in every direction.

I had once again found myself languishing my time and distracting myself with trivialities to get through the day. House arrest was not just annoying but downright depressing.

Nevertheless, it still didn’t explain Marco’s sudden presence in my bathroom.

He looked about the room as if he had never even seen this part of the mansion before and part of me wondered if he ever had.

I spun away from the mirror, narrowing my gaze on him. I didn’t miss how his irises darkened or how his eyes trailed down to my black painted toenails before bouncing back up. Just like how I didn’t miss that his suit trousers clung perfectly below his waist or how his white shirt did little to hide the extensive tattoo’s that laid underneath.

“What the hell is your problem? Weren’t you ever taught to knock?” I huffed, feeling very naked and all kinds of tingles that my mental bat was not doing a good job at smacking away.

His eyes were cold as they met mine. “You have two hours before guests start arriving.”

“What guests?” I spluttered.

“Today has been cause for celebration.” When my blank expression didn’t change, he continued, “Pretty Penny Loans has been dealt with,” He said smoothly.

My shock must have registered on my face.

Only a week had elapsed since I’d told them about the vault, and now I was finding out they had already carried out an attack. The amount of power the La Torre’s—Marco—possessed was sobering.

I swallowed heavily as I thought of the people that worked there and the deal I had made for him to spare them.

“The staff, did you kill them?” I demanded, blood draining from my face, part of me too afraid to hear the answer.

He appeared irked at my obvious concern and remained silent as he observed my reaction.

Overcome with the desperate need to know the truth and whether I had been the executioner of innocents, I rushed over to him and gripped his shirt between my hands.

“Please tell me you didn’t. Please tell me you are not like my father. Please ,” I begged. Some of my carefully locked away emotions clawed their way back to the surface in my desperation, making my voice waver, something inside me threatening to snap.

I could see the hint of a scowl forming between his brows. “I told you I wouldn’t, didn’t I?” His voice was firm.

It rung with truth.

A weight I didn’t realize I had been holding lifted from my shoulders and I sagged against his chest in relief. My forehead resting against the soft material of his shirt while his familiar spicy cologne enveloped me like a comforting embrace.

Before I could move myself away or rationality could rush back in, a heavy set of arms wound around my waist. He pulled me into the hard plains of his chest, and I felt Marco’s lightly stubbled chin come to rest against my head.

“Guess that means you’re coming with me to Sicily.” He observed quietly, an edge of humor creeping into his voice.

My voice was muffled. “Thank you.”

“Tell me you were wrong about me. That I’m not the monster you thought I was.” His voice was rough, smoldering with an intensity I couldn’t place.

I pulled away and stared up into his familiar eyes, seeing a storm hidden beneath their surface.

“I was wrong. You are not the monster I thought you were.”

With that statement hanging in the air I realized my feelings toward the man had inevitably resurfaced, impossible to fight off.

I was drawn to him.

The power, the control, and the fact he let me push buttons no one else alive was allowed to press, had culminated into an attraction that burrowed beneath my skin and crawled unrelentingly in my veins.

The fact that I was still alive was testament to the fact that he was different, and despite everything, he had listened to me when I’d asked him to spare the lives of people I had once known. That was something that no other man in his position would have done. No other Don would have cared for the wishes of a traitor’s daughter.

The feelings I had desperately tried to lock away in favor of self-preservation, were now escaping the cage I had so artlessly created. The irresistible pull I felt toward Marco weakened any remaining threads of self-restraint I had left, and it was only a matter of time before the cage would give way completely.

It didn’t matter what this man wanted from me anymore or what the damage would be to my soul—it was inevitable I would give myself to him.

Just as the mafioso becomes compelled by the irresistible pull of the trigger—it was too late for me to find another way.

To say I was being glared at by seventy percent of the guests in attendance would have been an understatement.

The La Torre family were unmistakable amongst the swathing crowd gathered in the grand entrance hall, leaking out toward the terrace. All of them had raven colored hair and similarly darkened irises. All were beautiful, handsome, or at the very least attractive . I felt horribly out of place surrounded by such glamorous and wealthy people. Though that was hardly surprising given the steady stream of disdainful glances I was getting.

It made the Mannino family gatherings look like child’s play. Like uncivilized desperation and new-money ignorance. I couldn’t help but feel stupid. I had no idea what true wealth really looked like until I came here.

I stood awkwardly off the side of the main hall which was alight with chatter and the occasional raucous laugh. Jesse stood with me chatting animatedly to someone I assumed to be either his good friend or distant relative—Enzo. He didn’t look like a La Torre in his appearance, but something about the way he held himself made me certain there was some distant association in his family tree.

The apple never did fall far amongst the Cosa Nostra, after all.

Enzo was a handsome man of a similar age to me but was smaller than the usual six foot La Torre clan. Having said that, he didn’t miss it by much. Unlike a lot of the other men in the room, Enzo wasn’t wearing a plain black or white collar shirt but a bright green floral one. Though it seemed like a testament to his light-hearted character as opposed to a keen sense of style.

My awkwardness morphed into irritation the moment one particular bimbo walked her way through the ornate double doors.

Lexi was once again wearing an overly small bit of fabric I would liken only to a nightdress. The pink material barely restrained her fake boobs and left little—more like absolutely nothing —to the imagination.

It was in stark contrast to the sophisticated black satin maxi dress I had selected for the night.

“Excuse me a moment.” Jesse said, interrupting his conversation with Enzo and heading into the crowd in Lexi’s general direction.

“Uh oh. I see trouble on the horizon.” Enzo joked, filling the space Jesse had left by my side.

I made a noise in agreement, distracted by watching Jesse talk to Lexi. She was pouting at something he had said, and all his earlier joking had frozen into ice in her presence. There’s no love lost there, I realized.

“The Boss isn’t going to be happy about her being here.” Enzo observed, bringing his beer bottle to his lips and taking a sip.

As if on cue, Marco appeared from one of the double doors to the side of the room, leading out onto the back terrace. He did a quick scan of the sea of faces and for a second his eyes fell on where Jesse and Lexi were standing. His expression darkened infinitesimally, but his gaze didn’t linger there long. Flicking to me only a moment later as if he could feel me watching him.

Our eyes locked and the rest of the room seemed to fall away, muted by his mere presence for a moment. I almost didn’t notice the woman approaching him until her neon pink nails had wrapped their way around his neck.

Jealousy and contempt swirled in my chest, but it quickly morphed into smug satisfaction as Marco extricated himself from the woman and shot her a look that was sharper than freshly cut steel. Her expression soured with his rejection, and I fought the urge to smile.

“Seems like he isn’t the only one whose unhappy Lexi is around.” Enzo observed beside me, giving me a knowing look.

There was something oddly familiar about that look. “How do you know Jesse?” I questioned, certain there was a family connection somewhere between the two men.

“He’s my brother.” Enzo smiled sheepishly.

“Half-brother,” Jesse tagged on, re-joining the conversation. “On our father’s side.”

I nodded, now understanding why Enzo seemed so familiar to me. It wasn’t that he looked like Jesse, in fact in facial appearances, the men were not the slightest bit alike. It was in their mannerisms. Their light-heartedness and easy-going temperament were what marked them as family.

“What happened with Lexi?” I asked Jesse.

I had lost sight of her and Marco amongst the swathe of people.

“Sent home, Bandit. Boss doesn’t want her here and no one else does either.” He took a beer from one of the waiters’ trays as they flittered past.

The men had begun talking again for a few minutes when I spotted Marco amongst the crowd. This time he was talking to a balding man with a pot belly. A fabulously attractive girl stood off to his side, stroking the older man’s shoulders while simultaneously shooting flirty glances at the Don he was speaking too. My lips pursed in irritation.

I didn’t know why it was bothering me, but seeing numerous women fawn over Marco reminded me of exactly why I had decided to cage my feelings away in the first place. Not that it very much mattered now. Hadn’t I decided I wasn’t strong enough to resist him any longer? Fool .

“Bandit?” Enzo asked, bringing my attention back to the two men I was standing with.

Jesse laughed around his drink. “This one,” he said, pointing to me. “She’s the Bandit. Nearly cleaned out all the expensive purses in the house.”

My cheeks flamed as he launched into the embarrassing story of my ‘great escape’ as he so articulately described it. Including how I fell into the bush and crawled my way underneath an open gate.

I couldn’t help but join in with their laughter though. Looking back at the attempt, it had been wholly ridiculous. I doubted I would ever live it down.

As time ebbed on, Jesse and Enzo got swept away by other family members, and I was left to my own devices. There were a few interested glances thrown my way by various men in attendance as well as some more vicious ones from the women. When two in particular started whispering in each other’s ears while looking in my direction, I went searching for a drink.

I cut a path through the crowd to the kitchen island, which had been set up as a bar and was littered with everything you could possibly want or need to make a decent cocktail.

Initially, I made myself something with a passion fruit I found, but upon glancing around the room and seeing Tom and Alonso stationed toward the back walls looking suitably bored, I decided to make a couple of virgin mojitos as well. Once I had shaken the concoction and poured it out into the two sugar rimmed glasses I had prepped, I took them over to the men on a tray.

They both inclined their heads and smiled down at me as I approached. It seemed that I was fast becoming friends with Marco’s security personnel, and surprisingly, I was happy about that.

“These are to say thank you for being the best security guards a girl could wish for,” I said sweetly, presenting them with the tray of drinks.

They looked at the drinks and then each other. I rolled my eyes, seeing where this was going.

“Would you both relax! It’s alcohol free.” I smiled triumphantly at them.

After a second of deliberating, they both reached for the glasses. “Thank you, Ma’am,” Tom said, and Alonso chimed in with the same.

“Jesus Christ, it’s Addie, okay? Or Adalyn. I’m not seventy ,” I scolded around a laugh. Alonso chuckled and Tom shot me a bemused look.

“Have a good night boys,” I said, turning round on my heel and heading back to the makeshift cocktail bar.

Unsure of what to make next, I perused the little menu card with recipes listed on it. I wasn’t a very experienced cocktail maker, so chose to chiefly examine the recipes marked as ‘beginner cocktails’. After only a few minutes of looking at the instructions, I huffed in confusion and gave up, preferring to go with the flow and throwing a bit of everything I liked into the mix instead.

“What are you making?” A familiar deep voice questioned, coming up behind me, amusement lifting his tone.

“I am making…” I began but hesitated. “I don’t really know what I’m making,” I admitted, my usually quick tongue failing to come up with its normal sarcastic response.

Marco ran a hand over his mouth absentmindedly, taking in the cacophony of ingredients scattered across the work surface.

“I figured that if I just put in everything I like then it would come out okay.” I shrugged, picking up the metal shaker and sloshing the mixture together.

He nodded slowly but didn’t look too convinced. The boyish smile I adored but rarely saw tugged at the corner of his lips as I poured the mixture into a glass.

Well, that looks fucking rank.

White and yellow lumpy pieces of God-knows-what sank to the bottom of the glass and the liquid appeared to be curdling.

I pursed my lips at the mess and looked over to Marco. To my surprise he was shaking with quiet laughter. His perfect white teeth flashed as a smile contorted his face and his eyes sparkled with amusement. His laugh was infectious, and I couldn’t help giggling as I observed the clumping cocktail.

“What the fuck is that?”

“I don’t even know,” I said around a laugh. “I’d better get rid of it before it poisons someone.”

I went to move the drink away, but Marco was faster. Removing it from my grip, he brought the glass to his lips before I had a chance to intervene.

“Marco!” I shouted and tugged on his arm to try and stop him. A few curious gazes turned in our direction, but I ignored them. “Are you crazy?” I half-laughed, half-shrieked.

After two big swigs he brought the now empty glass down onto the counter and pulled his face into a grimace, making me laugh even harder.

I eventually got out, “I’m not being held responsible for your death.”

“Noted.” He said in agreement. “It was probably the worst thing you’ve ever made. I’d stick with brownies.” He grinned, flashing his perfect white teeth and my heart fluttered in response.

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered derisively as he leaned against the counter.

“La Torre!” A man suddenly interrupted us, breaking into our conversation to pull Marco into a flinchingly hard hug.

“Ronaldo.” Marco greeted with a pat on the back. Familiarity making his confident voice smooth as silk.

He got quickly drafted into the small group of men that subsequently descended on us and I took that as my cue to leave.

Deciding it was probably best to keep away from the cocktails, I grabbed a bottle of Pinot Grigio and made my way outside to sit by the pool.

My shadows, Tom and Alonso followed behind me as I settled into one of the comfortable seating areas. I poured a glass of wine and sat back, watching the party from a distance. Periodically a few glances were shot my way. Most curious, some somewhat angry, and others a bit leery, so I turned my attention upward to try and locate any of the star constellations I was familiar with.

“YOU!”

A vaguely familiar female voice rang out across the patio, and I glanced down in time to see a furious looking Lexi marching through the group of people loitering nearby. It took me a moment to figure out that it was in fact me that she was storming toward and shouting at.

“You fucking slut!” She screeched again and people began turning in our direction.

I could see she was unsteady on her feet even from this distance. Her sky-high neon heels glinting in the candlelight as she continued on an apparent warpath toward me.

Alonso intercepted her about fifteen feet away from the table, bringing her to a halt. She immediately took a swing at him, but he blocked as if swatting a fly and she growled in frustration.

I didn’t know what the hell her problem was, but I had a feeling I was going to find out whether I cared for it or not.

“You’re a little bitch, you know that? I don’t know who the fuck you think you are?—"

“I think you’ve said enough Lexi.” I cut her off, my voice cold and biting. “Take your trashy ass home where it belongs.” I picked up my glass and took a sip, dismissing her.

“ Me trashy? I hear you sleep with anything wearing an Armani suit, you gold digging skank!” she screamed.

Ah, I see where this is going.

“Cesare Attolini actually,” I corrected mockingly.

“I bet you begged your daddy to leave you here just so you could whore your way through a new family.” My teeth snapped together with that, anger beginning to bubble in my veins. “I don’t blame him for not paying your ransom. No bitch is worth that kind of money.”

My temper flared, and I put the glass down on the table, fearing it would snap if left in my hand. My fingers twitched to be let loose on Lexi’s face as I walked to where Alonso stood restraining her.

“Say that again. I fucking dare you.” I stopped less than six feet away as the blonde struggled to get closer to me, her acrylics biting into Alonso’s trunk of an arm.

“I think too much dick has made you stupid, Adalyn. What I said was: no bitch is worth paying that kind of money for. Or any kind of money, actually.” She spat acerbically.

“Alonso. Please move.”

Lexi’s face contorted into a bloodthirsty smile at my words.

“Ma’am—” he begun to protest.

“ Now , Alonso.”

Hesitantly, Alonso removed his hand from Lexi’s arm.

Predictably, she sprang at the opportunity and threw herself in my direction. Her uncoordinated legs flailing as she ploughed across the mere feet that now separated us.

Her hands went for my face, and I blocked her arms with ease having already anticipated her move. Her sharp nails sailing through the air only inches away from my face.

I used the opportunity to swing one of my legs round the back of her knee, knocking her off balance as she grabbed a fistful of my hair. My head jerked, and soon enough I was tumbling with her, thankfully landing on top of the skank rather than under her.

Once I got my bearings, I slapped her clean across the face until her grip in my hair loosened. She shrieked and clawed my arms instead, drawing thin red tendrils across the skin. I smacked her again, but this time harder than before, the adrenaline fueling my violence. The crack against her cheek was sickening, but it was scarcely more than a sting to my hand.

Her eyes glossed over in a daze, and I staggered away from her, walking back to the table. I tried my best to ignore the crowd of onlookers that had begun to descend on us.

“Do you really think he wants you?” She laughed, crooning behind me.

God’s, this girl just doesn’t know when to shut up.

“How better to stick it to your family than to screw its only heir?” She rose to her feet, a cruel smile lining her lips. “Don’t you see? By fucking you he’s fucking over the enemy. It’s pathetic really.”

A quiet gasp went through the crowd, but I barely heard it.

I saw red.

Bright fucking red.

I yelled and hurled myself at her.

The second we collided, I started clawing at whatever I could get my hands on and she did the same. Skin, clothing, hair. It didn’t matter. The aim was to inflict pain—it didn’t matter how. Lost in our thirst for each other’s blood we toppled to the floor as we both started grappling for the upper hand.

Lexi shrieked as I struck her in the jaw, and I smirked in satisfaction. She clawed at my arms once again, but another hit to her jaw sent her flying off me. I’m winning this fight, I realized.

However, the satisfaction was short lived.

Lexi grabbed a fistful of my hair and threw her weight to the side, sending us both crashing into the swimming pool. Our scrap continued for a second or two underwater, until our need for oxygen outweighed our need for blood—though in my case it wasn’t by much.

A symphony of shouting, laughing and exclamations shattered the temporary silence of the water.

When I looked about me, the first thing I noticed was Marco standing at the pools edge. His expression was one of pure fury and I instinctually shrunk away. It took a second for me to realize that his fury wasn’t directed at me for once, but at the half-drowned Barbie off to my left.

“Get the fuck out of the water! NOW!”

“She started it!” Lexi’s whining response shouted back.

Humiliation over the entire situation heated my face despite the mildness of the water.

Too ashamed to stand my ground in front of the hoard of people who already hated my guts and now believed me to be nothing but a na?ve slut, I swam to the furthest edge of the pool. Keeping my eyes trained on my hands, I lifted myself onto the edge and pulled off my heels before finding my feet. Soundlessly, I dived toward the path leading down the far side of the mansion and away from the scene behind me.

MARCO

“Get her out of here. I swear to God if she gets into this complex again, I will cut your fucking dick off.” I hissed viciously into Jesse’s ear after Ada had fled.

Part of me wanted to follow her, but I knew I couldn’t.

I hadn’t seen all of the fight, but I had seen enough of it to know the damage Lexi’s words would have caused.

Despite what most people knew of the Mannino daughter, she wasn’t as assured or as fearless as her smart mouth made her out to be. Underneath it all there was a…. A softness that was rare to come across amongst the Cosa Nostra, having been quashed in our early years by a propensity for violence. It was a softness that seemed to make devotees out of anyone that she dined to show it to. My staff, Jesse, and my fucking self included.

My self-restraint pulled dangerously taut as her figure, soaked in pool water, disappeared down the side of the house.

God, she was beautiful. The things I could do to that woman…

Now really isn’t the fucking time!

I shook my head to clear the thought.

Unfortunately for me, Lexi was fast approaching with a manufactured sadness in her eyes and a bullshit apology on her lips. She looked closer to a drowned thrift store doll than the classy hooker she often tried to imitate.

I didn’t feel an ounce of remorse when I nodded at Layton to dump her gold-digging ass off my property. I turned my back to her, ignoring her protests as she was dragged away in what I was hoping would be the last time I would ever see her.

Truth be told, I didn’t know why I had fucked about with Lexi for so long. She was an easy lay and a guy had to eat, I guess. It was also a way of releasing all the extra energy one particular hostage kept manufacturing….

I turned to the spectators that had gathered in the garden.

I could see the accusations Lexi made about Ada had made an impact, marring their view on the Mannino descendent that had done nothing to earn their disgust. We weren’t even sleeping together. Yet .

“Adalyn Rossi has done nothing to earn the accusations made here tonight.” I addressed the mixture of friends and family milling about my yard, immediately silencing them.

The men looked back at me with a combination of reverence or fear, while the woman looked at me with either reservation or barely restrained attraction. Even some of the older ones.

“She is part of this family now. She is a La Torre. If anyone has a problem with that then your family will have your body back in a box. Am I clear?” I swear I could have heard a moth shit it was so quiet.

I turned and stalked back inside.

I needed a plan to show Ada Lexi’s words weren’t true.

I needed proof. Evidence .

I needed a fucking drink.

ADALYN

I wasn’t sure how long I’d sat under the steady stream of water, but it was long enough that the marble white slabs no longer felt cold, and my hands had turned wrinkled, like an old, weathered hag’s. So, I assumed it had been a while.

The constant babbling of guests had long since fallen silent when I turned the faucet off and wrapped myself in a towel, so I was pretty certain the party had ended.

Much as I hated to admit it, Lexi’s words had gotten to me.

Once again, I was doubting the invisible tie I felt to Marco. He’d told me he wasn’t a monster right from the beginning and up until the party I had believed him.

But sometimes monsters hide deep .

Could this all be part of an elaborate game? One where he ended up fucking me just to stick it to my father and simultaneously break my heart in the process?

I scowled at my reflection and grabbed a nearby cotton pad from the vanity to begin wiping my face of any remnants of the evening. Movement in the mirror made me pause a moment.

A familiar presence warmed the room, but I refused to acknowledge it. Keeping my gaze trained to my hand as I continued scrubbing the lingering foundation off my face.

Marco leaned against the bathroom wall; hands tucked into both pockets.

I need to hide my heart from this man.

Caring for him would mean death to my peace of mind.

“What?” I demanded icily, unable to bear the loaded silence any longer.

“Are you ok?” His usually cold voice held a tinge of concern, but it was most probably a figment of my imagination.

I looked at the scratches on my arms but eventually nodded.

“Lexi got to you didn’t she.”

It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t answer.

I grabbed my hairbrush from the counter and started racking it through my dark tangles of hair. He remained silent, but he looked to be contemplating something. His brows furrowed in thought.

“You agreed earlier that I am not a monster.” He eventually said, pushing himself up from the wall.

“Yes, but you are still a Don .” I snapped, slamming my hairbrush down. “Known for ruthlessness, violence, and manipulation. There is no place for caring or love in the heart of a Don. Just power. And while I believe you to be different, I would be na?ve to think that fucking me as a power move hasn’t ever crossed your mind.”

I finally met his watching eyes in the mirror.

His voice was cold. “It hasn’t.”

“Do you really expect me to believe you? Just take your word for it and skip through my days with my head in the clouds?” Did he really think I was so ignorant?

A scowl creased his brow, and he took a measured step in my direction. “I guess you will have to trust me.”

I spun around to face him angrily.

“Trust you!” I scoffed.

“Fine. Then I’ll make you another deal,” he said flippantly, and I crossed my arms in response, tired of the games.

“Seems like a lot of work just for someone to sleep with. You’re better off leaving me alone,” I said airily. Tauntingly.

Surprisingly he didn’t bite—he just smiled.

“You give me your trust.” I opened my mouth to immediately protest, but he quickly cut me off. “You give me your trust, and if I so much as break it once, I will set you free. You can keep your car, the clothes and all the money you could ever need, but you would be free to disappear. You’d never have to see me again.”

I sucked in a breath, “How do I know you’ll hold up your end of the bargain?”

“How do I know you will hold up yours? Proof.”

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wad of paper. Slowly his large hands unraveled its contents, revealing a dark blue passport and some other documents. He gestured for me to take them.

For a second, I stared at the paperwork in my hands.

They were all the documents I would need to start over. A passport with my picture and my name, Adalyn Rossi. A new social security, bank accounts, identification documents, health card, and educational diplomas. All the documents that could get me wherever I wanted to be.

He wasn’t lying about the bargain. This was the proof.

He had done all this to get me to trust him and to trust the fact that Lexi’s words were just as fake as her personality. Something akin to hope burned through my chest as unease circled in my stomach.

He pulled the paper from my frozen fingers and carefully tucked it away. His eyes coasted over my body, a storm slowly brewing beneath their surface.

“Trust me now when I say that being with you is not a power move. That you are not part of some game, and you are not a tool for retribution.” His voice was so deep I felt it in my chest.

The documents, the care he’d shown, how he listened about the employees of Pretty Penny Loans … I nodded. I could trust him.

“Prove to me that you believe me. That you do trust me.”

My brain slowly caught up and I faltered, fresh out of ideas on how exactly to prove it.

He took a slow step forward, his hand rubbing across his lips as a dark smile tugged at their edges. It did nothing to ease the thundering in my ears or the tingle in my stomach.

“I have an idea.” His voice took on a rough edge, but he offered no further explanation.

He edged closer to me. His muscled form dwarfing mine as heat pulsed from him in waves. The back of one of his large hands came to rest on my cheek, a finger gently brushing my bottom lip. My breath hitched and butterflies pooled in the pit of my stomach, while his other hand weaved its way into my wet hair, and he pulled softly. Maneuvering my head to an angle where he'd have access to my neck.

His face lowered and my heart rate drummed in nervous anticipation as warm breath traced along my skin.

His lips came to rest at my ear, “Tell me something.”

“What do you want to know?” I asked breathlessly, completely absorbed by his touch.

“Something no one else does. Something you would only tell someone you trust.” His lips pressed against the hollow of my ear, making it difficult for me to focus on the words.

“I don’t… I can’t think of anything.”

“I need proof, Ada.” He scolded darkly. Teasingly.

Fuck I can’t think straight.

“I-I um… I watch porn sometimes.”

Marco pulled back and let out a quiet laugh, his shoulders shaking.

I instantly smoldered, having let out that embarrassing morsel of information.

He shot me my favorite boyish smile before descending back onto my neck.

“I was thinking of something else…” He hinted, but at what exactly I wasn’t sure. I could barely see past the shiver stretching down my spine from where his lips met my skin. “How many men have you been with?”

That brought me somewhat out of my blissful reverie, and I gulped.

Sex outside of marriage, especially for women, was frowned upon in our society.

Ruled by the Catholic church, the age-old principles on purity, the body, and marriage were ingrained in the Cosa Nostra’s very core. For a woman to have had sex outside of marriage or without a contract drawn up by her father was not just scandalous—it marred the family name. Not that it didn’t happen from time to time.

While it was no secret to Marco that I seemed…more promiscuous than most in my position. He didn’t know to what extent—if any. Telling him that extent , however, had the potential to ruin me… which was exactly why he’d asked me that question. He knew that by giving him my answer, I had to trust him implicitly.

“T-t-two.” I stuttered out.

Surprisingly, he didn’t seem bothered by the information.

His lips continuing to press against me languidly, just below my jaw.

“Where are they now?”

“One is…at the bottom of Lake Mead.” I sighed, bringing a hand up to thread into his disheveled hair.

“The other?” His voice was scarcely audible despite the proximity.

“I don’t know.” I answered honestly.

Truth was, I didn’t want to know where he was.

Marco slowly moved back an inch to watch me with lidded eyes. My hand fell to his large chest as a sliver of air now separated us and I missed the hardness of his body instantly. My unease evaporated when his hand moved from my hair to my shoulder, gliding downwards to rest on my waist.

His head tilted to the side in a silent question, his eyes tender.

I didn’t answer but nodded my head, knowing exactly what he was asking.

His hands moved slowly to my chest, and he pulled the material knotted there loose, with a flick of his wrist. The towel fell with a soft thud to the floor, leaving me standing completely bare before him.

I had never been so acutely aware of my nakedness.

My pulsing anticipation only intensified as his face darkened with need, coiling between my legs and sending tingles dancing along my skin. I watched as his impenetrable gaze trailed over my body, eventually coming to rest on my lips.

With snake like speed, he reached out, pulling me flush to his chest. His lips crashed into mine with unwavering ferocity as restraint fractured within him.

I met his kiss feverishly, sucking on his lips and pushing mine wider, inviting him to taste my mouth. Instinctually, my hands wound around his broad shoulders. He groaned the moment his hands skimmed my waist and landed on my naked ass.

I sighed as he sucked and nipped a trail across the plains of my chest and captured a hardened nipple with his tongue. He played with it, biting down on my taught skin with surprising gentleness, licking the sting of pain away before moving to the other nipple. I hissed in ecstasy.

But the moment I felt him drop to his knee in front of me I froze.

Was I ready for this?

I didn’t know what this even meant to Marco, but I had a pretty good idea.

He had told me he wanted me…but sex was sex to men like him. It was a commodity. A transaction. The moment I gave in to the irresistible attraction there was between us, there would be nothing left for me to give him.

Once he had had me, everything would change.

How could I possibly live in his home as he brought back countless other women? Watch him as he eventually married and settled down, while my feelings for him remained unchanged?

I didn’t fit into his future.

To me, whatever this was, it was more than just sex. It meant something not only because of my past…but because despite everything, I had caught feelings for the man now kneeling before me.

If I gave in to him now…I risked feeling the pain of it forever.

“Marco.”

I could feel him pause a moment, his breath swirling against my stomach. Then his lips sucked at the skin beneath my belly button and his strong hands started trailing the backs of my calves.

“Marco. I can’t do this.”

His hands stilled against my skin as the words hung in the air.

A handful of seconds passed before he turned his head away from me, a sound of discontent resonating deep within in his throat. Slowly, he rose to his feet and turned his back toward me, letting out a heavy sigh.

I caught a glimpse of his expression in the mirror. Arousal mixed with frustration shadowed his eyes and creased his brow as he looked down at the floor.

He didn’t make another sound as he walked out, leaving me weak and trembling in his wake.