9. Evelyn
Chapter 9
Evelyn
T he sun shone on Massimo’s golden skin, his muscular chest on full display. My body heated for him, and I was grateful for the cool breeze created by the forward motion of the speedboat. He wrapped one arm around me and steered the boat with his other hand. I leaned into him in complete contentment. To our right, the island of Capri rose from the sea, ancient rock jutting up from the water. The lush greenery was dotted with pale pastel villas and clusters of shops.
As we rounded the small island, the iconic Faraglioni formation appeared before us: three massive, pale grey rocks emerging from the azure sea. Massimo slowed the boat so that we cruised peacefully toward the arch in the center of one of the rocks. It looked small from this distance, but as we neared the massive landmarks, I realized that the arch formed a large enough passage for our boat to glide through it.
I lifted my camera and captured the imposing sight, taking a dozen shots of the scenery before my focus was drawn inexorably back to my dark savior. His low chuckle rumbled over me as he placed a hand on top of my camera, gently urging me to lower it.
“You can’t photograph me all the time,” he chided. “No one will want to buy those pictures.”
I defied him with a sly smile, lifting my Canon again to capture his sun kissed face and flashing eyes. Their pale, silvery blue mirrored the sea, like the glittering sunlight that danced on the water.
“Who says I’m selling my art? What if I’m selfish enough to keep these images for myself?”
He laughed again, and the rich sound rolled through me in a wave of warm happiness. “All right, farfallina. You can keep the pictures of me for your own private use.” He tucked a stray lock of blonde hair behind my ear, and I blushed at his implication. “But don’t you want to share your art with the world?”
My heart lifted at the thought. “I don’t know if I’m good enough,” I admitted. “I’ve always dreamed of having my photographs in a gallery somewhere, but that will take years of work building a reputation for myself.”
He curled two fingers beneath my chin, lifting my face to his. “I believe in you, Evelyn. You can do anything you want to do. You are talented enough, and you deserve success. The world needs more beauty in it. You have so much to offer.”
“And what do you want?” I pressed, wishing him equal happiness to what he was promising me.
“You,” he replied, the single word resonating through my soul.
I flushed with pleasure but pushed a bit more, “What do you want for your future? You have me already.”
He took a moment to consider his answer. “I want security for us both. I want to provide a home for you and build a life that we can share. Soon, we’ll be totally free to make our own choices.”
“You don’t feel free now?”
He cupped my nape, his thick fingers sliding into my hair. “I’ve never been totally free to pursue the future I want. I’ve fought for every scrap of freedom I have. I want to choose my own path. That’s what I’m doing now with Gian and Enzo. We clawed our way out of Le Vele , and we paid our dues. I will never be locked up again.”
I blinked up at him in surprise. “You were in prison?”
He nodded grimly. “For two years, from sixteen to eighteen.”
“What were you arrested for?” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know, but I craved to understand him better.
“I robbed a jewelry store with Enzo. It was mostly cheap shit, but that was how we got by back then. It was how we proved ourselves.” He shrugged as though it didn’t bother him, but I noted the tension around his eyes. “Everyone gets locked up sooner or later. I don’t intend to repeat the experience.” He kissed my furrowed brow. “Don’t worry, dolcezza. I’m untouchable now. I won’t ever leave you, and I’ll never be under someone else’s control ever again.”
My heart ached for him, for the desperate circumstances that’d shaped him. I understood his need to dominate me now. He’d never felt fully in control of his life, and controlling my pleasure brought him a sense of satisfaction and peace.
I would gladly give him my body in any way he desired if it would ease some of his burdens. We would find our freedom together.
He pulled me close and steered the boat toward the arch in the rock. “Kiss me,” he murmured against my lips. “It’s good luck.”
I could hardly believe that I’d been lucky enough to meet this wonderful man, and he was all mine.
I tipped my head back and offered myself to him, pledging my future to him with every caress of my tongue against his. He deepened the kiss as we passed beneath the shadow of the arch, laying claim to everything I promised and making silent vows of his own.
I tried to stop my jaw from hanging open as Massimo led me through the pedestrian streets of Capri, struggling not to gawk at the beauty of the setting and the luxury items that filled shop windows. He’d already insisted on buying me a new dress, and a pair of large diamond studs now adorned my ears.
We approached an empty shop, and a woman greeted us in front of the glass door.
Massimo introduced himself and me, so it was clear that the woman was a stranger to him. My brow was still pinched with puzzlement when she unlocked the door and gestured for us to enter.
“Call me when you’re finished, and I’ll lock up whenever you leave,” she said warmly. “Take your time. I’ll give you some privacy, and I’m happy to accommodate any further requests.”
Massimo thanked her, took my hand, and guided me into the empty space.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, confused.
He spread his arms wide to encompass the large, bare space. “Do you like it?”
“The location is beautiful,” I replied, uncertain what to say.
He chuckled and pulled me close. “It’s for you, farfallina. This will be your gallery if you want it.”
“What?” I asked on a little puff of air, not sure if I’d heard him correctly.
“I’ll buy it for you,” he elaborated. “But if you don’t like the space, we’ll find somewhere else.”
I shook my head, my eyes stinging. “It’s too much.”
He cupped my cheeks in both hands, holding me as though I was his most precious treasure. “Nothing is too much for you.”
“But I didn’t earn it,” I protested. My heart tugged toward his. I wanted to accept, but I couldn’t quite shake the lingering sense of unworthiness.
His expression turned stern. “Did you earn your degree?”
“Yes, but I’ve never sold my art. I’ve never been featured in a gallery. You can’t buy success for me, Massimo.”
“I’m not buying your success; that will be your own, and I won’t take it from you. But I can provide the space where you can reach others with your art. Whether you succeed or not will be up to you. But I have faith that you will.”
“I love you.” The words rushed from me in a burst of pure emotion.
His eyes widened with awe for a fraction of a second before he crushed his lips to mine, as though he could taste the promise of my devotion on my tongue.
He stepped toward me, never breaking our kiss as he directed me into the privacy of the back room, away from the large shop window where passersby might see us. He pushed me up against the wall and shoved my dress over my thighs, reaching for my core.
“Tell me again,” he commanded, grabbing my sex in a rough, possessive grip.
“I love you,” I moaned, rocking my hips into his hand, seeking stimulation.
My clit pulsed with pleasure as he ground his palm against it, his fingers dipping between my slick folds. I was wet and ready for him, desperate to feel him inside me, making love to me. I felt his love in every lash of his tongue against mine and in the harsher graze of his teeth over my lower lip.
“All mine,” he growled into my mouth, lavishing me with hungry kisses.
He rotated his hand against my sensitive pussy, and I cried out at the burst of pleasure.
“Your whore is beautiful, but I’d rather see my hands on her.”
I yelped at the new, unfamiliar voice. Massimo whirled, placing his massive body between me and the crass stranger.
Three men crowded into the back room with us. They were all armed, and the one at the center of the group—the man who’d spoken—held a gun trained on Massimo’s heart.
I cringed at the sight of his scarred face, which was twisted in a maniacal leer.
He jerked his chin in the direction of the back wall, and I noted the open door for the first time. It led into a darkened space, and I glimpsed a concrete wall and stairs.
“We’re going into the basement. I wouldn’t want anyone to hear your slut screaming.”
“You’ll be the one screaming,” Massimo snarled, his huge body swelling with protective rage. “You’re a dead man, Rocco.”
The intruder barked a cruel laugh. “Who’s holding the gun here?” he challenged. “I’ll shoot you if you reach for your weapon, and then you won’t be alive to watch me play with her. That would be a shame. I’ve been dreaming of the day I get to destroy you for what you did to my face, and you won’t rob me of the satisfaction.”
“You killed my parents,” Massimo growled, and my heart skipped a beat. “I should’ve ended you that day. You will not touch Evelyn.”
Rocco sneered. “I think you’ll find that I will touch her as much as I want.” He nodded in the direction of the basement again. “Go on. Or I’ll make it hurt worse.”
Massimo reached for me, taking my hand in a vise grip. “It will be okay, farfallina ,” he promised. “I’ll keep you safe.”
I wished I could believe him, but even my dark protector couldn’t survive a bullet to the heart.
“I’ll go with you,” I told the monster who’d murdered his parents. “Don’t hurt Massimo.”
Rocco grinned at me, a horrific baring of teeth. “Watching you scream will hurt him a lot more than shooting him.”
My blood ran cold, and I shuddered in revulsion. I looked at the two men who flanked him, desperately searching for any sign of hesitation or mercy.
I found none. I read my death in their cold eyes, and Rocco’s insane leer told me that he would enjoy extracting every second of my suffering.