Chapter 17
ALESSIA
His eyes sparked with anger as he came off the wall, energized by his speech.
What he said was true to an extent. I wasn’t na?ve enough to think corruption wasn’t rife in the world, but charging an oppressive interest rate wasn’t the same as breaking kneecaps to get your money.
The more I thought about it, the more defensive I became.
“You tell me not to lie, but that’s exactly what you’re doing,” I argued, sitting up straighter as anger infused steel into my spine.
“You make it sound like you’re purely a businessman, but I’ve seen you fight and shoot.
You can’t honestly tell me those are purely recreational hobbies—you hurt people. ”
“And what about your boss back there? He didn’t have any qualms about hurting you, and you were innocent.
At least the people I associate with know what they sign up for—your asshole boss and those men under the bridge are animals out looking to prey on the easiest victim to cross their paths.
For each of them, there’s a dozen more you never know about—they’re everywhere.
I don’t go looking to hurt people, but I’m not going to let anyone walk all over me.
Yes, I can defend myself, because it’s just as necessary today as it was a thousand years ago. ”
His words resounded in a place deep inside me.
I didn’t want him to make sense, but he did.
It was easier when things were put in terms of right and wrong, good and bad, but life was far too complicated for such blanket characterizations.
The vast majority of humanity fell somewhere on the spectrum—not purely good or bad.
There was a small percentage of people who were downright evil, but I’d bet my life Luca wasn’t one of them, but was that enough?
Where was the cutoff on the spectrum to delineate allowable versus unacceptable?
I couldn’t meet his eyes as I processed his argument. I was so confused and still reeling from my confrontation with Roger. Was he making sense, or was I just desperate to exonerate him from his wrongdoings?
“You told me your brother was killed,” Luca said, bringing my attention back to him. “Did the police ever find the man responsible?”
I was surprised by his change in subjects, unsure where he was going, but I shook my head slowly.
“He could still be out there, living his life free as a bird. Would prison be adequate punishment, or would you want to see him dead for what he did? That would technically be murder, but wouldn’t it be justifiable?” He stepped closer as he pled his case, seeing the indecision plain on my features.
He’d gone for the jugular by bringing up Marco.
My big brother was a sensitive topic. He’d been protective and loving, even when surrounded by three obnoxious little sisters. We were all devastated when we lost him. If I ever came across his murderer, I’d kill him myself. It would be no less than he deserved—gunning down an innocent child.
Some things were unforgivable.
Where Marco was concerned, my opinions were rigid and harsh.
What did that say about me? That I would kill a man, no questions asked?
I’ve heard women say they could never pull a trigger, but I always knew I could, if only for that one purpose.
Some people were unredeemable, and a man who kills a child is at the top of that list.
“Yes, it would be justifiable.” My eyes slowly found his, and I knew the questions rife in his piercing gaze were mirrored on my face. His questions were doubtless very different than mine, but they were there, nonetheless.
“We live by a code, and we believe in honor and respect—that doesn’t make us monsters.
Laws are there to keep people in line when there is no other system of accountability.
We have our own system—I can’t go into the details but know that we are men of honor.
I have sworn an oath to my family, and I will abide by that promise until the day I die.
Those are the principles I live by, but that doesn’t change the man I am.
Until you knew about my family, you had no problems with me.
Don’t throw this thing between us away because of that. ”
Each word he said pulled me further to his side, and I wasn’t sure if he was convincing or manipulating.
I needed time away from his persuasive influence.
“I hear what you’re saying, but I need to think about it on my own.
I think I should probably go.” I rose from the couch, and Luca came to stand before me.
“Is that what you really want?” he asked quietly, his voice losing its demanding fervor.
Yes. No. “I don’t know what I want—that’s part of the problem. You’re a criminal, but I have these feelings … I’m so confused, and I need to sort it out on my own.”
“I know you want to go, but I can’t let you leave, not after what happened.
” He held up his hand to stop my protests.
“Let me finish. I have some things I need to go handle. I’ll grab you something to change into—you can hang out here, and when I’m done with work, I’ll take you to dinner.
That gives you some time to think, and I’ll feel better knowing you’re here safe. ”
How could I argue with that?
With a warm hand splayed on my lower back, he directed me to his bedroom where he picked out an undershirt and boxers for me.
“These may be huge on you, but they’ll work.
I want you to relax while I’m gone—everything is going to be okay.
You don’t have to make any decisions this second.
” He placed a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be back in a few hours; make yourself comfortable.
” As he pulled away, his thumb swept across my lips, a soft, intimate gesture that made my chest constrict with conflicted longing.
Not only was his touch soothing, his reassurances were exactly what I needed to hear.
How was it the very subject of my turmoil could also be my primary source of comfort?
Luca was everything I wanted and the absolute worst thing for me.
Logic and emotion warred inside me, and I had no idea which would win the battle.
After listening to the front door close, I went into his large master bathroom to change.
The space was the perfect complement to the rest of the apartment—white cabinetry with beautiful grey marble counters and a large white free-standing porcelain tub near the far wall.
Behind that, a walk-through shower extended the length of the back wall with a dozen shower heads for two occupants.
His closet door was open, which I took as an invitation to peer inside.
One wall was lined with suits, which didn’t surprise me since I’d seen him in a different suit each day we’d been together.
As I walked along the row of clothes, I grazed my fingertips across the rich fabrics, and his spicy scent enveloped me in the confined space.
My eyes briefly closed as I breathed him in, languishing in the illusion of having him near.
There were several pairs of sneakers, all worn but well cared for—an unwelcome reminder of his training activities.
The closet boasted a collection of expensive ties of which Neimen Marcus would be proud—all nearly solid in powerful colors like red, black and royal blue.
I wasn’t brave enough to snoop in his drawers, even though I desperately wanted to.
Being left alone to peruse his personal belongings sent an excited tingle through all my nerve endings.
I loved being in his space, and that was a dangerous prospect.
My logical mind insisted I should walk out the door and never look back, but my body didn’t comply.
Despite what I’d said, I wasn’t sure it made any difference if I had space from him or not—he was in my veins, with me always.
My body thrummed with need for him. Separation only made my awareness of him more acute, my mind plagued with thoughts of him, and my body heavy with a sense of loss. When he wasn’t around, I felt empty. My need for him twisted my thoughts, and I rationalized reasons to keep him near me.
I was a junkie.
The realization hit me with the driving force of an arctic wind, and my entire body shivered. All it had taken was one hit—one fateful exchange in an elevator, and I was hooked. Could I break the habit? Did I want to? How could I consider staying with him when he was in the mafia?
The circular arguments and constant inner turmoil were exhausting.
I hadn’t even realized how tired I was until I stepped back into his bedroom.
Sheer blinds covered the windows, casting a soft glow in the room, making it peaceful and inviting.
The bed looked heavenly. It hadn’t been made, but the covers weren’t in disarray either.
It was clear Luca slept on the near side where a clock and a glass sat on the nightstand.
Leaning over, I sniffed the pillow—it smelled like him.
The scent drew me closer as I crawled beneath the covers, surrounding myself in his safety and warmth.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever been so comfortable in my entire life, and my worries faded away as my eyes drifted shut.
A caress down the length of my arm roused me from my sleep.
“A man could get used to coming home to a sight like this.” Luca sat next to where I lay in his bed, his eyes soft like warm milk chocolate. “Time to get up. I’m taking you out.”
I glanced up at the clock. “Six! I slept longer than I expected.” I sat up groggily, gently rubbing my eyes so as not to smear my makeup before I remembered all the crying I’d done. I was lucky if my eye makeup wasn’t already spread all over my face.
“It was an eventful morning; you needed the rest.”
I nodded blankly, and he chuckled.
“Get dressed, sleepyhead—although, I get an enormous amount of pleasure seeing you in my clothes.” His voice deepened, and when I met his eyes, his gaze was hooded.