Chapter 6 Tristan
TRISTAN
The force of seeing her again sucker punches me straight in the gut, threatening to knock me down. My knees go weak, and I lean back from sheer gravity.
Fate. Is this fucking fate serving me a prime example? I loathe the notion. I am not a damn puppet on someone else’s strings. Not some lost soul stumbling through life, following blindly a path someone else set for me.
I am Tristan Kinkaid—nothing moves me, nothing affects me.
But it’s getting harder to ignore the asinine concept humans invented to make sense of things that are beyond their understanding.
Since she crashed into my life, I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Viviana is stuck in there like a virus that took over and rewrote my system, leaving me powerless when I swore to myself I’d never be helpless again.
Who the fuck put her in my path, making a mess out of my tidy life?
Why is she the exception, bringing chaos into my organized schedule?
In the last month, she has assaulted my brain, hijacking my focus like nothing else—remembering her honeyed taste, the exquisite feel of her lithe body, undoing me, one string of reason after another.
I’ve searched for her like a complete madman, ignoring work, postponing sleep. She disappeared into the night like a ghost, leaving me wondering if I had made her up.
Pragmatic as I am, I had someone draw her features to run the image through a facial recognition program. I came here to get myself back under control after discovering her identity, aware of whose virginity I took.
Did God himself decide to punish me sooner, notwithstanding waiting until I took my last fucking breath to kick me straight to hell among my peers.
Did the devil decide to take notes about my depravity, knowing full well I lack morals and give a damn about repenting for my sins?
But her very existence tests my resolve.
Tests my control.
Ironic that the woman I have been searching for is my sister’s best friend.
Evie begged me not to dig up information about her roommate, who I thought was just another girl and not a fucking Mafia princess. The sister-in-law of one of my associates.
A flush colors her beautiful face—that unforgettable face starring in every daydream and haunting my nights. “I should go.”
She makes no move, aware I won’t let her leave—having her and holding on to my sanity synonymous.
“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve sneaked out on me,” I grit out.
I never thought she’d leave my bed. No goodbye. No note. Nothing. And I, who usually has the most sensitive sleep possible, slept like a fucking satiated beast after enjoying a scrumptious feast.
“What were you doing at the masquerade?” I gnash my teeth, struggling for composure.
Her eyes widen into two incredulous pools, pupils switching from left to right in clear terror. “I was with a friend.”
“Yes, who?”
She swallows, avoiding my gaze. “Dario.”
Now I can put a picture next to the fucker’s name.
Cato’s brother and the underboss of the Moretti-Bertinelli Family.
I also remember her saying he was her first kiss.
But I had her first everything else. The need to claim her reveals I am truly fucked.
There’s no assuaging the turmoil—mad at her for being this irresponsible.
In Boston, they’re keen on tradition, yet she gave herself to me, risking so fucking much. Regardless, a sense of pride like nothing else warms my chest. For me, because of me, she forgot who she was.
I jerk my chin at her, my voice sounding stable, everything I am not. “Who is Dario to you?”
Jealousy breathes a ball of fire through me, incinerating my insides. Fisting my hands at my sides, I picture snapping his neck to subdue the chaos ravaging me.
“None of your business,” she snaps.
She appears so damn docile, but there was more to her from the beginning. Her outburst, emphasizing that, is another example of her passionate nature.
“I think it is, since I had my tongue, fingers, and dick so deep inside of you, I broke your virgin cunt,” I snap back.
She flinches at the truth. “It was a mistake.”
I cock my head, schooling my features into a neutral, calm exterior, a facade. “A mistake? The first time you came, the second, or the third?”
I can’t forget the sounds she made as she came so beautifully for me.
My jaw sets in a hard line. “What exactly was the mistake, Viviana?” My voice turns lower, betraying that I am teetering on the edge.
Her eyes shine with vulnerability so raw it propels me to move toward her. “You’re Evie’s brother.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I offer a noncommittal nod.
I’ve kept my sister a secret for so many years, and yet I confide in this woman who has a direct link to the world I’ve kept Evie away from.
From the monsters lurking in the shadows, me included.
From a traumatic past where she saw our mother being murdered.
She would have been next if I hadn’t shown up at the right moment.
My life has been a string of surviving the cruelty of my father and overcoming the loss of my mother. I had to become the king of monsters—unfeeling, uncaring. A cunning strategist, a merciless killer who always follows his next conquest, a plan no one is privy to.
Viviana has been the only surprise—a positive one. I doubt she would still gaze at me and not run if she knew who I really am, besides Evie’s brother.
Pushed by a force that is beyond my capacity to understand, I graze my knuckles along her cheekbones, gentleness threading through the hardness of my soul.
I thought my capacity to feel something had been snubbed a long time ago. I believed my softness extended only to my sister, yet with Viviana, it’s more of a compulsion.
She sucks in a breath, retreating as I back her into the library, caught, trapped with no way to escape.
A groan vibrates low in my throat, not liking the distance she tries to erect between us. One I will eradicate time and time again.
“You should stay away from me,” she says meekly, her face panic-stricken.
I cock my head. “Why? Would it make it easier for you?”
She shakes her head, gulping. “You don’t know who I am.”
I purse my lips to hide my amusement and not reveal that I know exactly who she is.
Disregarding fate, I take this pleasant coincidence as a chance. I’ve been searching for a way to bridge the conflict between the Syndicate and the brACON for years now. I am stuck in the middle, and the Syndicate has become warier of me.
The four fuckers are the unofficial rulers of the underworld, having amassed incredible power.
While I have always been a lone wolf, I’ve associated myself with both groups.
A marriage would cement my union with the Syndicate.
Money doesn’t differentiate allegiances, so I do business with both organizations.
Plus, it’s bad for business not knowing when one is going to thrust us into a bloody war. They have been busy with their babies and taking care of their respective families. But in our world, grudges never end, and I can’t afford to get too comfortable.
I won’t face losses or become a casualty in their pissing contest.
So, no, it wasn’t fate, but an opportunity I won’t waste but will use to my advantage. She shouldn’t have caught my interest. Now, it’s too late for her.
“I know enough, Viviana,” I say and cup her face, slamming my mouth on hers.
She resists me for a few seconds, trying to push me away, but I deepen the kiss, and the fight leaves her. Curling her fingers into my lapels, she melts into my arms, kissing me back with the same frenzy as if wanting to make up for the last month.
I kiss her until I deprive my lungs of oxygen. There is no escape for me either. Her floral scent permeates the air, driving me wild.
With her glassy eyes and swollen lips from the kisses I can’t abstain from stealing, she looks dazed. Mine.
Chest panting, she slips from my hold, and I let her, just for playing’s sake.
If she runs, I’ll chase. The thought alone makes me hard as granite.
Her brows pinch in confusion. “What is it about you?”
So damn cute.
I smirk, loving that I have this effect on her. “I could ask you the same.”
The most radiant smile paints her face.
“You’re Evie’s brother, an absent one at that.” She scowls as if grasping for things that could keep us apart. She’s so adorably innocent.
“I have my reasons.”
She looks sideways, chewing her bottom lip. “Now what? We simply can’t—”
“Can’t what?”
Stretching out her arm, she gestures between us. “Continue where we left off.”
She takes a step back for every step I take in her direction until her back meets the window—trapped in my lair, flush against my chest.
I palm the glass by her face and lower my head, witnessing her chest falling and rising in rapid breaths.
“Haven’t you heard of personal space?” She huffs, but the sound lacks vigor.
“We eradicated that a while ago.” I chuckle, loving to call out the part of her she keeps hidden from everyone but me.
“I haven’t forgotten.” She rolls her eyes. “No need to remind me.”
“I could also show you.”
A smile teases her lips, and it makes me want to become a fool for her just to witness that delighted look.
“There’s my girl.”
She opens her mouth, surely to contradict me when I pin her with an intent stare. “Don’t contradict me. Or do, and we’ll skip the talk for me to prove it to you.”
Being the smart woman she is, she closes her mouth, pursing her lips. The small rebellious streak puts the biggest grin on my face.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, playing with a strand of her hair, the need to touch her overpowering me. My troubled mind eases. She’s not a figment of my imagination anymore. She’s real. I found her. I got her back.
“Needed a break. Your beach house is beautiful.”
I nod. The only thing I care about is that she likes it.
Inching closer, the floral scent with vanilla notes blends with a scent uniquely hers, intoxicating my senses and making me want to bottle it.