Chapter 15 #2
She smiled, wrinkles creasing like quotation marks around her mouth. “That’s not true. And if I may pass on a word of advice—ogni lasciata è persa (everything left is lost). If you don’t try, you won’t know. Be gentle with her heart, and you’ll reap the rewards of her trust.”
I left Francesca in silence. The only guys I trusted were now scattered around the States, except for Dami.
He was closer than any blood brother could be, though he was born in Jersey to parents who wanted him and six other kids.
I had a pseudomother whose discipline left welts on my back and her husband, who turned his head while it happened. Then there was Father Bernardi.
I was no one’s son, but he was the closest I had to a real parent.
That guy grounded me with guidance. Jesus, he was like a broken record.
Ogni lasciata è persa was his mantra. His way of pushing me into action.
His way of telling me that if I missed out on an opportunity, it’d be gone forever.
Basically, shit or get off the pot, Mancini.
I scrubbed my face while entering the pool room, which had more windows than solid walls. A dark night fell, and I hung back in the shadows as Vivi swam, remembering a past I never dwelled on.
Ogni lasciata è persa. Everything left is lost.
The last time Father Bernardi said it was after a Sunday mass.
During the homily, my attention was centered on Eva Lombardi.
She was two years older, all legs, and had a laugh that made my dick hard.
One summer, her family visited Ravenna, and I wanted her like I hadn’t wanted a girl before.
But I didn’t do a goddamn thing about it.
They left, and I never thought about her again because I didn’t regret my choices. Until Vivienne.
Fresh-faced, innocent Vivienne, with her frosty eyes and hot temper.
From the moment I met that girl, I wanted my hand around her throat.
I wanted her frantic pulse beneath my thumb and her breath against my lips.
I wanted to feel the very essence of her life.
Maybe because for once I was truly alive, so I wanted a taste of everything.
Then I crushed the foolish hope in her eyes because a relationship with me wasn’t possible.
Vivienne was Vigo’s property, and her marriage would be a transaction bridging the two families together, and I had nothing to offer.
A scarred, homeless hit man.
I nearly laughed, but I wiped the disgust from my mouth instead.
Vivi knew this. Still, she stared at my face as though Michelangelo had sculpted me from stone.
Like I was a goddamn god in my own right.
Then she pranced around in that ridiculous suit every damn day, and all I could think about was pushing her up against the wall and slipping my fingers underneath the spandex.
I’d watch the innocence bleed from her eyes as I fingerfucked her into a whimpering mass of need.
Christ. I wanted her so badly, yet nothing had changed.
At least I was honest five years ago. If I touched her, I’d never stop.
So, I broke her heart and watched her from a distance, until it became my job to watch her do laps.
The goddamn absurdity. I couldn’t just stand there, pining like some lovesick fool.
Fuck that. I moved closer. Close enough to watch her sleek silhouette move through the water in a kaleidoscope of color.
The laps went on in a mesmerizing back and forth.
Finally, her head popped up, breath panting through her open mouth as I stared down, willing her to look up.
She didn’t. Not Vivienne. The little minx swam to the side and crossed her arms over the pool edge, so close to where I stood that she soaked my leather Gucci loafers.
A minute later, she pulled herself from the pool, wet and slick, the beautiful lines of her face flawless under the dim lights.
We just stood there, breathing the same air.
Electricity bit into my skin while water beaded and glided over hers.
The longer I looked, the tighter the rope of tension wrapped around my lungs.
Her eyes fell slowly to my dick that strained against the zipper of my slacks, where her gaze remained hot and heavy.
It was so real, as if her smooth hand stroked me from base to crown through the fabric.
Pressure built in my chest. But then she blinked and moved away, her elbow grazing my arm when she brushed by.
I turned and followed her with my eyes. She stopped at the showerhead to rinse away salt from the pool, spandex wedged into her asscheeks.
Steam billowed around her tiny body. Thank Christ, she twisted around, but then my vision was stuck on the long line of her cleavage and those tits as her hands slid from her neck down.
An intense, dark craving burned through my veins.
Something stirred behind my rib cage. Something so strong it shook through my limbs and insisted I go to her, yet I didn’t move but for a low, frustrated breath.
She flipped the faucet, the spray disappeared, and she went to dry off.
Too bad for her, the laundry was done every other day, and on that day, the stack of towels on the shelf was beyond her reach.
Rising to the tips of her toes didn’t gain her any footing.
There wasn’t a stool or chair nearby to stand on, and if she climbed the fucking shelving, with her luck, it’d come down on top of her.
I was born a monster, but Father Bernardi taught me how to be a gentleman.
In some cases, one contradicted the other, yet for Vivienne’s sake, the risk was worth the potential reward.
As I approached, the only sound in the room was my pulse ricocheting between my ears.
I stepped behind her, pressing in close to her body.
She inhaled, the muscles in her shoulders rippling with tension.
“I don’t need your help.”
Sometimes her defiance was amusing; other times it stirred my own contempt.
A combination of both raced through my veins.
I wanted her to be as mixed up as I was—dizzy with need, unsatisfied, and frustrated.
A goddamn recipe for disaster that forced me closer—so close my collar grazed her skin.
I leaned in, my breath wafting over her ear. “Go ahead, then. Get it yourself.”
A shiver rolled down her spine, but she didn’t reach up. Neither did I.
“Well?” she asked.
“Well, what?”
“Aren’t you going to move?”
“No.”
An irritated sound scraped her throat. “Dick.”
I stifled a smile but poked at her temper because I was drawn to the fire. “Talk to me with some respect.”
“Maybe I will when you’ve earned it.”
I laughed softly. A dark humor my monster allowed me to appreciate. But Vivienne craved the darkness, and because of that, she swayed against me. Her back to my front. Heat shot straight to my dick. “What the fuck are you doing?” I snapped.
“Trying to hate you.”
“Try. Harder,” I ground through my teeth.
Instead of a smart answer, she turned around slowly and then looked up through long lashes framing the frost. Frustration died with my next breath.
Wet tendrils of hair framed her face. A pink flush stained her chest. Oxygen escaped my lungs, and I fell forward, crowding her in with my hands gripping the shelves on either side of her body.
Her cool gaze burned beneath lazy lids.
If you don’t try, you won’t know.
My eyes dropped to her mouth.
Just a taste, the monster goaded.
Thank Christ, the man in me was stronger.
“Jesus.” I pushed back, running a hand through my hair. I stared at the white ceiling, the windows, and the purple sky. Standing so close to her was a fucking terrible idea. The fact that she was nearly naked made it a thousand times worse. I grabbed a towel and threw it at her stomach.
“Dry off and put some clothes on for God’s sake. You’re indecent.”
Her nose and brow pinched. “This is my home.”
It didn’t matter that she was right. I was angry. At myself, at Vivienne, at our circumstances. At the fucking world. “And you share it with a hundred men. Eddie is just one—but let me guess. You’re a fucking tease, and you parade around half naked for his attention—”
She stepped forward and poked a finger into my pec. “In case you didn’t notice, I was going swimming, you gigantesco idiota.”
“Trust me, I didn’t see anything of interest.”
Pain flashed in her eyes. Chaos erupted in my chest, my heart and lungs constricting.
What I wanted was to pull her into me and hold her there with my hand in her hair and her nose in my neck.
I’d soothe her until the sting was gone, assuring her that on most days, she was all I ever saw and that her beauty stole my breath.
It was just—this wasn’t the life mapped out for us.
Still, I never wanted to be the cause of her pain.
“Vivi—”
“Don’t.” She clenched the towel to her tits with one hand, the other going up to ward off further dialogue. “Just stay away from me.”
An ache stabbed through my gut. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Try. Harder.” After using my words against me, she knocked into my arm and walked away with her head high.
I rubbed my neck, watching her go. Always watching. Never touching when that’s all I ever wanted to do. I kept my eyes on her until she disappeared around the door; then I followed with Father Bernardi’s words echoing in my mind.
His advice got me through the darkest moments of my life.
I could have stayed in Ravenna, walking the streets at night, because somehow the sun hurt like hell when it met my skin.
Most days, I wanted to curl into a ball and die under the weight of Anna’s belt.
Then I promised Father Bernardi I would try to live.
The only way to do that was to leave. To see the sunrise on the other side of the continent and the world.
It didn’t take long before I found a purpose.
If I had stayed in Ravenna, I wouldn’t have known what was beyond those dark nights.
Vivienne was my light.
I scrubbed my face, then focused on her swaying hips.
She was also a dangerous distraction that would get a man like me killed, but my steps never faltered.
There were worse ways to die.