Chapter 15
Evelyn
My core pulses with arousal, an aching beat. I’ve only ever felt this once before: during my illicit dream about the dark stranger who came to my rescue. I’d awoken, tormented by guilt for betraying George in my subconscious.
My stomach sours, and I ease farther away from Massimo.
He could easily keep me close, but he allows me to put distance between us.
Even as I feel sick with an echo of my misguided guilt, my body burns for him. For a brief, breathtaking moment, his lush lips nearly brushed mine. A forbidden part of me craves his seduction, but that desire is wrong. Crazy.
“What’s wrong, farfallina?” he murmurs, eyes molten undeniable lust.
I shake my head. “I can’t do this. It’s just…” How can I put my roiling emotions into words? “It’s too much.”
I hate the churning in my gut. I have no reason to feel guilty, but I can’t quite shake the awful feeling.
George. The man I thought I would marry. We’d planned to spend the rest of our lives together. He’s always wanted to be a DEA agent, a force for good in this world. And I intended to be his most ardent supporter, his devoted wife. I would’ve sacrificed anything for him.
I have sacrificed for him. I gave up my job at the university. I isolated myself in that tiny apartment.
And even before then, I gave up all career aspirations of my own to follow him to Mexico. I left my Fine Art degree collecting dust so that I could support his noble dreams.
But there’s nothing noble about George. He sold his loyalties to a cartel. He stood by and watched as a man pulled a gun on me. I’d be dead if Massimo hadn’t saved me.
“You should take it off,” Massimo growls, his dark brows drawn into harsh slashes over his glittering eyes.
“What?” I ask, following the direction of his glower.
I realize I’m fiddling with my engagement ring, spinning the small diamond around my finger as anxiety ravages me.
I clench my hand into a fist, instinctively refusing to take it off. I’ve worn my ring ever since George proposed two years ago, on the day we graduated from college. It’s been a constant sign of his pledge to love me forever, a love that no one else has ever offered me. Not even my parents.
A sense of utter loneliness crushes my heart.
Was any of it real?
“You don’t belong to him,” Massimo insists. “Take it off.”
“It’s not that simple,” I protest.
If I take off the ring, I’ll be accepting the awful reality of my current circumstances. I’ll have to fully acknowledge the depth of George’s betrayal.
How long has he been corrupt?
I remember how fervently he expressed his desire to be an agent back when we were freshmen at college. Surely, he hadn’t been lying to me then. Surely, every moment we’ve shared hasn’t been a lie.
My heart can’t bear the loss. Not only the loss of six wasted years with him, but also the loss of the future I’d envisioned for us in Albuquerque.
My whole world is crumbling around me. The ring is heavy on my finger, an anchor tethering me to sanity.
If I take it off, I’ll be adrift, without direction or purpose.
Supporting George’s dreams has been my passion; his happiness has been my only concern in life.
If my fiancé is content and fulfilled, that’s enough to sustain me.
Before meeting him, I’d been alone.
I can’t endure that loneliness again. My family has never cared about me. But George does. He loves me.
Doesn’t he?
If I’d tried to save her, they would’ve killed me too.
Hot tears spill down my cheeks, the floodgates opening. Maybe George loved me once, but not anymore.
He would’ve left me for dead in that basement. He would’ve allowed me to be gunned down right in front of him without a word of protest.
My ring finger burns, as though the gold band is coated in acid. With a soft sob, I yank the small diamond off my finger and toss it away.
Massimo’s arms close around me. For a moment, I stiffen at the embrace of a man who isn’t my fiancé.
But I don’t owe George my loyalty.
And even if Massimo is refusing to let me leave, I can’t deny that there’s truth in his warnings about what will happen to me if I try to go to the authorities in Mexico City for help.
I’m caged in his strong arms, but I don’t feel like his captive.
For now, he’s the only person in the world who seems to give a damn about my safety.
I tuck my face close to his broad chest, breathing him in.
He murmurs a soothing stream of Italian while he tenderly strokes my hair.
I don’t understand the words, but the rumbling cadence lulls me into a sense of security.
His powerful body enfolds mine, his imposing frame more than strong enough to protect me from harm.
I feel small and achingly vulnerable, but I’m not afraid. Not of him.
He holds me while I cry. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, the regular, deep pulse beating in a hypnotic rhythm. After a while, my breaths slow to match his, and my own thundering heartbeat regulates. I sniffle, and he brushes the final tear from my damp cheek.
His face is mere inches from mine, those sensual lips soft and tempting…
“You need to eat, dolcezza,” he chides, and I suddenly realize that my stomach aches with hunger.
I haven’t eaten since dinner last night, before I’d gone to the bar with George’s colleagues. Before the man had tried to roofie me. Before I’d snuck out into the night and overheard George’s traitorous conversation. Before…
“Eat,” Massimo urges, pulling away from me so that I can finally face breakfast.
I take a breath and force away the dark memories, crushing my emotions into a tight ball and shoving them deep in my chest. I never allow myself to fall apart the way I just wept in Massimo’s arms. It’d been an awful moment of weakness, and I have to pull myself together.
I’ve accepted the painful fact that George is corrupt, but I’m far from resigned to my fate. Massimo won’t hurt me, and I have no doubt that he’ll do anything to protect me—he’s proven that so many times already.
But my dark savior is a criminal, no matter how tenderly he treats me. No matter how his touch sets my body on fire.