Chapter 40
Evelyn
One Week Later
The sun shines on Massimo’s golden skin, his muscular chest on full display. My body heats for him, and I’m grateful for the cool breeze created by the forward motion of the speedboat. He wraps one arm around me and steers the boat with his other hand. I lean into him in complete contentment.
To our right, the island of Capri rises from the sea, ancient rock jutting up from the water.
The lush greenery is dotted with pastel villas and clusters of shops.
As we round the small island, the iconic Faraglioni formation appears before us: three massive, blue-gray rocks emerging from the azure sea.
Massimo slows the boat so that we cruise peacefully toward the arch in the center of one of the rocks. It looks small at a distance, but as we near the massive landmarks, I realize that the arch forms a large enough passage for our boat to glide through it.
I lift my camera and capture the imposing sight, taking a dozen shots of the scenery before my focus is drawn inexorably back to my dark savior. He chuckles ruefully and places a hand on top of my camera, gently urging me to lower it.
“You can’t photograph me all the time,” he chides. “No one will want to buy those pictures.”
I defy him with a sly smile, lifting my Canon again to capture his sun-kissed face and flashing eyes. Their silvery blue mirrors the sea, like the glittering sunlight that dances on the water.
“Who says I’m selling my art? What if I’m selfish enough to keep these images for myself?”
He laughs again, and the rich sound rolls through me in a wave of warm happiness.
“All right, farfallina. You can keep the pictures of me for your own private use.” He tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear, and I blush at his implication. “But don’t you want to share your art with the world?”
My heart lifts at the thought.
“I don’t know if I’m good enough,” I admit. “I’ve always dreamed of having my photographs in a gallery somewhere, but that will take years of work to build a reputation for myself.”
He curls 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 press, wishing him equal happiness.
“You,” he replies, and the single word resonates through my soul.
I flush with pleasure but push a bit more, “What do you want for your future? You have me already.”
He takes 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 cups my nape, his 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 blink up at him in surprise. “You were in prison?”
He nods grimly. “For two years, from sixteen to eighteen.”
“What were you arrested for?” I’m not sure if I want to know, but I crave 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 shrugs as though it doesn’t bother him, but I note the tension around his eyes.
“Everyone gets locked up sooner or later. I don’t intend to repeat the experience. ”
He kisses 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 aches for him, for the desperate circumstances that shaped him. I understand his need to dominate me now. He’s never felt fully in control of his life, and controlling my pleasure brings him a sense of satisfaction and peace.
I’ll gladly give him my body in any way he desires if it eases some of his burdens. We’ll find our freedom together.
He pulls me close and steers the boat toward the arch in the rock.
“Kiss me,” he murmurs against my lips. “It’s good luck.”
I can hardly believe that I’ve been lucky enough to meet this wonderful man, and he’s all mine.
I tip my head back and offer myself to him, pledging my future to him with every caress of my tongue against his. He deepens the kiss as we pass beneath the shadow of the arch, laying claim to everything I promise and making silent vows of his own.
I try to stop my jaw from hanging open as Massimo leads me through the pedestrian streets of Capri; it takes effort not to gawk at the beauty of the setting and the luxury items that fill the shop windows.
He already insisted on buying me a new dress, and a pair of large diamond studs now adorn my ears.
We approach an empty shop, and a woman greets us in front of the glass door.
Massimo introduces us both, so it’s clear that the woman is mostly a stranger to him. My brow is still pinched with puzzlement when she unlocks the door and gestures for us to enter.
“Call me when you’re finished, and I’ll lock up whenever you leave,” she says warmly. “Take your time. I’ll give you some privacy, and I’m happy to accommodate any further requests.”
Massimo thanks her, takes my hand, and guides me into the empty space.
“What are we doing here?” I ask, confused.
He spreads his arms wide to encompass the large, bare space. “Do you like it?”
“The location is beautiful,” I reply, uncertain what to say.
He chuckles and pulls me close. “It’s for you. This will be your gallery if you want it.”
“What?” I’m not sure if I heard him correctly.
“I’ll buy it for you,” he elaborates. “But if you don’t like the space, we’ll find somewhere else.”
I shake my head, my eyes stinging. “It’s too much.”
He captures my cheeks in both hands, holding me as though I’m his most precious treasure. “Nothing is too much for you.”
“But I didn’t earn it,” I protest.
My heart tugs toward his. I want to accept, but I can’t quite shake the lingering sense of unworthiness.
His expression turns 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.”
“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 rush from me in a burst of pure emotion.
His eyes widen with awe for a fraction of a second before he crushes his lips to mine, as though he wants to taste the promise of my devotion on my tongue.
He steps toward me, never breaking our kiss as he directs me into the privacy of the back room, away from the large shop window where passersby might see us. He pushes me up against the wall and shoves my dress over my thighs.
“Tell me again,” he commands, grabbing my pussy in a rough, possessive grip.
“I love you,” I moan, rocking my hips into his hand, seeking stimulation.
My clit pulses with pleasure as he grinds his palm against it, his fingers dipping between my slick folds. I’m ready for him, desperate to feel him inside me, making love to me. I feel 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 growls into my mouth, lavishing me with hungry kisses.
He rotates his hand against my sensitive flesh, and I cry out at the burst of pleasure.
“Your whore is beautiful, but I’d rather see my hands on her.”
I yelp at the new, unfamiliar voice. Massimo whirls, placing his massive body between me and the crass stranger.
Five men crowd into the back room with us. They’re all armed, and the one at the center of the group—the man who’d spoken—holds a gun trained on Massimo’s heart.
I cringe at the sight of his scarred face, which is twisted in a maniacal leer.
He jerks his chin in the direction of the back wall, and I note the open door for the first time. It leads into a darkened space, and I glimpse 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 snarls, his huge body swelling with protective rage. “You’re a dead man, Rocco.”
Our assailant barks a cruel laugh. “Who’s holding the gun here?
” he challenges. “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 growls, and my heart skips a beat. “I should’ve ended you that day. You will not touch Evelyn.”
Rocco sneers. “I think you’ll find that I will touch her as much as I want.” He nods in the direction of the basement again. “Go on. Or I’ll make it hurt worse.”
Massimo reaches for me, taking my hand in a vise grip. “It will be okay, farfallina,” he promises. “I’ll keep you safe.”
I wish I could believe him, but even he isn’t capable of surviving a bullet to the heart.
“I’ll go with you,” I tell the monster who’d murdered his parents. “Don’t hurt Massimo.”
Rocco grins at me, a horrific baring of teeth. “Watching you scream will hurt him a lot more than shooting him.”
My blood runs cold, and I shudder in revulsion. I look at the four men who surround him, desperately searching for any sign of hesitation or mercy.
I find none. I read my death in their cold eyes, and Rocco’s insane leer tells me that he will enjoy extracting every second of my suffering.