3. Lelia
Chapter 3
Lelia
T he dim light of the moon filters through the blinds of the small, lavish bedroom. It’s home to me and has been all my life. But now, as I look out the window, I realize there’s more to it than I thought.
Life.
It’s filled with broken pieces of who we all are. What we believe molds us, but it doesn’t fully tell the story. Last night I learned the truth. Growing up in a place where you’re told what to think, who to love, who to hate, has focused my emotions, but it’s also forced me to put a guard up.
That is until him.
The glow of the silvery moon casts elongated shadows over the furniture. A cold breeze sweeps through the open window, rustling the expensive silk curtains Mother wanted for the room. The air is thick with tension, the kind that could snap at any moment.
I stand at the window, my back to the door. I know it’s locked because I twisted the key myself. Mother won’t walk in suddenly, and neither will my father. He’s in meetings, planning the death of some or the other mafia Boss.
I turn to the room and make my way into the walk-in closet. I don’t know what I should wear. I know he’ll be here soon and my heart seems to have picked up the cadence of my nerves. Thrumming wildly, my chest feels like a cage. My breaths are short, quick. It’s what he does to me.
Once I slip on the dark green shorts and a loose-fitting tank top, I head back into my room and to the balcony door. It’s ajar, enough for him to know it’s safe. If I shut my eyes and focus, I can hear the trellis beside my room squeak. It’s not loud enough to wake the guard dogs but also not enough to alarm the security detail my father insists I have.
I reach for the cool pane of glass and allow my fingers to trail along the see-through window. I want the coldness to steady my racing heart, but it doesn’t. Nothing can prepare me for him.
I can hear his movements now, slow but deliberate as he makes his way closer.
“Lia,” he whispers into the dark. “Lia, my forbidden. Where are you?”
I can’t help but smile.
Don’t make a sound , I tell myself. Don’t give in to the temptation of his charm . But my body betrays me, and it’s as if I’m drawn by an invisible force. I step out onto the balcony and look over the balustrade. There he is. The eyes that steal my breath, the face that causes my heart to thud against my ribs.
“I didn’t think you would be here so soon,” I tell him in a hushed whisper.
“Step back,” he orders and swiftly climbs up and over, onto the landing where I’m standing. He’s so close, I can smell his expensive, spicy cologne as it invades my nostrils.
Domenico stands there, watching me as if I’m the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. As if I’m on display and he can’t tear his eyes away.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I tell him earnestly, but I know I would run after him if he were to walk away right now. I can’t explain why, but my heart aches when I think of him being far from me.
“Did you want me to leave?” he challenges, his head tipped to the side, a smirk curling his full lips. Those dark eyes pinned on mine, not releasing their hold on me.
“No.” It’s honest, raw, and I feel so immature. There’s nothing I want him to know about me that makes me feel like I’m not good enough. But with Domenico, there’s something different. He doesn’t look at me like the rest of the boys do. He’s different . And I don’t know how to handle that.
“Then I won’t leave, but I can’t get you out of my mind, Lia.” He takes a step toward me, and the moment he does, his body is flush with mine. His hand reaches for my face, and he cups it gently.
All my life I’ve been led to believe this man and his family were dangerous. I have no doubt they are, but my father ensured I knew I had to hate them. And for a long time, I did. Only because it was something I was taught. Which makes me wonder how many wars started because children were forced to believe the things their parents did.
“You can’t be here,” I tell him then, shaking the cloud of want and desire from my mind. I move inside, leaving him on the balcony. I know he’ll follow. I stop in the warmth of my bedroom and turn to face him.
Domenico stands there, framed in the doorway, his sharp eyes glinting with an unreadable expression. He is no longer just the enemy that my family hate, no longer just the man I should want dead. He is the man who makes my heart beat too fast, the one who stirs something within me that I can’t control.
He takes a step closer, his presence overwhelming my senses. Every inch of him is a reminder of what they couldn’t have. We are meant to be enemies. The family feud is centuries old, and if my father did find him in my bedroom, all hell would break loose.
I take a long, deep breath and attempt to steady my voice when I speak. “What are you doing here? I thought you were only going to come tonight. It’s not dark out yet.”
He watches me for a long moment before he closes the distance between us. It’s a slow, deliberate step, but when he reaches her, he pauses.
He’s standing so close that I can feel the heat of his body radiating toward mine.
“You’re supposed to hate me,” he finally whispers, his voice low, rough around the edges, like gravel grinding against stone. He’s only a few years older than me, but he makes me feel as if we’re equals.
He reaches a hand to my cheek, the touch so tender, it’s as if he believes I’m fragile. My breath catches in my throat. I know the words are true—he is from the family that has been at war with mine for so long. But surely that can end. All wars can end, if only the people who are in charge will agree senseless killing is pure stupidity. But I doubt my father, or his, would ever see it our way.
“I know,” I tell him finally. Hate and love are two strong emotions, on either end of the spectrum, but there’s a fine line between them. One that can be severed so easily. “I have tried to hate you since the moment I first saw you.”
It’s true. Yet the feeling that has taken root inside me, something dangerous and forbidden, can’t be ignored.
That’s when Domenico leans in and presses his lips to mine. It’s a gentle, innocent kiss, but it means more to me than I can ever imagine.
I should push him away. I should let the anger and the loyalty to my family control me. But instead, all I can do is look up at him. My voice trembles with a mixture of fear and desire. “Domenico, we can’t do this.”
“I can’t stop myself from wanting to be with you,” he tells me. The honesty shines in his dark eyes. His hair falls over one eye, and he looks so much like a fallen angel—handsome but also so deadly. He can so easily hurt me right now, and nobody would be the wiser because my parents aren’t aware of his presence.
“You have to be loyal to your family,” I whisper, trying to fight the heat that’s slowly creeping up to my cheeks. I’m sure I’m blushing as he swipes a stray hair from my face.
“Then why does it feel like I’d kill for you?” he murmurs, his words barely audible in the electric air hovering between them.
Domenico’s eyes flicker, his lips parting slightly as though his confession has struck him in some unexpected way. It’s my turn to run my fingers over his face, feeling the stubble as I reach his perfectly angular jaw.
His big, strong hand cups my face, and he holds me steady. His touch is gentle despite the storm raging in those dark eyes.
“You think I don’t feel it?” he asks, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “Every damn day, all I want is to hold you, to make you see that this… this war between us… it doesn’t have to be this way.”
I shake my head, my breath catching in my throat. I want to scream, to push him away, to remind him that they are enemies. But I also have to tell him that I’ve been promised to another man. That this … this could never be.
But in the depths of my heart, I can’t ignore the truth that slammed into me the moment I first laid my eyes on Domenico. It sounds like a childish crush. I don’t believe in love at first sight . But I can’t deny this pull toward him. How every moment of the day, my thoughts drift to him.
“What if we did fight it?” I ask, my voice barely a breath. “What if we threw it all away and ran? We can pack our bags tonight and leave this place, find a home somewhere far from the obligations of our families.”
Domenico’s gaze softens as he regards me. The reality of our situation lingers between us, heavy in the air. “I’d do anything for you, Lia. But you know this isn’t something we can just run from.”
I close my eyes, allowing the heat of his words to wash over me. Even as the warning bells ring in my mind, I fall into his arms. His chest is chiseled. I can feel the muscles, how the rise and fall causes me to move with him. As if we’re one.
“You don’t understand,” I whisper. “I’m supposed to run, to scream for help when I see you because I know you can kill me, but every time I look at you, it feels like… I’m drowning.” I pull away and allow my gaze to lock on his.
The words hang between us, raw and exposed. Domenico’s expression hardens, and he steps back, his jaw tightening with a mix of what looks like frustration and longing.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said quietly, his eyes dark as they bore into me. It’s as if he’s trying to see my soul. “But every moment I’m near you, it’s like I’m losing myself, and I don’t want to be the enemy.”
My heart breaks at the truth of his words. I feel the weight of it too— the impossible reality of what we are.
And yet, standing there in the quiet darkness of the room, with only the moon as our witness, the truth is undeniable: I didn’t just want him. I needed him.
“Even though I know this is wrong and we shouldn’t be here, that our stolen moments together should not happen anymore, I can’t stop them. Because I don’t want to lose you,” I whisper. The words are a confession, a plea for more. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
Domenico reaches for me then, his hand brushing against my cheek with a tenderness that makes my knees go weak.
“I know,” he murmured. “What if… what if this is what true love is? Something you can’t fight no matter how hard you try. I have to leave soon, but tomorrow, meet me on the roof of St. Peter’s, the church in the square. Please?”
For a moment, we stand there, suspended in time, the world outside forgotten. Domenico pulls me into his arms, and I close my eyes, listening to the thrumming of his heart. Mine beats in sync with his. With every thud, it pulls us closer to the forbidden truth that neither of us can escape.
“Okay,” is all I can whisper into the soft material of his shirt.
We are trapped between love and loyalty. The pull between desire and duty is strong, and I doubt either of us knows which side we will choose.