10. Lelia
Chapter 10
Lelia
I t wasn’t part of my plan to come here. When I woke up this morning, I wasn’t going to meet him. I know I have to get over this strange connection, this infatuation with Domenico Montesano. It’s nothing more than a mistake that should never have happened. It serves me right for running off and kissing random strangers.
Instead of answering his question, I ignore it because if I were to be honest, he doesn’t scare me at all. I don’t think that’s something he would like. As the Underboss, he should scare me.
“My father has confirmed my engagement,” I tell him instead, even though I know he saw us last night. He was the shadow, watching, waiting.
“You don’t belong with him,” Domenico throws back before I have time to consider my next words. I glance at him, taking him in while there’s still light. Last night, he was bathed in shadows, in darkness, and now, I can see the man who stole my first kiss.
He’s grinning as I take him in. Perhaps he knows I’m staring. And I’m certain he doesn’t care. He looks like a bad boy from some teenage romance movie. He looks nothing like a man set to rule his mafia familia.
“And what makes you think you’re an expert on who I belong with or not?”
“Because last night when I kissed you, I made that pretty little pussy wet and needy,” he tells me, causing me to blush furiously. “And I know that if I were to do it again, those pristine little panties you’re wearing would be soaked.”
“Sex isn’t the be-all and end-all of a relationship,” I throw back, embarrassed that he’s right. I don’t want him to know it, but I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I can say that will stop his mind from wandering down that road.
He is a man.
He’s more experienced than I am.
“So,” he says, leaning forward as if he’s about to whisper a secret to me. “Did you not go to bed last night and touch yourself while remembering our kiss?” The challenge that flashes in his eyes makes my cheeks burn. The guilt that must be dancing in my eyes I can’t hide. “I thought so.”
Satisfaction paints his face like a breathtaking canvas. Domenico is inhumanely beautiful. A square jaw, a slight dusting of stubble, his brown eyes are the color of hot chocolate. His lips are full, pink, as if they’d been stung by bees. Perfectly curved to make any girl drool.
His hands are smooth, long fingers that I’m sure are expertly trained to get girls to drop to their knees. And then, there are those long, lean muscles that make up his solid frame. He isn’t packed with muscle; it’s underlying, as if hidden to ensure he can lure his prey in.
He’s built for sin.
And he’s made for violence.
The perfect man to take over as Boss when his father retires. I overheard Cassio and my father talking this morning. They’re convinced the announcement of Mr. Montesano’s choice to step down will come soon.
“Why did you come?” I ask him as we sit in the strange silence of the graveyard. I wonder if my ancestors can hear us. They would be rolling in their graves knowing I’m sitting with our mortal enemy.
“I needed to know you were okay,” he tells me, but he doesn’t meet my questioning gaze. As much as I want it on me, I realize it’s for the best. “And for some reason, I couldn’t get you out of my head.”
“That’s not a good thing.”
“No shit,” he throws back with a chuckle that’s deep and throaty.
“I should not be in your head,” I tell him, knowing I can’t be the person who hurts others. “This is a mistake.” Pushing to my feet, I want to walk away, but Domenico is fast. He moves so swiftly, his hand is on my arm before I can even take a step.
“Don’t,” he commands. It’s not a plea. I doubt he’s ever had to beg for anything in his whole life. There’s a confidence in him that tells me he always gets what he wants. And the way he’s looking at me right now confirms he wants me. Just like he said. “Stay.”
The word skitters over my skin. Every inch of me burning up from want. His fingers hold on to me, the contact searing right through my flesh. He could be doing this to hurt me. We’re enemies.
“Why?”
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he tugs me toward him and I stumble on a broken branch, which sends me flying into his chest. Warmth soothes me for a moment before I realize we’re once again in the position we were last night.
“You know we can’t do this,” I tell him. “Nothing we say here today will change who we are.” The sadness that tinges my voice startles me. “I’m engaged.”
“To an old bastard who is the same age as your father,” he sneers, and I realize he saw everything last night. I don’t want to think about what that man will do to me. He’s known to be violent. Even though they are rumors, I have a feeling that may have some truth to it.
“I just?—”
“You do realize your father is marrying you off to a monster,” Domenico says, and I nod. “He may have some sway in guns and weaponry, but he’s not a nice man.”
“This life doesn’t have any nice men in it,” I tell him. My perception comes from seeing my own family, watching the men who work for my father. I’m not a na?ve little girl. I used to be, but I’ve eavesdropped on my father one too many times.
The stories aren’t those that put you to bed at night.
They’re the ones that leave you with nightmares.
“And you think I’m one of those not nice men?” Domenico questions, his mouth quirking into a grin. I want to say no, but he’s still very much a stranger to me. Even though when I look in his eyes, I don’t see the danger that usually follows a Made Man.
“I can’t answer that.”
“Fair enough.” He shrugs it off, but I can tell he’s disappointed. “What if I told you I wanted to kiss you right now? And what I if I asked permission before doing it?” There’s no hint of a joke in his voice, and I can’t help but smile.
“Fine.”
This makes him chuckle and I decide I like the sound of his laugh. But as I look up at him, my heart aches. I can’t be with someone of my choosing, and nothing I do now, nothing I say, will change that.
“What’s running through that pretty head of yours?” Domenico asks as he grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger. He tilts my head so I’m looking into his eyes. I could get lost in the soft brown. But I blink back the thoughts because I need to focus.
“Nothing.”
“You’re a bad liar,” he tells me easily. “I don’t like liars.”
“Well, you shouldn’t even be talking to me. I’m a Vitale.”
“Are you that proud of your name that you’d openly admit to being part of a family of monsters?” he throws out, catching me off guard. But I can’t fight him on it because I know what my father has done. There’s no denying that he is truly evil.
“They are monsters,” I concede, “but I’m not one.”
Domenico leans in closer, his lips feathering over mine, and my stomach tumbles, while my heart beats a rhythm of wild abandon. I want him. I don’t care who he is, what his name is, and what color blood runs through his veins.
I once heard my father call them black-blooded. It was one of the worst insults I had ever heard. But then, I suppose when you’re hateful to someone, it came out just the way my father wanted it to.
Domenico doesn’t ask permission. He claims my lips with his in the next second. His body molds to mine. The gentle way his tongue explores me makes my thighs squeeze together. His hands trail over my shoulders, down to my ass, where he lifts me against him. My legs wrap around his waist, and he walks us into the tomb.
I’m up against the wall, where I’m pinned between his body and the cold concrete, which does nothing to chill the heat that’s racing through me. His lips steal every whimper from my mouth. His hardness is apparent, which doesn’t calm the coiling serpent asleep in my gut.
I’m wet.
I’m turned on.
I’ve touched myself, made myself feel good in the dead of night. But nothing could prepare me for how Domenico sparks a fire inside me.
“I want you so much,” he whispers along my lips, the heat of his breath fanning over my face. He tastes like mint and Domenico. The masculine flavor of him is heady, intoxicating me before I have time to think.
“I want you too,” I moan when he grinds his hips against me, sending arousal flooding my body, as if I’d just been injected with drugs. Every nerve in my body is alive, an electric current coursing through my veins.
“Little Montesano.” The voice of my cousin cuts through the desire, and Domenico goes cold against me. It’s as if a switch has been flicked and the desire he felt seconds ago is all gone.
His gaze pins me to the wall, much like his body just did. “What is your cousin doing here?” he hisses, accusation clear in his eyes.
“I don’t know,” I tell him in a whisper. I don’t know how Cassio found us. I made sure I wasn’t followed, but Domenico doesn’t look like he believes me.
He glances over his shoulder, listening for footsteps, but it’s quiet for now. He turns back to me, his eyes black as night as he regards me. “Are you sure?”
“I told you, I’m not a monster,” I bite out, anger taking hold of me now. I may be a Vitale, but I’ve never hurt anyone before.
“I know you’re here, and when I find you, I’ll gut you like a fucking fish,” Cassio calls out, sending ice racing down my spine, causing me to shiver.
“This isn’t over,” Domenico promises before he turns on his heel and makes his way out of the back entrance of the tomb. The cold concrete feels like needles piercing me right through the heart.
When he’s gone, I take two long, deep breaths before I step out into the open. Cassio’s gaze finds me quickly. I notice he has three of his soldiers with him. They all look at me as if I’m a ghost. An apparition they weren’t expecting.
“What are you doing here?” Cassio asks.
“I was visiting the family tomb,” I tell him easily. The lie not burning my tongue like I expected it to. “Is there something wrong with that?”
“You should have guards with you,” Cassio replies, ignoring the question I’ve asked him. I don’t bother responding to him. I make my way toward the exit, praying I have distracted them enough to forget they’d been searching for Domenico.
Before I can get away, though, Cassio’s hand snaps out, gripping my arm in a stranglehold. “Let go of me, cugino .” I use the Italian word for cousin, but he isn’t stupid. He’ll hear the wobble in my voice.
He leans in close. His hot breath on my ear doesn’t have the same effect on me that Domenico’s warmth did. “If I find out that filthy bastard put his hands on you, cugina, ” Cassio sneers in my ear, spitting the word I used, “I’ll cut you both into ribbons.” The threat is clear, and I don’t doubt that he will keep to his word.
I don’t look at him. I don’t breathe. “Let me go.”
He releases me and I make my way out of the graveyard before I breathe again. My pulse is thrumming wildly in my neck and I wonder if Cassio saw it. He’s trained to read people, and I don’t doubt I may have just given Domenico away.