Chapter 4
Massimo
She’s beautiful up close. Last night, in the haze of music and dim lights, she was stunning. But here, standing in a white dress, her dark lashes lowered, her voice quiet but steady, she’s divine.
Too fucking good for me. To fucking pure for me.
And yet, I want to ruin her.
"Nice to meet you, Maria," I say, my voice slow, deliberate.
I notice the slight catch in her breath. The way she grips her hands together, like she’s holding something back.
Interesting.
"She come back home now, and will finish the last few weeks here." Father Dominic continues proudly. "She teaches Sunday school, volunteers—"
"An angel," my father muses.
I chuckle under my breath. She’ll be my angel.
Maria’s face reddens, but she says nothing.
And that’s when I know.
She feels it too.
This weird pull between us. The wrongness of it. The temptation. It might be wrong for her, but to me it’s playing on the line of good and evil.
Father Dominic glances toward my father, continuing their conversation about community efforts he would like to work on, and my father nodding like he cares.
But Maria’s eyes find mine again.
And I swear, for just a second she isn’t praying for strength.
She’s praying for me to stop looking at her.
I keep my face composed, my hands folded in front of me, but inside I’m unraveling.
Wanting to touch her, to taste what a pure innocent girl who’s never been touched tastes like.
The heavy wooden doors of the church creak as we step outside, sunlight slicing through the morning air. The scent of incense still clings to my clothes, but it does nothing to cleanse me. Nothing ever will.
Not even church air will clean me from the things I’ll do. One day, stepping inside might burn me.
My father walks beside me, nodding to parishioners, shaking hands, exchanging pleasantries like a proper businessman, like a respectable man.
It’s all a fucking act, one which I will have to prefect myself.
I follow, hands in my pockets, but my mind is somewhere else. On her. Maria.
I feel her eyes on my back, I don’t turn, I need her to wonder. To think about me when she lays her head on her pillow tonight.
Sebastian falls into step next to me. "That was unexpected," he mutters, glancing over his shoulder.
I know what he means. He saw the way she reacted. The way she looked at me like she was standing too close to a flame but couldn’t move away. The famous saying, the moth to the flame.
"Unexpected?" I grin. "No. It was inevitable."
Sebastian snorts, shoving his hands into his suit pockets. "You going to start praying next??" The loud laugh escaping him, even has me smiling.
“I’ve got better things to worship.”
I don’t believe in fate.
But I do believe in getting what I want.
And I want Maria.
We all walk into the house. I take my suit jacket off and throw it on the couch.
Mom and Camilla start talking about some shopping trip they have planned, my father sits in silence, checking his phone. Already thinking about business, the shipment. Maybe I should be thinking about it, but there is only one thing on my mind.
I lean back, tilting my head back. I glance over at my father. "You asked about marriage."
Silence.
My mother stops mid-sentence, turning her head sharply. Camilla’s mouth parts slightly, eyes widening. Luca, across from me, raises an eyebrow but stays quiet.
My father doesn’t react at first. He’s a man who values patience. Control. Power. So, I know I have to give him a moment to think about what he wants to say to me.
Slowly, he puts his phone down, slips it into his pocket, and meets my eyes. "Did we?"
My lips curl slightly. "Yes, you did."
He studies me for a long moment then nods once. "And in the small time since the conversation this morning, you’ve had a change of heart?”
"I have," I agree. "But I already have the girl I want." If this is happening, it’s to have a woman next to me, but it will be the one I choose, not him.
He leans back, crossing one leg over the other, tapping his fingers in a slow rhythm on his knee. "Go on."
"Maria."
His fingers stop tapping. Silence falls in the room. My mother exhales sharply, like she’s just been slapped. Camilla looks between us, her eyes narrowing like she can’t believe what she just heard, and my brother, well he has the biggest smug smile on his face I think I’ve ever seen.
My father, though he just watches me. Then, after what feels like an eternity, he chuckles.
"Maria Rossi?" he muses, shaking his head. "The priest’s niece?"
"That’s right."
"That’s a bold choice."
"I don’t give a fuck."
He grins. A proud, wicked grin that tells me he’s impressed, that I just played the game right. My mother, however, is not impressed.
She sighs heavily, pressing her fingers to her temples. "Massimo," she warns. "That girl is not—"
"She’s perfect." I say it too fast, like if I don’t, she’ll ruin the moment.
The smirk on my father’s face widens. "And does she want you?"
I tilt my head. "She will."
He laughs. A full, deep laugh. "You’re my son, alright."
My mother shakes her head, like she’s praying for divine intervention. Too late for that.
I know a church girl is the last thing my mother wants, she already hates half the things we do, Maria will hate them all.
My father nods, a decision made. "If she’s the one you want, then we’ll make it happen."
A dark satisfaction blooms in my chest.
Because Maria Rossi is mine.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
The bell echoes through the stone halls of Blackstone Academy, sharp and cold like everything else in this place.
This building is so old, my great grandad came to this college.
I’m sure if the walls could talk, the stories would be full of blood.
Back in those days, there were no rules about fighting on college grounds like there are now.
The only ones who would try to fight me are the Irish, maybe even the Russians, but they both know we have more power than they do.
I don’t look at any of them. Not the girls who pretend not to stare, not the boys who step aside like I might slit their throat if they breathe wrong.
My mind is elsewhere. It’s been three days since I saw her. Maria, the priest’s niece. The girl in white, her eyes promising to save me and destroy me in the same breath.
I planned to wait longer, let her wonder why I watched her like a starving man. But today, when I walked through the Academy gates, I saw her. I knew she was Jo’s friend and had been at the party, but I didn’t realize she was a student here.
Something inside me snapped. She doesn’t belong here; I can see it clear as day.
The way she keeps her head down, books clutched to her chest like a shield.
Her skirt is longer than the ones the others wear, blouse buttoned all the way to her throat.
But it won’t protect her. Not here, and not from me.
I watch her from across the courtyard, as I lean against the wall, one booted foot crossed casually over the other, cigarette burning between my fingers.
She’s talking to someone. O’Brien. Of course.
Liam knows his place. Or at least he used to.
Right now, he’s standing too close to Maria, leaning in, smiling at her like he’s got any fucking right to.
I push off the wall, flick the cigarette away, and start walking toward them. When I reach them, Maria glances up, and her lips part slightly.
O’Brien’s smile drops when he sees me. "Messina," he says coolly, nodding like we’re friends. We’re not.
"Liam." My voice is flat, uninterested. My eyes never leave Maria. "Didn’t realize you were giving out charity today," I tell her.
Liam’s jaw tightens. "We were talking, so fuck off."
I drag my gaze lazily over Maria, letting her feel it. Her grip tightens on her books, but she doesn’t turn away.
"Maria," I say smoothly, taking a step closer. "Didn’t expect to see you here." Her lips press together like she’s deciding whether to speak.
"I transferred last week," she says quietly. Her voice is soft, but there’s steel under it.
"You should’ve told me." My words are pointed, intentional. Like we’re something. Like she owes me that information.
Her eyebrows pull together slightly, confusion flickering in her dark eyes.
"We don’t know each other," she says, voice low but certain.
Liam shifts beside her, his shoulders straightening like he’s ready to step in, which makes me laugh under my breath.
"Not yet," I reply, and see Jo walking closer to us; I roll my eyes.
Maria’s cheeks flush, but she doesn’t look away. It’s impressive, most people can’t hold my stare for more than a second without folding.
"Come on, Maria," Jo cuts in. She turns to me and shakes her head. “Are you planning on fucking every woman in the building before you finish?” Her question makes me laugh.
“I could try,” I reply as Sebastian joins me and glances at Maria, then back to me with a smile.
“We’re gonna be late for class, Maria,” Jo tells her, and Maria hesitates.
I lean in slightly, voice low enough for only her to hear. "Better stay away from me, Angel. You won’t survive if you don’t."
Her breath catches, she grips the books even more, then she turns and walks away with Jo, her shoulders stiff, her back straight.
I watch her go. She’ll look at me again, they always do. And there it is, the glance over her shoulder. I smile and give her a wink.
“So, I take what my dad told me is true. I’m looking at my future sister-in-law.” Sebastian asks.
“She just doesn’t know it yet.”