13. Constantine
CHAPTER 13
Constantine
T here’s a monumental shift.
I hadn’t expected it, leaving me severely unprepared but not the slightest bit deterred.
I study her from across the other side of the back seat.
My beautiful tapestry, how I must find the workings behind the masterpiece.
I take note of every detail, no matter how minuscule, as those are the most important.
How her eyes not too long ago were sparkling with mischief and dancing willingly with sin. Those emerald eyes are anything but brilliant, they’ve dulled. Wide and unblinking staring out the tinted glass without taking in the imagery before her.
Her body was like clay against my own. Melded by my touch, formed by heat from my proximity. Whereas now she’s stone. Her back uncomfortably straight, the muscles in her lithe body taut.
She’s reverted back to the woman she believes herself to be true. The one who is dead but is very much so alive.
I’ll let her live in denial for only a little while longer.
If she thinks for one second she will be the woman her papa and brother have made her become she’ll think again.
This isn’t the woman who had the gall to lie to me. Nor is it the one to give me those sweet unspoken truths or fiery eyes after I’ve purposely provoked her.
No, this is the woman by product of them.
A woman who is biting her tongue and choosing silence rather than speaking her mind.
Being a pawn and not a Queen.
It’s infuriating.
Every interaction we’ve had with one another has shown nothing but progress for mia leonessa. She has slowly, but surely, been growing a spine. Not once has she been hesitant on using her sharp tongue or showing me her distaste. She’s even shown glimpses of pleasure, the attraction simmering between us that even she can’t deny. It’s there. It’s always been there. And with each time we spend together she blooms.
And now we are back to this.
Petals wilting.
Claws retracting.
Her fire diminishing.
I’m more than infuriated.
I’m disappointed.
Saddened.
She remains silent for the remainder of the car ride. Not even offering me the profile of her face. This distance she’s created is more than physical.
Doesn’t she know the pull between us is so strong that not even Heaven and Hell can keep us apart?
Why must she continue to fight it?
Why does she continue to fight herself?
She may be ignoring me but my mind has done nothing but obsess over her, even as Pietro pulls smoothly into my parking garage.
He opens the car door, checking surveillance, as usual. One can never be too careful. My late mamma had a saying, an ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure. She never knew how much it bled in very well with my line of work.
Rapping his knuckles twice on the window I know the coast is clear. Before I open my door I glance back at her. She hasn’t moved an inch. And I wonder what’s going on in that beautiful self destructive mind of hers.
Buttoning my suit jacket I order Pietro, “Leave us.”
Pietro raises a brow. He then peers in the backseat to find Carina in the same stiff position she’s been this entire time. Feeling irrationally jealous I block his view by standing in front of the open door. “I don’t believe what they say about her, sir.”
I cock my head to the side, assessing him with frosted eyes. “And what do they say, Pietro?”
He swallows nervously. “That she’s an Ice Queen. I don’t believe it.”
Those damn fucking papers.
I have every right to pay a visit to the reporter, Niki Knox, and print her very own issue of the article with black, white and red.
Carina had stepped out into the spotlight for the first time and now she is known as the Ice Queen thanks to none other than little miss Niki Knox.
Perhaps I will pay her a visit.
No one talks about what’s mine and lives to see another day.
And the pathetic excuse for a woman couldn’t be more wrong. Carina isn’t made of ice. All she needs is someone to stoke the remnants of embers she has long forgotten.
“While I am beyond thrilled to hear you don’t believe her reputation,” I say dryly before towering over him and threatening him in a calm voice, “I will rip your vocal chords out if I hear you utter the words Ice Queen again. Capisce?”
He nods his head. “Capisce.”
I run my hand aimlessly down my tie. “Very well. Now leave us. I want you down at the docks overlooking the gun shipment tonight.”
It’s our first shipment from Hong Kong after I made a lucrative deal with Tao Huang, the leader of the Triad.
Pietro is my most trusted soldier. My eyes and ears on the streets. Rightfully, with this being our first transaction I should be there.
But I have more important matters at hand.
“Si.” He nods his head again and excuses himself with a slight bow.
Another thing I like about Pietro, he takes command without the slightest hesitation.
I wait until he is out of sight until I go to retrieve Carina from the car.
As I open her car door I offer her my hand in silent hopes that she’ll take it.
Anticipation has me feeling like an electrical current is running under my skin. A light touch of her hand enough to produce an impulse.
She blinks once at my hand, as if it’s an anomaly, and then with those expressionless doll eyes, blinks at me.
“Keep this insolence up, mia leonessa and it’ll be my pleasure to take you over my knee,” I threaten her salaciously, and Dio Mio, it does not disappoint.
For the first time since we have left Savio’s office there’s a reaction.
A sharp inhale of her breath. Fire blazing in her eyes.
All mia leonessa needs is a little provocation and she comes alive.
Oh, this will be fun indeed.
To tease her further, hoping to gain more of a reaction I let her know, “And would you look at that? A reaction from Carina Fiore. A dead woman she isn’t after all.”
Her lips form in a grim line as those beautiful jeweled eyes harden. “You are no gentlemen, Signore.”
Signore.
I’ve struck a nerve.
Inside I’m claiming a victory. Having no decency I wear my victory with pride by a smirk upon my face and gleaming eyes. “I’ve already told you, Carina.” I roll her name off of my tongue and watch her reaction with deep satisfaction. She may try to fight the attraction between us but her body betrays her every time I utter her name. I lower my voice, as if I’m conspiring, and say, “I don’t concern myself with what’s appropriate or politically correct.”
“No,” she agrees coolly, “you don’t.”
Clearly upset with herself, and me, she ignores my outstretched hand and helps herself out of the car.
My smirk remains on my face, which only increases the false disdain on hers.
Soon, she’ll give in to her darkest urges.
And she won’t have the weight of her conscience to weigh her down.
Because as much as Carina believes herself to be dead she wouldn’t be fighting me, and the darkness she possesses, if she truly was.
If she was dead she simply wouldn’t care.
But somewhere within herself she’s waging a war on who she’s supposed to be in this world.
Her real dilemma is she already knows who she is meant to be, she’s just afraid of how the world will perceive her.
My beautiful complex woman. Keeping me on my toes.
“Will you miss it?” I ask her once we reach my private elevator that grants access straight up to my penthouse. By procedure I do the retinal scan followed by my fingerprint. I’ll have Rico grant her access as well.
Unlike Savio, Carina will not be the princess held prisoner in the tower.
“Miss it?” She questions as she proceeds inside the elevator first. I follow her in, closing the distance between us as I press the close button. My arm brushes along her breasts and she stiffens. But I take notice of how her breath hitches, and as I move my arm back, deliberately slow, her nipples are peaked.
Dio Mio. My cock stiffens.
I imagine them the same dusty rose shade as her lips. What I wouldn’t give to have a taste.
I clear my throat as I position myself in a stance that appears leisurely. “Your home?”
Hatred and resentment swirl in the depths of her eyes. “No.”
“Very well, then.” Her answer I had expected. I remember our conversation at Saint Peter’s Cemetery vividly. Some nights, it replayed in my head like my very own movie. I had noticed then how she referred to it as her papa’s home and never hers.
I wonder if she ever felt as if it was one, even when her mamma was alive. Carina had been so blind then. Rose tinted glasses. Innocence. All of that had been lost when her mamma had killed herself.
One day those luscious lips of hers will tell me the truth of what had transpired between those walls. For now, I must settle with unspoken truths.
Those unspoken truths have surely not been forgotten.
Luca will pay for what he has done to her. In time. No decision in haste is ever a good one. My own father had taught me such at a young age.
Never make rash decisions. You must wait until the dust settles. Wait until they think they’ve bested you, then you strike, and they’ll never see it coming.
He was right, of course.
He was right of so many things.
I often wish I could pick his brain apart to this day. He was the only one who I found to be the most thought provoking. If I thought one way, he would beg me to think another. In every way I thought I knew what was best, my father knew a way that was better.
I’m not ashamed to admit I miss him.
He wasn’t the best of men, not by society standards, but he was the best of men to me.
May his God that he believed in rest his soul.
The sound of the elevator softly dings and I open my arm wide, welcoming Carina to just a slither of my world.
I’m not a bashful man, if anything I can be a bit too boastful. But I attest, how else does a billionaire spend their wealth?
The penthouse is a little over eight thousand square feet with a view of my dark beautiful city. Floor to ceiling windows encompass the penthouse offering a different view from each room. An open floor plan extends from the kitchen to the living area. The living area's main feature is the expanded skylight. During the day, the skylight illuminates my most valued paintings, and when night falls there is the brilliance of the stars. Brown marble floors bring warmth along with earthiness, at least that’s what I was told from my interior designer. All modern appliances, the best of which money can buy, and custom pieces of furniture to which they are comfortable.
My wealth isn’t as extravagantly shown as others who come to money. Whereas Savio has his home done in poor taste, feeling more like a monstrosity of a museum, I prefer mine to feel livable. This is, after all, where I sleep. This is who I am when I’m not out there. And although business never ends, not in our world, I would rather be myself than pretend to be someone I’m not.
Intently I watch her. She stands beneath the middle of the skylight, her head tipped upwards with an unreadable expression. Her eyes remain staring out the skylight, wide and. . .lost. It pulls on the strings that reside in the cavity of my chest.
With her eyes still searching she shares with me monotonously, “Mamma loved the stars. When I was a young girl, too young to understand, she told me about the great beauty of the stars. That light can shine in the darkness.”
I dare to take a step closer to her. Seeing her remaining still I keep my steps one step at a time until I swallow the distance between us.
She pays me no attention, her eyes still cast upward, but her body is aware of my nearness. It always is.
Goosebumps appear across her skin and her breaths change. They’re a staccato.
Carina may proclaim she hates me but her body denies her claims vehemently.
“And do you believe her?” My voice is low, my breath hitting right against her nape. She involuntarily shivers.
Silence ensues and I fear she won’t reply with an answer. Then, her eyes finally drift away from the brilliant stars. She offers me the side profile of her face, her hair of obsidian shielding her eyes. I feel her breath against me as she responds, “In this life can there be light?”
If I was a man who didn’t notice the finite details I would have missed it. There’s a touch of sorrow in her tone. And it flares an ache in my heart.
I press closer to her, our bodies flush, humming with electricity, brimming with desire. My hand is a soft whisper as it trails up her arm. Her breath leaves her. It returns with a soft gasp when my hand finds its rightful place, collared delicately around her throat.
Against the shell of her ear I say, “It can be quite garish, can it not? The light.”
Her breath falters. I feel the flutter of her pulse against my fingertips. And I can only imagine the feel of her pulse when I’m deep inside her.
“You’re opposed to it?” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
My free hand finds purchase on the flare of her hip. She sucks in a breath of air. I smirk in response. “I’m not opposed to it.” I continue the slow erotic exploration of her body as we delve in each other’s minds. My hand travels from her hip to the slight curve of her stomach and makes its ascend to rest right below her breasts. Her breaths are uneven, body molded like clay against my own. “But how can I prefer it when the darkness gives me everything I desire?”
“What you desire is dangerous.”
“And you’ve never desired anything dangerous?” I counter, already knowing the answer.
She swallows thickly. “No.”
I tsk. “Ah, Carina.” I roll her name off my tongue in a seductive purr. Her ass presses up against me as her head lolls back. “My beautiful liar.” I half expect her to pull away with disdain at this point. It’s what she does. Retreats when things become real between us, when it becomes real to her. To my utter surprise and delight she doesn’t. “What is it that has so you so afraid?”
She breathes, “I’m not.”
My fingers flex around her throat. Her breath hitches in response. My cock hardens. “You lie well, mia leonessa , but I can see through you. You are afraid. Afraid of giving into the darkness. You’re afraid that you just might love it.”
Her eyes then make contact with mine. Those beautiful emerald jewels are enough to make a man lose his sanity. “I’ve already given in.”
If she’s referring to six months ago she’s surely mistaken. My hand snakes up from her throat to pinch her chin. Her mouth parts open and it takes everything within me to resist the sweet temptation.
“No,” I disagree, “you haven’t.”
Her eyes flash then, burning bright with anger. And if it makes me a sick man I don’t care, it turns me on. “You know what I’ve done.”
“And what is it you’ve done, Carina?”
She begins to fight my hold but it’s futile. Seeing this she gives up the fight but remains stiff in my arms. No longer clay, back to stone. “Portraying to be dense doesn’t suit you, Signore.”
I pinch her chin harder, and I’ll give her credit, she doesn’t wince. “You see, Carina,” I sneer, “this is why you haven’t given in. You can’t even admit what you’ve done.” She goes to open her mouth but I silence her with a cold look. “And you fight yourself constantly. What is there to fight?”
Her lips purse with irritation.
“Tell me,” I demand in a soft voice.
“You wouldn’t understand,” she spits.
I raise a brow in challenge. “I wouldn’t? I find that very hard to believe, mia leonessa.”
“How can you when you were born in this life? I was thrust into it, unwillingly. And yet you think you can understand? You can’t.”
She may think she wasn’t born in this life but she was. Any child of a Don is born of darkness. As for unwillingly. . . She had a choice. Three matter of fact. On that night she believes was decided for her she had three choices. Kill her brother, in which she did. Kill her papa and flee. Or the last, the only way you are truly out of this life, by killing yourself.
I place my fingers on her lips to silence her. Her eyes widen and then narrow on mine. “That’s enough lies told today, Carina.” Reluctantly, I remove myself from her, taking a step away. I feel the cold air in her absence, and I immediately miss the feel of her.
She turns, blinking up at me with those eyes full of questions that she doesn’t want answered.
She swallows thickly, placing a hand on her throat, where mine once was.
Her skin flushes.
I smirk in response.
“I’ll show you to your bedroom, you must be exhausted.”
Her brow raises. “My bedroom?”
I raise a brow back. “Would you rather accompany me in mine?”
“No, I-”
“You, what? Thought I would force you to share a room with me? Force you into my bed?” She remains silent however her eyes tell me all I need to know. “When you enter my bedroom, Carina, it will be because you want to be there.”
She scoffs. Inside, I claim another victory. “I’ll never want to be there.”
My eyes light with amusement. “You’ll find yourself begging for my touch, Carina. And when the time comes you won’t even hate yourself for it.”
She doesn’t respond, but her nostrils flare.
It shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does, her fury, but it does.
I signal with two fingers for her to follow me and she obeys my command. My penthouse has three levels. Her room and mine reside on the third level. Level two is where my office and Rico’s office reside along with my weaponry room and safe room. Main level has all the necessities. A kitchen, dining room, family room, and formal room. There’s also a home gym and an inside swimming pool.
Her room is adjacent to my own. Almost the same in size but not with all the luxuries mine has to offer. Yet still, it has a king size bed, a walk-in closet, an en-suite bathroom, and a nook area for leisure. The guest room isn’t hurting in any means, it just doesn’t have everything mine has to offer.
I open the door for her and wait for her to take the first step inside. I may be The Devil of the East Coast, but I am a gentleman. In some aspects at least.
Shoulders pinned back, chin held high, she makes sure not to touch me as she crosses the entry.
Again, I study her like a butterfly under a scope with its wings pulled apart.
She stands in the middle of the room taking in everything before her. I don’t expect her to gawk, she comes from money. She was born in wealth. But I do know where she lived never felt like a home. Merely a place where she was kept.
Do I hope she won’t see this room, my home, in the same way, of course I do.
All of this is meant to be hers, too.
A Queen meant to rule by my side.
Giving hardly anything away, a face that would’ve won her millions in poker, she says to me, “I wish to rest.”
I nod my head. I could tease her more but I already know I’ve pushed enough for today. “Do you need assistance with your wounds?” My voice is stiff by the end but not because of her wounds, but because of how she acquired them.
She stiffens, her neck muscles flexing. “No,” she says curtly. Her eyes reflect the pain and fear. And seeing fear in her eyes stirs something inside me.
Crossing the room I close the distance between us. She swallows as she cranes her neck to look up at me.
Tenderly, I run my knuckles along her cheek. And despite all the words she throws like daggers my way she succumbs to my touch. “I promise you this, Carina, I will kill him for everything he has done to you.”
Her eyes search mine. Perhaps trying to detect the lie. All her life the men who should have cared for and protected her only abused her.
Hesitantly, yet growing surer with each second that passes she places her hand over my own. My heart fucking accelerates as a rush of euphoria sweeps through me. Her touch is like the purest cocaine to an addict after their first hit.
“What happened on waiting for your Queen to rise to kill him herself?”
I knew it.
The sharp inhale of breath wasn’t one of aversion.
She was enticed.
A woman who battles with morality yet wants to divulge in sin.
And I won’t deny her.
I had meant what I said. Every word.
But she needs to admit who she is. She needs to give in to her darker side, without the weight of her conscience, if she is to see this through.
Otherwise it will only destroy her.
And that is something I will not allow to happen.
I will protect Carina from everyone, including herself.
“Is that what you want?” I ask her.
Her fingers tighten in mine. It’s as if she’s trying to anchor herself to the light she still holds. Doesn’t she know she’s grasping on to the Devil? The man of sin and temptation?
With my free hand I pinch her chin between my fingers lightly. “You have to know, Carina. And once you do, once you allow yourself to live with the darkness inside you I will gladly step to the side so you can end all the suffering and pain.”
“I’ve never met a man like you before,” she admits in wonder. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to understand you.”
I release her chin to tap her nose with the pad of my finger. “And that’s your problem.”
“What is?”
“I’m not a complicated man, Carina.”
“You’re a conundrum. One, for the life of me, I can’t figure out.”
“You’re making it complicated because you refuse to see it for yourself,” I tell her.
“See what?” She demands.
“You know what, mia leonessa. Portraying densely doesn’t suit you.” I throw the words she used upon me back at her. Her eyes flash and she hastily removes herself from me.
Her tone is back to monotonous as she responds, “I don’t need any assistance. I would like to rest now.”
I nod my head, smirk in place. I really do think now I’ve pushed enough of her buttons today. I may be cruel, but I’m not that cruel. Never to her.
Before I leave and shut the door I turn back to her. I find that her eyes have never left me. “Carina, from now on you’ll have dinner with me every night at seven sharp. Don’t be late.” And I leave with the image of pursed lips and fiery eyes.
Bringing her back to life will be most fun indeed.