Chapter Eight #3
“There is no idea that change is possible in organized crime. What the children are taught from the very earliest age is that the rest of the world is playing by the wrong set of rules. You are taught that the only law that matters is the law enforced by your own hand. Changing that mindset is very difficult. You don’t see people get out. People disappear.”
“They teach you that life is a game. Only when you lose your life, that’s it.”
I nod. “That’s about the size of it.”
I take out a sandwich for myself and watch as the water droplet slips from one of her curls, hitting the plump curve of her breast and sliding down beneath the fabric of her bikini top. I grit my teeth, and turn my focus to my sandwich.
“It’s amazing,” she says, “that two people whose families found such unique and different ways to screw with them ended up getting thrown together like this.” She frowns suddenly, looking down.
“It’s not a coincidence, is it? Your father did research on my background.
He realized that I was isolated, and that no one was going to help me.
” And then, a truly horrified look crosses her features.
“He wasn’t going to pay me, was he? He wasn’t going to let me live. ”
I’m too jaded to be shocked by her statement.
Though I hadn’t thought it through to that end—because all that had mattered to me was what happened after I found her—I’m sure she’s right.
“Probably not. Particularly if you began to get suspicious. Or if he just didn’t want you out there, able to tell your story.
Though, I suspect he would’ve at least attempted to traffic you first. Why waste a potential asset? ”
“He knew that I didn’t have anyone.” Her voice was brittle, but firm. “He knew no one would come look for me. I was an ideal, vulnerable target.”
“Yes,” I say. “You were.” There’s a strange feeling, low in my gut, and I’m not sure what it is, or how to identify it.
It’s like I feel responsible for the situation that she’s in, and I feel very badly about it.
Like I can feel her loneliness. Her vulnerability bleeding out inside of me.
She looks so impossibly young then, and it makes me feel old.
Hard. What my father did to both of us was wrong.
Suddenly, she leans in, and her face is close to mine.
There’s a wild look in her eyes, and I can see that she doesn’t quite know what she’s doing.
Or what she wants to do. I remember the way that she behaved earlier.
Feeling like she was trying to manipulate me.
Maybe she still is. But I’m not sure that I care. I reach around and cup the back of her head, holding her there, and I stare into her eyes as I ponder what to do next. As I let her see my thought process.
Her lower lip trembles, and that’s enough for me. I’m satisfied that this isn’t all a game to her.
I close the distance between us, claiming her mouth. It’s soft. Silken and glorious. It’s everything that I could’ve possibly imagined, and even more.
She’s like fire in my arms. The impact of her is greater than anything I’ve ever experienced. A drug like nothing else.
Sex is all well and good. But I’ve never craved a woman the way that I crave her.
And the knowledge that she’s carrying my baby is a drumbeat of need pounding through my body.
She’s heavenly. But she is something more.
There’s a devilish quality to her that calls to the wickedness in me.
And I find myself wanting to crush my body against hers, letting her feel the full effect of what she does to me.
We part, and there’s something wild in her eyes, something panicked. “We can’t keep the baby,” she says. “You have to know that. You have to know that you can’t keep the baby, I can’t keep the baby, you have to see. Because you’ve heard all these things about my childhood and—”
Fury strikes a match low in my gut. She was manipulating me.
The entire time. All of this is about her trying to make me feel like she’s piteous.
Reminding me that my life has been nothing short of an unmitigated shitshow, and by doing so thinking that she can prove to me that I’m not qualified to be a father.
“You don’t have to kiss me to let me know that this is a bad idea,” I say.
“I don’t need your lies to understand that I’m unsuitable.
I didn’t choose this. But I will burn the world down and remake it for this child.
I will fashion a life for them that is everything they need.
Stay away from me. If you test me like this again, you will be very sorry.
” I stand up. “I’m going outside. When you are finished, I can meet you there, and we will go back together.
But I do not need to speak with you anymore. ”
I storm outside, and then I hear my phone ringing in the sand.
In the pocket of the suit that I discarded.
As I had discarded the armor that I wear for a very specific reason.
Over what? The desire for this woman? It makes no sense.
There is nothing about her that I should find so enticing.
I cannot explain what she has done to me or why.
And I’m furious. I cross the sand, and it sticks to my feet.
Which is a strike against the beach. Then I grab my phone out of my jacket pocket. “Yes?”
“Ciro.” The voice on the other end is familiar. Renzo. My former friend. Such as he was.
“What is it?”
“I’m calling to tell you that you cannot send your men after me.”
“I can do whatever I like. And I swear to you, if you threaten my sister’s life—”
“I’m not threatening her life. She’s pregnant.”
My jaw goes slack. “Excuse me?”
“It’s why I took her. She’s pregnant with my child. And I do not wish for you to interfere.”
“You motherfucker. I will personally burn everything you love to ash.”
“Then you will be burning your own flesh and blood. If you come for me, and you kill me, there will be no way to protect Vittoria from the fallout.”
“She doesn’t need you. This means…” I’m grappling with what he’s just said. This means that he was with my sister before taking her. And it makes me wonder how much of this was what Vittoria wanted. “I will see you in hell, fratello, of that you can be certain.”
I hang up the phone, my fury racing through my veins.
And I make the decision to go to the shooting range here on the property. The beach is no longer to my taste.