Ruins of Temptation (Corium University Trilogy 4)

“Yes, she’s safe with him, and I’ll know where she is even after she leaves Corium.” Most parents would probably despise the thought of their daughter marrying into the mob, but I’m not most, and though the Rossi family is known for being ruthless and cold, I know they treat their women well.

“Have you talked to Nic about Aspen?”

“Yes, he was the first person I told. He was surprisingly… happy.” But no one was as ecstatic as Celia. She was annoyingly excited about the news. “Celia wants to meet Aspen and spend some time with her. The problem is, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Because Celia met you at your worst?”

“I guess.” I take another long sip of scotch, letting the alcohol settle in my empty stomach before continuing. “I don’t want Aspen to know how fucked up I am.”

“Was,” Lauren corrects.

“We both know I’m still fucked up. I’m just better at hiding it. I fit in now, thanks to you. I’m able to control myself enough not to let people see the real me. That doesn’t mean he isn’t hiding underneath, ready to come out and play.”

“You don’t have to be that person.”

“I am that person.” Deep inside, I have always been the same. Even now, I can feel him right beneath the surface, scratching at my insides, begging to be free.

“Let’s say you’re right, and you are that terrible person you think you are. The real question is, do you want to be him?”

“Yes,” I say without hesitation. I want to be him because he doesn’t care about anything.

The corners of Lauren’s lips pull down into a frown. “Then that’s the real issue.”

Don’t I fucking know it!

5

DELILAH

The walls of my cell are thick, but not thick enough to lessen the agonizing screams coming from the other cell, and definitely not thick enough to hide the gunshot from me.

Pulling my legs to my chest, I lay my head on my knees and place my hands over my ears. I’m not sure how much more of this torture I can take, but giving up is not in my nature. To give up would be giving Quinton the gun and bullet he needs to end my life, and I’m not dumb enough to do that.

Finally, silence falls upon me, and my worries become gnawing. Is he going to come for me next? Will my death be fast or slow?

The rattling of keys at my door sends me into a frenzy, and I try to make myself smaller on the bed. The air in my lungs stills as the door unlocks and swings open.

Quinton Rossi steps into the cell. His usual anger-stricken face has softened as if he is happy about something. If it wasn’t for the murderous glint in his eyes, I would call him giddy. Or maybe that’s exactly why he looks so cheerful. The psycho is about to kill me.

“Come on. There’s something I want to show you.” He closes the distance between us, and his hand circles my arm so quickly that I can’t even think about pulling away. Not that there is anywhere I could escape to.

Trembling, I dig my feet into the concrete, trying to stop him as he drags me from my cell, down the hall, and into the next cell, where he releases me with a shove, and I lose my balance, colliding with the cold floor.

My knees land on the concrete, and pain radiates through my thighs, causing me to wince. I squeeze my lids closed, refusing to see the bloodbath he wants to show me.

“Look at him,” Quinton growls, but I refuse to lift my head.

A moment passes, and I can barely get air into my lungs. Unhappy about my defiance, he crouches next to me and grabs a fistful of my hair, twisting my head in what I assume is the direction of Matteo.

“I said, look. Look at what’s been done to him.” His grip on my hair tightens, and I whimper. “This could be you. And it will be.”

I open my eyes slowly, taking in the gruesome scene in front of me. Matteo is lying in a puddle of blood, only inches away from me. He is naked, his face almost unrecognizable, and his eyes open wide and vacant.

There is so much blood. I’m not sure where it’s coming from, and I don’t want to find out either. Blinking the tears away, I look up at the ceiling, saying a silent prayer, hoping my death will be quick.

“Who is this?” A female voice startles me. I turn my head as much as I can with Quinton gripping my hair tightly.

“This is Delilah Wallace. Delilah has ties to Matteo and Nash, but she refuses to say exactly how they’re connected. Or were connected, I should say. When speaking of Matteo, one needs to use past tense from now on.”