Mafia Casanova

I wrapped my arms around my stomach, trying to hold in the emotions that threatened to spill, comforting myself with the truths that were revealing themselves to him. Knowing he noticed. There was no way he couldn’t have felt the effect he always had over me.

His touch.

His aura.

His mere presence.

“Happy birthday, Red.”

My breath hitched as I shuddered, weakened, the wall I built came tumbling down at our feet. A much different reaction than I’d had when Tristian called me that minutes before.

I never imagined this would be my life. Forever stuck between a man who refused to let me go and one who dropped me the minute he was asked to.

“Why are you here?”

“To give you your gift,” he responded simply, like it was the easiest question when in fact, it seemed to be the hardest.

I swallowed hard, not knowing what to say or what to do. I should have left, but I couldn’t get my feet to move. They were glued to the ground, cemented into this place and time where it felt so damn good to have him there with me when he was nothing but bad for me.

I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly becoming dry. My head spun in a whirlwind of feelings. Battling with my heart to move or to stay grounded. Wanting to turn and face the man who was still such a mystery to me, although before I could, his actions made the decision for me.

My eyes followed the quick movement of his strong arms as they came around my body. Skimming the sides of my ribs to place his hands on the railing out in front of me that protected the fountain from intruders going into it.

He caged me in against his body, his scent, his suit.

Engulfing me.

Comforting me.

Tormenting.

It was loud.

Explosive.

Maddening.

The closer he got to me, the more I wanted to feel him against my body. Yearning to be touched in a way that I knew could soothe me. I sensed he wanted to put his hands on me, and I needed to feel my silky skin under his calloused fingers. He didn’t.

If he touched me, we’d both get burned in the flames that always surrounded us.

“Open it,” he whispered, indicating his gift, a slender box wrapped in paper covered in silver foil tied with a pretty white bow.

I did, allowing my fingers to linger with his for a couple of seconds. Opening the jewelry box, I gasped as soon as I saw the rose gold locket necklace. I had my eyes on it for the last year, wanting to put a picture of Naz in it.

“How did you know? How do you always know what to get me?” I asked, needing to finally know the answer to a question that had been plaguing my mind for as long as I could remember.

“Because I know you,” he emphasized, placing his hands over mine, and I jumped from his sudden touch.

I could feel him grinning, knowing he was the cause of the rapid rhythm beating against the palm of his hand. Slowly, he opened the locket with my hands in his, and that warm feeling washed over me. It had the perfect photo of Naz on the left that warmed my heart; his chubby cheeks and cherubic smile were the first things that caught my attention. It wasn’t until I saw the picture on the right that felt like a bucket of freezing cold water poured down my head.

It was an image of Tristian and me from our rehearsal dinner.

I shot around and pushed Romeo away with everything inside of me. “You fucking bastard.”

He scoffed out a chuckle. “I never claimed to be anything else.”

I had no words. He’d rendered me speechless. All I had were emotions spilling out. The floodgates opened, letting out everything I held in so deeply. Tears began to stream down my face, falling to the ground along with my heart.

“Why do you always want to hurt me?”

His hand rose to the side of my cheek.

I was feeling so much…

Yet not nearly enough.

“You know I hate seeing you cry. Don’t waste your tears on me.”

I didn’t say one word, terrified he would stop his caress, and his control over me would fade.

I sucked in a breath when he took the locket out of my hands and placed it around my neck.

“There. Now it’s where it’s meant to be.”

It was then that I couldn’t take it any longer.

It was then that it became too much.

His words were killing me, but his touch was destroying me.

I simply stated, asking with conviction, “Why do you want me to hate you?”Romeo

“Does it make it easier for you?” Her lower lip trembled. I wanted nothing more than to press my mouth to hers, kiss away the sadness, and claim what wasn’t mine to claim.

“Nothing about you is easy,” I declared, eyeing her up and down.