“Like when a princess and prince marry and live happily ever after?” I yawned and closed my eyes.
“Yes. Just like that.”
“I’d need a ring.” I snuggled deeper into the covers. “The princess always has a ring when she lives happily ever after.”
Some shuffling interrupted my near slumber, and when a hand touched mine, I opened my eyes. The edges of my vision blurred, but I could see Damian crystal clear.
With the Sharpie in his hand, he drew a ring around my wedding ring finger. “And we lived happily ever after.” He popped the cap closed, blew cold air onto my finger, then kissed the top of it. “Sweet dreams, Princess.”
When I woke up, a thin black line drawn across my finger caught my eyes. I didn’t know how it got there, but it felt important.
Deception is one of the quickest ways to gain little things and lose big things.
Thomas Sowell
Eighteen Years Old
Post-prom bliss.
It was a real thing. Not just something made up in movies. I knew this, because I felt it. Was I angry about Laura? Furious. But prom was my first real high school memory, and I wanted to cherish the things I remembered about that night. Like dancing in the library with Damian and my first kiss.
We’d shifted that night. Our nightly library dates turned into heated make-out sessions until the sun started to rise. We’d spend lunch at school in the library, reading beside one another and stealing kisses, because not a damn teacher or librarian would dare say anything to me or Damian. And we drove his Range Rover instead of being chauffeured, so we could spend car rides to school alone together.
We didn’t put labels on our relationship, but the school year had already ended; as an adult, I could leave without legal repercussions; and it occurred to me that, if Maman were to finally find a way to reach out to me, I didn’t want to leave.
I grabbed my henna pen and touched up the line I had woken up with the day after prom. I’d been doing this regularly since, and I couldn’t explain it. The henna didn’t feel permanent enough, but the next step would be a tattoo.
How could I tattoo something I didn’t remember to my body just because I felt an inexplicable connection to it?
Answer: I couldn’t.
I slipped a ring over the henna to cover it up. Though it looked ridiculous, I added rings on all of my fingers because I didn’t want to explain the henna.
Angelo cornered me when I left my bedroom to meet Damian in his room.
I eyed Damian’s door, urging it to open, before flicking an unfazed glare at Angelo. “Yes?”
He rested a hip against the wall and leaned closer to me. “You and my son seem close lately.”
“Hmm…” I examined my nails. “When I last dined with the Romano boss, he had more important things to deal with than who his son chose to spend time with.” Snapping my gaze to him, I smiled. “When was the last time you were invited to dinner with the Romano boss?” I laughed. “… or any syndicate head?”
His beady eyes narrowed, and the way he towered over me could easily be construed as a threat. “Have you heard of my grandfather, Ludovico De Luca?”
Who hadn’t?
Crazy ran in the De Luca family, and it started with a man who’d kill his own child. In a world where loyalty and honor knew no bounds, the De Luca family held no place. Damian’s sanity was nothing short of a miracle.
I measured his unspoken threat. “I know infanticide gets you off, but if not for dignity, try to have some self-preservation in that witless skull of yours. When you run this family to the ground, the only person in this town capable of rebuilding it is in that room behind you.”
“Don’t test me, Vitali. Don’t be stupid.” He leaned into my face, and his rancid breath seeped into my nostrils. “You should fear me.”
I laughed, harsh and in his face. “You’re unworthy of my fear.”
It was true. But when Angelo pushed past me, and my hand connected with Damian’s doorknob, I froze as Angelo’s crazed laughter sent chills through my body. The frequent threats. The back whipping. The unhinged behavior. I shook my head and cleared all the ugliness out of my mind.
Angelo wouldn’t kill his own son if I stayed.
Would he?
You can tell so much about a person by the way they leave you.
Redverse Bailey
Eighteen Years Old
“Knight?” He waited a beat. “Princess?” Another beat. “Ren?”
I lifted my head and lowered my hand. Damian had opened the door as I hovered outside his room. “Oh. Sorry. I spaced out.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I moved around him and into his room.
“I heard my dad talking to you. What was that about?”
“Nothing.” I forced a laugh out as I laid on his bed. “Has he always been a crazy rambler?”
Damian laid beside me and grabbed my hand. “For as long as I can remember.”
I skimmed my eyes across the room for the first time in a while as he played with the rings on my right hand. We usually met in my room, and I hadn’t seen his room since I’d stolen his phone on day one.
“What’s that?” I tipped my chin to the left.
A facedown picture frame sat on the nightstand beside me. I took my hand from Damian’s, leaned over, and stood it upright. Ludovico De Luca stared back at me.
Damian’s shrug shifted the mattress. “My dad put it there a few weeks ago, after prom. Probably to fuck with my head. Who knows why he does what he does?” He laughed and leaned over me, dwarfing my body as he moved the picture frame facedown again. “I know we’re related, but Ludo was one ugly motherfucker.”
I rested my head on the pillow beneath me and bit my lip.
Damian still hovered above me, and he reached a thumb up to part my lips until my teeth no longer dug into them. “What’s up?”
“Let’s have sex!” I blurted.
Goodness. If I could die of humiliation…
Damian arched a brow. “I didn’t know talking about Ludo was such an aphrodisiac.”
I tugged at the bottom of his shirt, my brain working overtime to find the calmness I had once possessed. “Ludo? God, no. But your body is over mine, and you smell good, and you look like you do, and you talk like you do, and you act like you do, and I just want you.”
Eloquent? No.
But my internal freak out took up 99.99% of my brain space as the picture taunted me. Ludo killed most of his family. I didn’t know Angelo well, but everything I’d seen over the past eighteen or so months suggested he was capable of killing his son, too. I couldn’t be responsible for that.
I needed to leave, but I was too weak to do so without stealing one last memory from Damian.
He buried his nose in my neck, and I felt his grin against my skin. “You know, I used to think you were like a robot. No emotions. Just articulate words delivered with no expression. Look what I’ve turned you into.”
“Shush.” I closed my eyes. I would miss his teasing. Back then, I hadn’t thought he was even capable of something as lighthearted as teasing.
His mouth trailed up my neck to my jawline, where he placed soft kisses. I tilted my head and met his lips. We’d done this before. Him on top of me. Our lips meshed together. Our tongues meeting. It never got old.
My hands traveled all over his back. The ridges of his scars reminded me of Angelo’s threat. I forced the fear down and focused on how much I needed Damian. His tongue stroked the roof of my mouth. I bucked my hips against him, searching for parts of him I needed.
My fingers raked his hair and tugged. He groaned into my mouth, and I reached between us and slid a hand underneath his Adidas joggers and Calvin Kleins. The smooth skin of his cock glided across my palm.
I wrapped my hands around him, and he thrust into them, his tongue mimicking the movement of his cock in my mouth. His hand reached between us, and his fingers pinched my nipples through my bra. Hard.
I crie
d out into his mouth, and he swallowed it. Tearing his shirt off, I used my legs to push his sweats and boxer briefs down. He leaned back, pulled my pants and underwear off in one quick movement, and leaned forward again to place an openmouthed kiss between my legs.
I cried out when he slid two fingers inside me. I had touched myself before, but it had never compared to this. My throat closed up when I realized I’d never have this again. I’d leave, and we’d never meet again.
Damian curled his fingers until my wetness coated them. He pulled them out, tore my shirt in two, and snapped my bra in half, so my breasts were bare before him. I arched my back as his fingers entered me again.
He gathered my wetness, spread it around my nipple, and sucked it off. His tongue flicked the hardened bud before he bit down. My hips jerked forward and glided against his erection. I was so wet, it slipped past my lips and partially entered me.
His eyes closed, and he stilled. “Condom. Nightstand.”
If this was our first and last time, I wanted to feel his skin against mine.
I shook my head. “Can we…?”
“Are you on the pill?”
“IUD. And I’m clean.”
Truth was, I’d never had sex before. I’d broken my hymen falling off a horse in fifth grade. So, unless I told him I was a virgin, he’d never know. I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want to make leaving hurt more than it had to.
He slid into me, his movements slow and measured. I was so wet, he entered me with ease. Hooking my leg around him, I pushed him forward until he sank completely into me. I rested my arms beside my head as he moved in and out of me. He grabbed one of my hands, holding it as we made love.
I begged my brain to remember this moment forever. Begged it to remember the way his free hand explored my body. The way he pinched my nipples and rubbed slow circles around my clit. The way he dipped his thumb into my mouth after, so I could taste my own wetness. I had a feeling that when I was gone, these memories would be the only valuable things I took with me.
I came with my lips wrapped around his thumb. My moans nipped his skin. He pulled his thumb out of my mouth and kissed me as he flipped us, so I sat on top of him. Then he gripped my hips on both sides, and making love turned into fucking.
As he drove into me, faster than I’d thought possible, my walls clenched around him, and his climax followed. He came inside me, and I felt the pulses of his cock. His eyes closed for a moment, and he looked blissful.
I stared down at him and imprinted into my mind the way his face looked with all of his barriers down. Leaning forward, I pressed my forehead against his and closed my eyes, wondering where we would be if we had the world at the palm of our hands.
“Day, I lov—” I cut myself off.
I couldn’t say it.
I couldn’t do this.
Not when I knew I’d leave right after.
He cupped my face and waited until I opened my eyes and stared into his. “I’m in love with you.”
“We’re young.”
“I know what I want.”
“Me?”
A smile tipped his lips. “Yes, you.”
I shook my head. “We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m a Vitali.”
He sat up, lifting me with him. “Pretty soon, my father will no longer have a throne, and there will be nothing in our way.”
“Promise?”
“Always.”
What are you doing? You have to leave him. Don’t make him promise you a future and ditch him.
If Damian noticed my torment, he didn’t let on. “I’m lucky you’re here.” He closed his eyes and relaxed, his guard so far down, I couldn’t even see it. “I’m lucky they intervened.”
“What?” I widened the gap between us. “Who intervened? I was sent here. By my father.”
The look in his eyes said otherwise, while the look in mine threatened punishment if he wasn’t honest. It took a minute, but he relented. “Your dad didn’t send you here.”
I shook my head. “Yes, he did. I was there when he told me I had to come here.”
“Knight—”
“Tell me everything you know.”
“I can’t.”
I had my opening. My out. I didn’t want to take it, but I had to. Did it hurt that he kept this from me? Yes. Did it freak me out that someone else was pulling strings? A little. Was it a deal breaker? Not when I loved him.
I trusted him. He had to have reasons. But I could use this fight to leave him. To keep him safe from his dad, and maybe—just maybe—we’d find each other in the future. When Angelo no longer posed a threat.
My vision blurred, and my head spun as I succumbed to powerlessness. I swallowed my pain and frustration and forced out words I didn’t want to say. “You’re a liar.”
“Princess, ple—”
“You’re just like the rest of your family. Just like your dad.”
His eyes flashed before he caressed my face. “You’re mad. That’s oka—”
I pushed him until he laid flat on his back with me on top. “And you betrayed me. Know this…” I raised my knee, so it pressed between his legs until he winced. My chest pushed down on his, and my lips brushed against his ear as I spoke.
I swallowed my uncertainty and forced the words out. Ones he couldn’t misconstrue. Ones that wouldn’t leave him with hope. “If ever I am gifted the opportunity to betray you, I’ll take it. If life hands me the chance to destroy you, I will. Today. Tomorrow. Ten years from now. I will always want revenge. And you will never stop looking over your shoulder.”
Then, I fled.
I left Devils Ridge.
I left my heart.
I left him.
And a part of me knew I was doing the wrong thing, but I did it anyway.
An honest enemy is always better than a friend who lies. Pay less attention to what people say and more to what they do. Their actions show you the truth.
Unknown
The Present
Hope.
Noun.
Expectation and desire for something to happen.
It slammed into me the moment Damian’s lips pressed against mine. It shed the barriers I had built around me as I returned his kiss. It rekindled feelings I’d never fully repressed as we made our way to the bed. It convinced me that we had a future, if only we could get past the deception we were both responsible for.
I returned his kiss, my hands eager to explore him. I couldn’t explain why he’d kissed me, but I was glad he’d taken the first step, because I couldn’t bring myself to. It wasn’t lost on me that he was always fighting for me.
Our movements were frantic. His hand tugged at my hair. Mine reached for his belt and yanked. When his fingers brushed against my slit, it struck me hard that we were really doing this. Excitement drove a path through my body.
How had I talked myself out of this the past month?
Why had I talked myself out of this the past month?
He felt so good on me, and I needed him in me. I reached into his pants and grabbed his thick erection. I stroked it twice, the smooth skin bliss against my palm.
He reached into my underwear, gathered my wetness, and pushed it back into me as he slid three fingers into me and curled them. “That tattoo on your finger means you’re mine. It means you’ve always been mine.”
I didn’t understand what the tattoo had to do with anything, but fear over the last time my heart broke resisted his words. “It’s just sex. We’re fucking as much as we can this weekend to get each other out of our systems.”
He laughed. “Keep telling yourself that.” His teeth bit down on my neck, eliciting a groan from me. “Once I’m in you, you won’t want me to leave.”
His pants were halfway down his legs when my alarm rang out. I groaned against Damian’s lips and apologized.
He watched me turn it off. “What’s the alarm for?”
I cocked a brow. “The roundtable meeting in a couple hours…�
�� His features darkened, and my lips parted on a heavy breath. “Oh.”
He hadn’t been invited. I’d thought something had changed last month when he initiated the most peaceful roundtable discussion in the history of the syndicates. I guessed not.
“I have to go.”
I nodded. “Of course.” I considered what my dad would do if he found out he’d been excluded from an important meeting. “Don’t spill too much blood.”
Despite the gravity in his eyes, he allowed himself a small smile. “This isn’t over.”
“It’s just sex,” I reminded him, though the way my body arched toward him spoke volumes.
“It’s more than that.” I didn’t answer, so he held out his hand. “Phone? Unless you’re just going to switch phones and change your number again.” He arched a brow and dared me to argue.
“I didn’t switch phones. I just changed the number.”
“So, you had my number this whole time?”
He left the rest of his question unspoken, because we both knew the answer. Not only had I changed my number, but I’d also had his and chosen not to call or text him. I’d spent so much time running from us that I’d become afraid of us. I couldn’t tell him this, because it was bullshit emotions that could be picked apart with ease. It was mortifying how I could be fearless in every way but the heart.
I wanted to ease the hurt Damian felt, like he had when he’d distracted me with naughty texts at Vince’s life celebration dinner. Instead, I pulled out my phone and unlocked it as he watched.
Renata: Roundtable discussion. Same location. Noon... And now you have my number. You’re welcome.
His phone buzzed, and he read his text. My eyes dared him to ask for more. Instead, he nodded his head and said, “This isn’t over, Renata.”
That was the problem.
I didn’t want it to be.
The De Luca family had been fractured for so long that, when I had taken over, I only trusted Cristian to become my consiglieri. Time passed, life happened, responsibilities became overwhelming, and I knew I needed to appoint an underboss if I wanted to get shit done.
Dark Romance Collection: A Sexy, Dark Bundle Page 14