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by Kirsty-Anne Still

  Lorenzo takes a seat on the far side of the table after that and we all slip into a gentle ease of drinking and joking. I’m more inclined to drink than talk, but it’s a nice change to have us all in one place – well, almost.

  When Bruno decides to take Allana dancing, Lorenzo being taken by Giovanni to meet girls and Enzo dancing with a redhead I’m less than familiar with, I’m left to find Carlo and Manuel deciding to go and grab more drinks. I’m asked if I’ll be okay on my own and I nod. I don’t mind at all. Well, I don’t until I let myself looking at Zane and fucking regret it. I hate myself for looking. I see the look of pure arousal on his face and jealousy punches through my heart. He’s been with the same girl, laughing, joking, dancing, touching, groping all evening. With everyone around me, it was easy to forget about him, but now I’m stuck staring at him. And the brunette in his arms looks so content and perfect right where she is.

  She'll be everything I never will be – innocent, perfect, normal. She'll be everything that Zane needs. And as I watch her dance with him, her movements full of fluidity as his hands chase over her slender figure, I realize she has a free pass to becoming anything she wishes, and at twenty-four, I've already met my defamation. As the burn of envy scorches higher than my burn of alcohol, I realize I have to get out. The music pumps in overbearing beats and treble, and I find it pounds through my head as I'm met with my own sobriety. My jealousy has burnt through my alcohol level and diminished it quickly from my senses just so I can feel every moment of the scene torturing me.

  I vie for a man I never want to touch because I never want to taint him. I love a man who gave up his life and his morals for me and admitted himself to corruption and still I can't bear to let him near me. I allow jealousy and want to mingle together, each eating me away in unbelievable measures and I still sit on the sidelines wishing I was the normal brunette grinding against him.

  In another world, even another life, we might be able to live out our happily ever after, but in this reality, we aren't meant to be more than we are. We've been torn apart twice, tested by death, and we never survived. Why should our third time work a charm?

  Feeling a crushing weight on my chest, I find my breathing become a heave as all my emotions run wild. The tears start and I’m pleased no one is here to stop me from leaving. I have to run because, if I don’t, this could well be a sight that kills me.

  I take my clutch bag, clench it to my chest, and weave through the crowds, ignoring every call of my name I hear. I just need to make it home before I’m emotionally crippled and everyone sees the facade I’ve worn is just all a perfectly woven lie.

  “Bella!”

  I halt on the stop, incensed by that nickname as Lorenzo stands before me, stopping me from getting what I desire. I’m halfway between the table I just escaped from and the door I want to escape through. All I want is to get lost in the night, break away from my every emotion and just live a moment in my life without feeling, without emotions, without my wayward heart yelling at me with every single I wish I could have and know I can’t.

  He reaches out to touch me and I lash out.

  “Just leave me alone!” I scream at him, slamming my flat palms into his chest. “I don’t love you, Lorenzo! So just leave me the hell alone!”

  It’s with that I take off again, ignoring him to just seek glorious freedom. When I manage it, I think I’ve caught my lucky break, but even I’m not stupid enough to believe in that idea. I make it with ease into the foyer, when I’m stopped again.

  “Where are you going, woman?” Zane calls out when I make it to the main door of the bar.

  I stop, my grasp wrapped around the handle and bow my head, begging myself not to cry. My eyes flutter close, but I just see him pouring his attention all over a woman who will never be me. It’s pure torture, and I know my nights will be more haunted than they ever are. He said he loved me, wanted me, but he’s shown me beautifully, that’s not the truth.

  “Amelia, what the hell are you running away from?!” he asks me, alarm mounting his voice.

  “I can’t do this,” I say taking a deep breath, but it causes my tears to spring to life. “I can’t.”

  “What?” he asks dumbly.

  I laugh through my tears and shake my head as I turn back to face him.

  “You dancing with her,” I say, brandishing my arm out to point at the brunette who stands waiting, just beyond the large glass door in the club, for him to come back. “Her touching you, kissing you,” I comment, pushing my hands into my hair. “I can’t take it.” I feel my total destruction happening. My heart is no longer encased in my chest nor is it protected in Zane’s careful grasp, but instead it’s bleeding out on the floor, ready to shatter. “You make it seem so easy to throw these promises around only to break them. You make it seem so easy to move on.”

  “Last time I checked, Lorenzo was keeping your bed warm,” Zane admonishing bitterly, his tone clipped.

  “I haven’t touched him since coming home,” I counter his argument with my own. “I physically stop him from touching me, if you hadn’t noticed!”

  “How big of you,” he snarls angrily, his eyes becoming like slits as he narrows a hurtful gaze upon me. “It’s been two days. That didn’t stop you from jumping him for all four months you were in Italy, did it? He seems pretty infatuated with you, Amelia.”

  “I’m not doing this,” I reply, feeling myself unraveling. “You let me go, remember? You pushed me away. I didn’t have a hope in hell I’d get another opportunity with you, so don’t you dare scrutinize me for trying to heal the broken heart you created when you just let me go.”

  “Let you go straight to another man,” Zane remarks nastily yet takes two steps forward.

  "You can't see it, can you?" I ask him, stabbing my index finger – nail included – into his chest. He’s broken any resolve I had. "He looks like you, Zane." My words come out a slur, a mumble of what they’re meant to be, but I see Zane's affected by the statement all the same. "He's the Italian version of you and that's why I chose him. He was the closest thing to you I could have when you were gone."

  Grabbing my hands, Zane stills me, capturing my in a frozen embrace. “I’m here now. I’m back for you. Why can’t you see that?”

  I begin to weep, the alcohol only fueling me. “I can’t trust you to love me, though. He’s the safe option.”

  “You never used to play it safe,” he says as he releases me enough to catch my face and begin to rub away my tears. “That’s not how you do things, sweetheart, so why the change now?”

  I look at him, my eyes still pouring tears, and I just hope he sees the honesty and sincerity in my response. “Playing it dirty cost me you two too many times.”

  “Not this time,” he whispers, his voice wracked with sincerity. “I used her to get this reaction from you. I needed to break you somehow, Amelia. You’re not losing me this time.”

  “But I’m scared if loving me makes you more corrupt than you’re willing to be,” I remark, my words spilling from my lips with haste. “I can’t be the reason you wind up corrupt to the core.” I look up at him, my eyes now doleful. “Because it’s only a matter of time until you see what you’re becoming and you’ll hate it like I do.”

  “That’s the thing, Amelia,” he begins to say. He pushes me backwards until my back is flush against the wall, his body leaning into me. The heat and chemistry are palpable and strong between us and it’s undeniable. Zane apparently uses that to his advantage. "I was already a corrupt cop. My love for you out ruled everything. I was never destined to remain on the good side of life when I'm forever chasing you. You need to see that. Your father pulled us apart and I allowed that twice, but this time he's pulling us together. I'm here to stay, and I'm here to prove a point." He’s becoming almost ferocious with this argument, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ll remember any of it come daybreak. The sinking part of me so wants to remember and relinquish what we had while another part of me orders me to remain distant
. “I jeopardized so much of life for you, and I can’t stop until I have you back. It’s not so simple anymore. It was never meant to be, and I never want it to be. Life with you has been nothing but a fight and it’s consuming and I love every single moment of it. I just want to make sure there are no more obstacles.”

  “There are always going to be obstacles,” I tell him, gulping hard against the lump forming uncomfortably in my throat. “This world is risky.”

  “Then I’ll be more than happy to do it with you by my side,” he says passionately. “I will do whatever your father wants, play whatever role, protect you at all lengths, Amelia,” he tells me, his eyes upon me heavily. “You asked me once if I was your knight in shining armor or your kryptonite, and I can tell you that I’m still both. Let me prove it.”

  I shake my head. "I don't need a knight in blood caked armor," I tell him, pushing him back, announcing what he’ll become. I’m sobering up a little and my senses are telling me to run. I cannot make him a victim of my love and my family. He’s chose one without my consent, but my love is one I can strive to stop.

  Zane's first response is to slam both hands on either side of me against the brick wall of the foyer of the bar. Invariably, I’m trapped me between it and his aching body and I never knew it was a place I missed being. He places a leg between mine, pinning me more and I look at him waiting for his next move.

  "Sorry, sweetheart, but by the look of things, it's what you're gonna get."

  Fuck. I feel myself moisten as I become overpowered by everything Zane Maverick. His overbearing power over me is something I fall a willing victim to every time, but this time, his fight for me, that inability to heed my woes and leave, makes my heart skip a steady beat. I know, again, I never fell out of love with him. Lorenzo is, sadly, living proof of that. My body reacts the same, my heart does too, and my mind becomes entirely unbidden to all possibilities when Zane is around. I am well and truly screwed, and he hasn’t even gotten into my panties yet – if I was wearing any, but Zane doesn’t have to know that.

  “You are all I’ll ever need,” he murmurs, his hand cradling my face gently. “I’m nothing more than a callous, greedy man, Amelia. You must know that. I’m impulsively stupid, I make the wrong decisions, but I’m convinced this is the right move for us now.” His tone is soft on my hearing, lulling me into a sense of belief. “Deep down, you must’ve known this was the only way for us to have a final chance.”

  He has me there. It’s the God’s honest truth. I did only believe that we would have been a match made in heaven had he been more like me or had I been more like him. He’s made the move to become more like I am – aggressive, powerful, frightening. I can’t break the bindings in which I was born to, it’s too late for me to get out unscathed, but Zane is proving that I am worth more than a casual fling. I am a lifelong goal to him. His newfound commitment to a mafia crime family proves that.

  Without thinking again, I forget for a second that I’m meant to be abstaining from him. I fling my arms around his neck and draw him down to my height so our lips can kiss in perfect unison. The spark I’ve felt every time he’s around igniting, coursing through my entire body with an adrenaline rush so commanding I vie for more of Zane. When he doesn’t deny the kiss, I push my tongue into his mouth, proving that I am still a victim of his love. As one hand drops from his neck, coursing down his chest, I know I cannot leave this bar with just a kiss. I move my hand ever so slightly, playing with the top button of his shirt.

  “Not here,” he grunts suddenly and releases me as he recognizes what I’m up to. He glances behind him and turns back with a smirk. “Come with me,” he commands and takes my hand.

  When he moves, I see exactly where we’re headed – the romantic destination of a cleaner’s closet! I should resist going to such a dark, clustered, filth-ridden room, but I need to feel him inside me. I need to know if the spark I keep feeling is real or if I’m just holding a dying flame.

  Throwing the door open, Zane pushes me in with ease and as I stand in a room dimly lit by the street lights outside the small window, I hear the lock click and Zane slowly turns around. My body tingles as the look he issues is one so full of want, I remember what it felt like to be needed.

  He puts his hand out for me, taking it has me pulled forward and pushed against the door with a heavy push.

  “We can’t be long,” I mutter, knowing my entire hoard of brothers with Lorenzo could well find Zane taking me in a closet. “I’m pretty sure that floozy saw what was happening between us,” I whisper, my fingers playfully toying with the lapels of his shirt. I look up, biting my lip. “This never felt more right.”

  “Is that the alcohol talking or all you?” he asks, and I shrug. “I guess I better be quick, and have my wicked way with you while you’re still giving me a chance.”

  “Yeah, you had,” I reply, my voice quiet and low.

  With that said, he’s quick to undo his belt buckle and unzip his pants, only to fluidly grab me by my ass and pick me up. He lifts me off the ground and takes me to a workbench on the side of the room. He sets me on the edge and begins to kiss me. If this is the dying love I’ve made myself believe, I have never felt more alive. The touch of his lips against my skin is electrifying and as my hands run over his shoulders, I can feel myself becoming wetter for him.

  He laughs as he finds me without any sort of underwear on. When I got dressed before we headed out, I hated seeing my panty line so I just discarded them altogether. It wasn’t a pretentious move, but I’m fucking glad I’m a vain bitch when I want to be.

  As he pulls me forward, I reach down to his pants. Zane always used to keep a spare condom in his back pocket on our dates. Some things just never change in life. I push him back a little, showing him the foil packet with a grin. I see he’s annoyed to wait, so I decide to make him really feel it. I bring the packet to my lips, place it between my teeth, and tear into it. When I pull the rubber out, I keep my eyes on him before I allow them to drop, now biting on my bottom lip. When I look down, his penis is already erect, and the length makes me groan. Anticipation bites me knowing how fulfilment is just a mere stone’s throw away from me.

  I cover the top of his penis with the condom and slowly and carefully roll it down over his shaft. I hear him grunt and use the pad of my thumb to run down his length after I’ve pushed the condom down, sensitizing and teasing him all at once. When I look back at him, I give him an expression of sheer innocence.

  “You have got no one fooled,” he tells me, his tone strained, but he doesn’t let that ruin this.

  Grabbing onto my hips, he lifts me to pull me forward and as I slip down, I feel him penetrate me whole. I gasp as his entire size fills me and he withdraws only to issue his first powerful thrust back into me. He hits my g-spot and all rhyme and reason flitters away. My head begins to fall backwards as he pushes his way into me, stealing my breath and sanity. I hold on, feeling unable to do anything but take what Zane has to offer. My body hasn’t felt this alive in months. Endorphins swim in my veins, revive my heart, and help bring my building orgasm alive.

  It doesn’t take me long for my orgasm to explode and, for once, I utter the name of the person I only wished was issuing me with one. “Z-Zane,” I stutter, my fingers digging in as my body clenches and releases around his rock hard length as he continues to drive into me with a few more swift penetrations until he comes, too.

  There’s a moment where we are just one, enjoying this euphoric state of nirvana and it’s complete bliss. When my high begins to disentangle from around me, I look at him, breathless, consumed, not ready to fall completely and wholeheartedly for him again just yet.

  “I’m drunk,” I say, propping myself up against his chest. “This doesn’t count.”

  Zane smirks, that cheekiness dancing in his eyes for the first time since yesterday. “Sweetheart, every time with you counts.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “This should be fun,” I grumble as I jump down from the breakf
ast bar. “Grand tour of la casa di Abbiati.” I finish my glass of orange juice and then look at Zane. “Where do you want to start?”

  “The bedroom?” Zane asks, wagging his eyebrows at me.

  I shake my head and walk toward him, pushing him out of the way as I head toward the large doors that lead down to the gym area. If I start here, I can lead him out onto the grounds and then back into the house for the rest of a grand tour.

  “Just follow and behave,” I warn and begin to open the doors to descend the stairs. “You’ve been here five days and you are lucky it hasn’t been all business. From what I can see, today is a quieter day than yesterday.”

  Yesterday, he ended up running around with Enzo, learning the ropes of who is who in the Dio Lavoro. Today, he gets a tour then we go our separate ways. It’s that or I’ll jump him and I cannot allow myself to be driven by my primal needs. However good it felt to have him take control and give me that moment of ecstasy, it’s dangerous ground we now tread upon. I have to keep reminding myself that the girl he loved just over four months ago isn’t here anymore. Once he learns of my atrocities, he’ll realize that, too. I don’t want to fall back in love for it to end with my heart breaking a third time.

  “Do you get them often?” Zane asks, trailing behind me.

  “No,” I scoff, laughing at his lunacy to even query it. “I’d enjoy it while you can. Usually, there’s something going on. Peace and quiet should have been left at the door.” As we hit the bottom step, I reach out to push the door to the gym open and enter. “This is where you can work out until you’re ready to collapse.”

  “I can think of a good workout we could both do,” Zane tries.

  “Behave,” I scold and walk away. I feel like I’m going to be reiterating my words to keep myself on some track of celibacy.

  “Behaving is boring,” he responds, petulantly. “Do I get a repeat performance of the other night? It’s been two days, and I can’t stop remembering the feeling of you clenching down on my cock, Amelia. That’s a workout I could use.”