The Mafia And His Angel Series (Tainted Hearts)

by Lylah James

  I couldn’t explain it. How could Alessio bring me peace? Even though fear was a constant factor, he calmed my heart in a strange way.

  I hurried out of his room and into mine.

  With my gaze still fixated on what I was holding, I mindlessly made my way to my bed and slid under the soft comforter.

  I brought the jacket next to my face on the pillow, holding it tight, as if scared someone would take it away from me.

  My eyes started to close. A tired yawn escaped me and I settled deeper under the comforter.

  The last thing I saw before falling asleep was Alessio’s suit jacket. As sleep took over my body and mind, I prayed that the painful memories wouldn’t come back.

  ***

  The sun peeked in my bedroom window, lighting the room like a fiery halo. I lifted my head from the pillow, my black hair tumbling down my back like a waterfall.

  It was morning already.

  Alberto hadn’t visited my dreams. I closed my eyes yet again, the sun’s waking rays warming my body. I felt warm inside too. Full. Relieved. Maybe a little content.

  Memories of the night before ran through my sleepy mind and I couldn’t help but smile.

  Alessio had let me play the piano. My heart quickened at the thought and my smile widened. Alessio, even though he was cold and hard. Sometimes rude and mean. He could be sweet.

  I turned around and saw his black suit jacket lying next to my face on my soft pillow. Bringing it close, I placed my head on it.

  Because of this, I had a good sleep, a sleep without any of my past memories haunting me.

  Maybe this was my key to stopping my nightmares. I looked at this jacket, my heart racing against my chest.

  After giving it a final stare, I sat up in bed and folded the jacket and carefully placed it under my pillow.

  “You are my secret,” I whispered, getting out of bed.

  I quickly went through my morning routine. After taking a hot shower, I twisted my hair in a bun and then slid into my black dress. Tying the white apron around my waist, I looked at my reflection.

  I looked different somehow. My cheeks were rosy and fuller. There weren’t any black circles under my eyes but instead, my green eyes were shining brightly. A small smile was playing across my lips.

  It was weird. My father had died last night, yet I felt content.

  Placing both my hands on the counter, I exhaled. Who knew? Living in the enemy’s house, I had found friends and a mother figure. I was happy here.

  On my way toward the stairs, I passed the piano room. My steps faltered in front of it and I stared at the closed door.

  Was Alessio still in there?

  Curious, I stepped toward the door and slowly turned the knob. The door opened and I tensed.

  I peeked inside and sucked in a shocked breath at the sight. Alessio was still sitting in the same spot, bloody and in the same dirty clothes. The first aid kit sat on the coffee table, untouched.

  My heart twisted as I stepped inside, and my nose started to tingle. My vision blurred slightly with unshed tears. His head was resting against the back on the couch with his eyes closed.

  His breathing was even, his chest moving slowly up and down. Alessio was asleep. I gazed at him as he slept.

  I walked forward and stopped right in front of him. A few strands of his hair fell on his forehead, and before I could stop myself, I bent forward and softly brushed them away. Lines of tension creased on his forehead, showing that even in his sleep, he was riddled with pain.

  But as I continued to stare at his sleepy face, I couldn’t help but think that he looked kinder. My gaze raked the length of his body. His black shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing a little of his muscled chest. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and I stopped at his hands.

  They looked worse than the night before. Dried blood covered his swollen knuckles and fingers. I winced at the sight. I had a feeling he wouldn’t listen to me, but I still hoped.

  I was tempted to clean his wounds for him, but I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries.

  I didn’t want to anger him more, not when he was already going through so much.

  I bit on my lips as I continued to step back, but with each step away from Alessio, my stomach sank deeper.

  I stopped and stared at the broken man in front of me.

  I couldn’t be this heartless, could I? I couldn’t leave him in this state when I could help instead.

  Placing my hand over my beating heart, I chewed on my lips. I moved closer to him, slowly.

  Keeping my eyes fixated on his sleeping form, I knelt down in front of him. Moving my eyes from his face, I stared at his bruised hands. I opened the first aid kit and removed the antiseptic wipes and some bandages. There was also a small hand towel folded under the bandages, so I took it out too. After placing them on the coffee table, I turned back to Alessio.

  With my heart racing in my chest, I placed my shaking hand on his to see if he was awake.

  He didn’t move.

  I sighed in relief and then took his hand in mine.

  I waited again.

  He didn’t move.

  I picked up an antiseptic wipe and gently cleaned his hands. I made sure my movements were soft and careful so I wouldn’t hurt him.

  As the blood came off, I saw his knuckles were bruised, but not much. The blood made it look worse. His fingers were slightly swollen, but thankfully not broken.

  After cleaning his left hand, I gently wrapped the bandage around his hand, making sure that it wasn’t too tight. After I was done, I leaned back and placed his hand on his thigh again.

  I glanced up at Alessio, expecting him to still be asleep, but that wasn’t the case.

  I sucked in a surprised breath when I saw his intense blue eyes focused on me.

  I had been so lost in cleaning his injuries that I didn’t realize he was awake.

  “Alessio,” I whispered.

  His gaze raked over my face and then moved to his bandaged hand.

  Both of us stared at it. Sweat formed at the back of my neck as nervousness filled me.

  “I…I saw that you didn’t clean your hands,” I stuttered. Taking a deep breath, I quickly continued. “I thought that maybe I could clean them for you.”

  I waited for him to answer but he didn’t.

  “It could get infected. That’s why I cleaned it,” I said.

  He still didn’t answer.

  Oh no. I messed up. I really messed up.

  I started fidgeting with the hem of my dress again. Looking at his other hand, I swallowed at the sight. It still needed to be cleaned.

  Slowly shifting away, I said, “You should clean your other hand.”

  His expression showed confusion as he kept staring at his bandaged hand. Letting out a sigh, I started to get up but his arms snaked out so fast it was a blur. His fingers wrapped around my wrist, and with a tug, he pulled me back down so that I was kneeling in front of him again. But this time, between his spread thighs.

  He held my wrist with his bandaged hand. I tipped my head back to look in his eyes as he gazed down at me with indescribable emotions.

  I saw him swallow hard and then he looked down. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion and I stared down too, only to find him pushing his other, still bloody hand toward me.

  My eyes widened in realization and my heart flipped as my stomach twisted in knots. I looked back up, my eyes filled with questions, but Alessio didn’t answer. He just continued to stare at me silently. Expectantly.

  He let my wrist go and I released a shaky breath. With my heart pounding vigorously against my ribcage, I took his hand in mine.

  His head was cocked to the side as he stared at me. I forgot how dark he was, how sinister and how huge he was. As I kneeled between his thighs, I felt his forceful and dangerous energy around me.

  Looking down at his hand again, I got to work.

  No words were spoken.

  There was only silence between us.

&n
bsp; But even through the silence, it felt comforting.

  I cleaned his wounds just as carefully and gently as before, and then bandaged his right hand too. All the time, I was aware of his eyes on me. I could feel his gaze on my skin. And I grew warmer from it.

  When I was done, my eyes stayed on his hand which was still in mine. Alessio didn’t pull away either.

  Unconsciously, I found that I was rubbing my thumb over his knuckles. When I realized what I was doing, I quickly let his hand go. It fell back onto his lap.

  I looked up and our eyes met again.

  Blue to green. Both unflinching.

  We stared.

  We breathed. Together.

  When I couldn’t hold his eyes any longer, I looked down.

  A few seconds later, before I could move, I felt a tug behind my head and then my hair was falling down my shoulders in waves.

  And I saw my hair band in Alessio’s hand.

  I looked up at him in surprise, and his piercing eyes stared back.

  Then he spoke. And his words went straight to my heart. My breathing stuttered.

  “You look more beautiful with your hair down,” he said, his voice gruff from sleep.

  Chapter 29

  Alessio

  When Ayla brought the first aid kit, I didn’t want her to see me like this—broken and in pain—so I ignored her. She saw enough already.

  Emotions I never wanted to experience were coursing through my body and self-loathing took its place. Feelings were a sign of weakness. And I showed Ayla my weakness.

  Whenever she was near, I couldn’t think straight. No matter how hard I tried to be indifferent, she always knew how to break through the walls.

  When she played the piano, I saw my mother sitting there.

  The pain in my body reminded me of why I was in this position.

  Alfredo. Whatever death he experienced, it wasn’t enough. He shouldn’t have died so easily.

  The image of my mother’s lifeless, bloodied body flashed behind my closed eyes and the ache in my heart was almost unbearable.

  All these years, I kept it in. I locked it inside of me, refusing to feel.

  “What am I supposed to do now?” I whispered to myself.

  I had lived with one goal. To kill Alfredo, to end his family and his empire.

  My revenge was on him. But the only thing left of him now was his family. By the time I was done, nothing would be left.

  Every single Abandonato would be wiped off the Earth. His allies. Everything would be mine.

  That was my last thought before closing my burning eyes. My restless sleep was haunted by images of a black-haired, green-eyed angel, laughing and happy. But far from my reach. No matter how hard I tried to catch up, she always slipped right through my fingers. Always leaving me feeling empty as she faded away.

  At some point, I heard the door open.

  As the footsteps grew closer, my body instantly warmed. I didn’t have to open my eyes to know that Ayla stood in front of me. Keeping my eyes closed, I feigned sleep as I waited for her next move. I needed her far away from me. Her sweet smell. Her melodious voice.

  She came so close that I could smell her vanilla shampoo. Then she knelt down in front me and I found it hard to keep my eyes closed. I wanted to see her. The total contradiction of what I wanted a few seconds ago.

  My heart wanted her near while my brain told me to push her far away.

  Feeling conflicted, I kept my eyes closed instead. And then her small hands were holding mine. I resisted the urge to quickly pull away. She was so near. Touching me.

  Control. Keep in control, I admonished myself as Ayla rubbed her fingers over my bruised knuckles. And then I felt something wet rubbing over the backs of my fingers. It stung and I bit down my lips to keep from hissing in pain.

  When realization crashed through me, my eyes snapped open. I looked down at Ayla and saw her bent over my hand as she cleaned my wounds with an antiseptic wipe.

  She took her time, slowly and gently cleaning each knuckle, then the rest of my hand. She applied the bandage, then sighed and leaned away.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was so damn beautiful.

  At the thought, my heart stuttered and I swallowed hard.

  Get a grip on yourself, Alessio.

  And then she looked up, her eyes widened, and her lips fell open in shock. “Alessio.” My name was a whisper on her lips.

  Her cheeks were slightly flushed and it made her even more beautiful. Moving my gaze away from her face, I looked at my bandaged hand.

  “I…saw that you didn’t clean your hands,” she stuttered. “I thought that maybe I could clean them for you.”

  She had no idea what that did to me. She cleaned my wounds. She still cared for me when I was harsh to her.

  “It could get infected. That’s why I cleaned it,” she continued.

  When was the last time someone took care of me? My heart raced wildly.

  “You should clean your other hand,” she said. She sighed and then started to get up.

  Panic filled my chest and before I could think, my hand snaked out and I wrapped my fingers around her wrist and tugged until she was kneeling down again. She fell back on her knees in front of me.

  I needed her closer. I wasn’t ready to let her leave yet. Ayla tipped her head back and stared at me in shock.

  I needed a reason to keep her there, so I held out my other hand.

  As she worked, the silence brought me comfort. But what was more comforting was Ayla sharing the silence with me. Her presence brought me comfort even as I tried to deny it.

  When Ayla was done, she didn’t let go of my hand immediately, but instead gently rubbed her thumb over my bandaged knuckles.

  Then she let go and stared at me again, our gazes meeting, both unflinching. Both of us lost in each other.

  And then she broke the connection. My focus was drawn to her black hair, twisted in a tight bun.

  She was a beautiful woman, but I wanted to see her with her hair down again. Before she could move, I leaned forward and pulled off her hair band.

  When I told her how beautiful she was, I knew those were the most honest words I’d spoken in a long time.

  With her twinkling green eyes, her red lips, her cheeks flushed, and her long black hair falling down her back, she was an image impossible to forget. The look she gave me made my heart race.

  So fucking beautiful.

  She had sunk deep under my skin and I had to get her out as soon as possible.

  Only one way to do that.

  One fuck and then I would move on.

  Ayla would be no different to me. I had to make sure of it.

  Chapter 30

  Ayla

  At his words, my heart flipped and my stomach twisted. He called me beautiful. I quickly ducked my head.

  He coughed and then cleared his throat. “Thank you for cleaning my wounds.”

  I nodded and then looked up. “I want to thank you too. For taking care of me the night before.” Nervously playing with the hem of my dress, I continued, “I should have thanked you earlier, but didn’t get the chance.”

  “Is that why you bandaged my hand?” Alessio asked.

  I shook my head quickly and whispered, “No.”

  “Was it pity then? I don’t need your pity, Ayla,” he growled.

  “It was not pity. I just wanted to help.” And it was true. I didn’t pity him. I felt for him instead. I felt his pain and my heart begged me to offer him comfort. So I did what I could.

  “Why is it so bad that I bandaged your hand?” I asked.

  Alessio glared down at me and he released a frustrated breath.

  “I wanted to help, Alessio. It wasn’t pity. And even if you didn’t take care of me that night, I would have still cleaned your wounds.” He stared at me through hazy eyes and clenched his jaw.

  I pinned my hair behind my ears and smoothed it. “I can’t say that I totally understand what you are going through—�
�

  “Don’t,” he hissed.

  “But I know what it feels like to have so much pain that you feel like you’re going to die.” I needed him to understand, to see that I was broken too. “So, maybe a little, I do understand your pain. Because I felt it too. Not for the same reasons, but I know what it feels like.” I stared at his bandaged hands. “When I did that, it was me showing you that I understood. I was trying to give comfort in return.” I choked on the last few words.

  “I don’t need your comfort, Ayla,” he said through gritted teeth.

  My head snapped up at his words and I shook my head. “Everyone needs comforting sometimes.”

  “Why the fuck do you make everything so hard?” Alessio growled, standing up. At his sudden action, I fell back on my butt, but quickly scrambled up to my feet. He moved away from me and turned to the wall, giving me his rigid back instead.

  “I’m sorry.” Tears blinded my vision and my nose started to tingle. Why was he being so hard? Why couldn’t he just accept it?

  “You need to stay in your limits, Ayla,” he warned. At his words, my body froze and fear took place. He was right. I did overstep my boundaries. I was lost in the moment, so lost in his sweet words and gentle gaze that I forgot who he was and who I was.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered again, my voice shaking.

  “Leave!” Alessio ordered.

  It felt like a slap in my face and I quickly shuffled backward. When I didn’t move fast enough, he yelled, “Did you not hear what I said? Fucking leave!”

  I choked back a sob and quickly swiveled around, then ran out, but stumbled into a hard chest on my way out.

  I looked up and saw Nikolay’s angry face. His eyes roamed over my face and then glanced behind me.

  “What were you doing in there?” he snapped.

  “I—”

  “Stay away from that room.” He glared at me. “And stay the fuck away from the boss. He doesn’t have time to deal with you. Understood?”

  I nodded without saying anything as the tears fell down my cheeks. Nikolay was indifferent as he walked past me and into the piano room. The door closed behind him.