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My parents had died because of my desire to be camorrista. And Evelyn had been victimized because I’d dragged her to a meeting with two of the most dangerous drug lords in the world. She shouldn’t be here at all.
Her soft fingertips touched my hair in a tentative stroke, barely brushing the dark strands. I leaned into her touch with a low groan, desperate for more tender contact. I was addicted to her, and even though I didn’t deserve her, I craved her nearness. Her forgiveness.
The absolution only she could offer.
“You scared me last night,” she said gently. “But I’m not afraid of you, Massimo.”
My heart was in my throat, cutting off my ability to speak.
“Talk to me,” she urged. “You promised you would explain yourself to me. Tell me what you’re feeling.”
My hands dropped from my face so that I could meet her lovely eyes. They shone with compassion, her awful fear finally chased away by concern for me.
I cupped her cheeks, cradling her delicate face like she was the most precious treasure in the world.
“This is all my fault,” I confessed. “You were hurt because of me. And my parents…” My throat worked, but I couldn’t force out the words.
Tears glittered on her lashes. Tears for me.
“You said they were killed in front of you. I’m sorry. But you saved me. I’m right here, Massimo. I’m alive.”
“They were killed because of me,” I corrected her, the truth drawn from me like poison from a wound. “I provoked the gang that murdered them. I wanted to join them, and I resented my parents for sheltering me. So, I put them at risk for my own gain. I wanted a life of violence, and they died for it. I got what I wanted.”
She brushed her fingers through my hair again, her touch sure and soothing.
“You’re not responsible,” she countered softly. “The boy who shot them took their lives, not you. You were just a child in a difficult situation.”
“I tried to kill the boy,” I admitted, continuing my terrible confession. “The last thing my mother ever saw was his blood on my hands. It broke her right before she died.”
Even now, I wished the bastard was dead. I should’ve killed him years ago, but he’d joined a rival Camorra clan, and murdering him would’ve started a war. One day, I’d exact my revenge. I’d craved it for so long that I wasn’t sure how to live without my vendetta. It’d given me purpose. Once I was powerful enough, I would put him in the ground.
My mother would be ashamed of the man I’d become.
Evelyn shushed me gently. “You’re not responsible,” my angel repeated, a firm promise. “The boy who shot them is the only one to be blamed for their deaths. You tried to defend your family, just like you defended me.”
I looked at her with awe. “You’re not afraid of me after what you saw me do to those men?”
A light shiver raced over her skin, but her peridot gaze was steady and earnest on mine. “No, I’m not afraid of you, Massimo. I never want to see anything like that again, but you protected me. You saved me.”
As long as she was with me, I couldn’t promise that she’d never witness violence.
But I couldn’t let her go, not even now that I realized the depth of my sins. She was looking at me like I was a good man. I would do anything to keep her, to make her mine again.
Evelyn belonged to me, body and soul. In time, she would surrender her heart willingly. I would settle for nothing less.
Chapter 12
Evelyn
Massimo didn’t take his hands off me for the entire trip back to Mexico City. Stefano gave us privacy during the flight, and as soon as we returned to the safety of his high rise, Massimo whisked me back to our suite.
Ever since he’d confessed his feelings of guilt this morning, he’d been quiet but intense, his full focus on me. Being the center of Massimo’s universe was addictive, and I found that I didn’t want his shining silver eyes to waver from my face.
The trauma I’d endured last night might’ve contributed to my neediness today, but I couldn’t bring myself to care that I was just as fixated on him as he was on me. I needed his strength, his grounding touch, to keep me from tumbling into the darkness of what I’d suffered.
I’d been a fool to try to run away from him. At the time, it’d seemed like my only option.
But what was waiting for me back in Albuquerque?
