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He returns my smile. “You’re worth the wait, princess. Never doubt that.”
The warmth of Elio’s hand in mine can’t dispel the chill of doubt that creeps through me. His reassurances, his understanding—they should give me comfort. And they did, to an extent. But a gnawing question lingers in my mind, echoing with every beat of my heart: Why me?
I’m the princess of the Aguilar cartel, but that comes with more baggage than benefits, especially for someone like Elio, heir to the Barone mafia. We’re from two different worlds that coexist in an uneasy truce, a truce that can unravel at the slightest provocation.
As we are driven back to campus in silence, the lights of passing cars dance across Elio’s features, casting shadows. I study him, trying to decipher the enigma sitting so close yet feeling miles away.
He catches me looking and offers a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “What’s on your mind, princess?”
I hesitate, my lips parting, but no sound comes out. How can I voice my insecurities without sounding like I’m fishing for compliments or reassurances? How can I explain that despite his gentle touch and soothing words, I can’t understand why someone as experienced and worldly as Elio has any interest in a sheltered girl like me?
“You’re thinking too loud,” he teases.
I manage a weak smile. “Just trying to figure out why you’re here with me when you could have anyone.”
Elio’s expression turns serious. “Because ‘anyone’ isn’t you.”
His answer should quell my doubts. Instead, it feels like an incomplete puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit, no matter how I turn it.
The driver parks on campus and Elio walks me to my dorm.
“Goodnight, Camila,” he whispers softly as he leans down and brushes his lips against mine in a chaste kiss.
“Goodnight, Elio,” I whisper back as he turns and walks away.
Closing the door behind me, I lean against it and let out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding. After the intensity of the evening, the room feels too quiet.
I want to believe him. A part of me did believe him when he said he wanted to know the real me. But doubt is a persistent shadow; it clings and darkens even the brightest intentions.
Why would Elio Barone—a man who’s seen more of life’s darkness than I ever will—be interested in someone like me? Is it truly just personal interest, or is there an angle he’s playing? A strategy hidden behind soft smiles and tender words?
Those thoughts spin around as I change into my pajamas and crawl into bed. My feelings for Elio are as complicated as they are unexpected—like a haunting yet beautiful melody.
Lying there in the dark, I contemplate everything Elio represents—danger, mystery, and possibly something genuine amid all the chaos of our lives. But what if this is just an intricate game? What if I’m nothing more than a pawn?
Sleep tugs at the edges of my consciousness, but still, I lay there, tangled up in feelings for a man who might be as dangerous to my heart as he is to the rest of the world.
8
ELIO
“Ren!” I growl my brother’s name as I step into the apartment.
He leans casually against the kitchen island, popping a grape into his mouth. “There’s really no need to shout, brother. I’m right here.”
My blood boils as I stare him down. The urge to wrap my hands around his throat surges with every smirking chew.
“What were you thinking?” My voice is a low growl, barely containing the fury. “You think this is a game? Telling Camila we share women?”
Renzo shrugs, the picture of nonchalance. “Elio, relax. I’m just stirring the pot.”
I lung forward, my fists clenching. “I’ll fucking kill you!”
Dante steps between us, his hands on my chest, pushing me back with surprising strength. “Easy, Elio,” he ushers, locking eyes with me. “This isn’t the way to do things. You know that.” As always, Dante is the voice of reason.
I glare over his shoulder at Ren. “You’re jeopardizing everything!”
Dante’s grip tightens as I try to move past him. “Think about what you’re doing! This isn’t just about you or me—it’s about the family.”
