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The seat beside her was empty, for the moment, and my feet took me straight to it. I turned to the bartender, ordered my drink, and silently basked in her beauty. Her delicate fingers twirled the stem of the wineglass, spinning the object around. The red liquid sloshing against the edges.
Her focus was on the wine, not on the man beside her. Her perfume wafted around me, the scent of flowers—lilies to be exact. I’d know that fragrance anywhere. It was one that haunted my dreams, my fantasies.
“You shouldn’t be in a place like this on a school night,” I whisper, after my drink is set before me.
Her head snaps up in shock at hearing my voice. Her eyes meet mine and widen. Jade pools of worry. The fear that I’m going to tell her to leave, to never come back and forget about me, about us.
“But I won’t tell if you don’t,” I offer. A smirk on my face makes her smile.
“Thank you,” she responds. I wish she’d say my name, utter it just once. There’s something about the way she pronounces it that makes me want her even more. I crave to hear her moaning it. I have done for far too long.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” I say, settling beside her, my thigh brushing hers slightly, and I don’t miss the small shiver that trails her body.
“I didn’t think I would either. But the invitation was too tempting, too enticing to pass up. And I suppose, I wanted to see what had changed after I was sent away.” Her shrug is slight, her bare shoulders teasing me, making my mouth water to lick and taste them. To devour her flesh as I make her scream.
“You should be living your life, exploring the world,” I admonish her, but it’s not done in anger, merely frustration that she came. But of course, she did. Even though she was the one who was sent away, I was the one left behind to pick up the pieces along with Julien.
There’s no going back now though. Since the funeral only two days ago, I knew it would come to this. The will is to be read in a week, and she needs to be here for it. But my mind is once again playing tricks on me, reminding me why she was sent to live in a convent. Screaming at me, recalling the reasons why Alessia was hidden away and punished.
“Mi sei mancato,” she whispers with a sigh, I missed you, before turning her gaze to me once more. Her eyes blaze with sadness, and I want to tell her I’ve missed her too, but I don’t.
Lifting the glass to my lips, I take a sip of the strong alcohol, reveling in the way my leg now presses against her thigh. The heat from her is intoxicating, more so than the drink in my hand.
I can’t help wanting to be closer to her. Nearer to the girl who’s made me feel things I shouldn’t. She is a girl. Too young for me, but that’s not the only reason I shouldn’t want her. Her twenty-first birthday was only days ago. I know everything there is to know about her. It’s been three long years since I last saw her, yet here she is. Only, I wish it wasn’t anger I saw in her eyes when she looks at me. Regret at what we did, what we feel.
Does she know I’ve been keeping tabs on her all the time she was gone?
“Did you use a fake ID to buy a glass of wine?” I question, knowing she would have been asked if the barman thought it was needed. Her beauty shines like a beam of light as the corner of her mouth tilts. Her full lips enticing me, luring me in like a moth to a flame. I’ll gladly burn if it means I get to kiss her once more.
“Of course not,” she scoffs, lifting the glass to her lips as if she’s a seasoned drinker. She’s not. Slowly, she sips the red liquid, and I watch her slender throat work as she swallows.
My mind turns dark, thinking about how beautiful she’d look with my cock down her gullet, how tight she’d feel as she choked on it. I’d love to wrap my hand around it, to feel myself slide in and out.
Shaking my head of the erotic thought, I turn to my own glass and tip it over my lips, swallowing the double shot in one gulp. This is why I should’ve stayed away from her, why I should have let Julian collect her.
“Are you ready?” I question once her glass is empty. “Or would you like another drink before you walk back into the house?” I ask her. “I’m not a serial killer, you know,” I tease, reminding her of a joke I told her before she left. Before she was ripped from my arms.
“Only a serial killer will try to convince me he’s not one,” she sasses, and I can’t help chuckling. She will be a perfect addition to the organization now that father is gone. The three of us will lead, if we can convince her to stay.
“I suppose.” Shrugging, I place my car keys on the bar top while I take out my wallet. Setting down a fifty euro note, I shove it toward the young man who’s staring at me. “Grazie. I’ll be paying for the young lady’s drink as well.”
He smiles, nods, and disappears with the money before she has time to say anything.
“Last chance, Gattino,” I tell her, using the nickname I gave her three years ago. I’m offering her a choice, a way out. If she leaves here now, without me, she’ll be free.
Her big eyes meet mine. I watch the expression on her face fill with confidence. Then she offers me a small smile.
“Andiamo.” She tells me let’s go, her mouth pursing into a pout, which makes my cock ache. I wish I could tamper down the lust I’ve had, and still have, for her. It’s always been there. And there was never a way for me to stop it.
I realized a long time ago there was something wrong with Julien and me. With how we felt about her. But things played out differently than how I expected them to. I wanted to be the one sent away. I should’ve been, but it was her who bore the brunt of anger that stormed into our lives that day.
I’ve grown up though, gotten older. So has she, and as we make our way to the car, I realize it’s worse now than it had been. She’s twenty-one, and capable of making her own decisions. There should be a rule against my desire for her, but my need is far from lawful. It would have a detrimental effect on the name that’s held in such high esteem, but I can’t dampen my feelings. I can’t cut my heart from my chest and ignore how much I want her.
“It’s strange being back here, knowing people will ask questions about where I’ve been,” she tells me, and I don’t blame her for worrying, but I’ll keep her safe. I’ll ensure that anyone who dares to speak badly about her will answer to me. What happened has been kept secret. They made sure of it.
“You shouldn’t worry when you’re with me,” I tell her, confident that her being so close is not bothering me, but it’s a lie. Our lives have always been a lie. It was their fault. They told us stories to keep us happy, and when we finally admitted what we felt, all hell broke loose.
“I don’t. I never have,” she finally admits, and I know she does see what her being back is doing to me. I’ve attempted to change, but I couldn’t. “I just know the men, the organization, will question everything. Even though it’s been a few years, and my absence can be explained by schooling, they won’t accept me into the fold easily.”
