Page 92 of Dark Romeo

I went through old case files in which the Tyrells had been lead suspects. I found thirteen unsolved cases of Veronesi men shot through the head, execution style. Same caliber bullets used as the kill shot. Bodies all dumped in various black spots of the city: Little Italy, the industrial estates, washed up downstream in the marshes of Verona River. I compared the slugs but none of them seemed to match each other. The striations, the groove markings on the bullets were all different.

These were all long shots. And I was running out of long shots.

We were fresh out of leads. Unless a new piece of evidence came up, there was nothing more for me to do. It seemed it would be the last I would see or hear of Roman Tyrell. At least until another body showed up.

I archived Roman’s file, along with the Tyrells’ and Vinnie’s, in the bottom of my drawer at work. If only I could do the same with my thoughts about him.

I had to stop this. It wasn’t healthy for me to be pining over him. I had to find myself a real boyfriend, one I could actually go out in public with. One who wasn’t the heir to a Mafia kingdom. One whose job it wasn’t for me to bring down.

Perhaps that’s why I ended up saying yes to dinner with Christian on Saturday night. It was a moment of weakness.

Christian looked nothing like Roman. With golden hair and classic good looks, Christian was the sunshine to Roman’s shadows. As the son of a prominent businessman, he was a media darling and Verona golden boy. I tried to imagine myself sitting here at Belmont, the only Michelin star restaurant in Verona, with Roman instead of Christian. I almost laughed at my own pathetic stupidity. I had to stop thinking about Roman. I had to stop comparing every single thing about him and Christian.

I forced a smile and nodded as Christian spoke at length about his new job in the mayor’s office, his political prospects and how he hoped to run for mayor of Verona one day. I stifled a yawn behind my hand that was holding a dessert spoon, but I could see from the furrow in Christian’s brows that he had noticed it.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s not you. It’s this case that’s been bugging me. I haven’t been sleeping well.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. I had left out that it was my prime suspect that was bothering me and causing me to lose sleep. Nothing to do with the case.

Christian reached over the table, past our shared chocolate fondant that I’d barely touched. He grabbed my hand and kissed the back of it. “You work too hard.”

My body barely reacted to Christian’s touch. No zing. No fireworks. No electricity. I sighed internally. He was a lovely, handsome man who could be good for me. Why couldn’t I bring myself to be interested in him?

He’s not Roman, a voice inside me said.

I shoved that thought away, pulling my hand away from Christian’s on the pretense of wiping my mouth with my cloth napkin. “I hope you don’t mind if we cut tonight short, but I’m exhausted,” I said with an apologetic look.

His lips pinched for a second before his expression smoothed over. “Of course. Anything for you.”

As he settled the bill I leaned back in my chair and stared out the glass window to my right. The waiter had seated us in a small alcove on a slightly raised platform right at the front of the restaurant, glass encasing us. I felt like I was on display, with the people outside able to see me clearly as they walked past.

My gaze fell upon a figure in the shadows across the street. Roman’s watching me. I shivered, my eyes fluttering shut. When I opened them, the figure was gone.

If it had even been him in the first place.

I was an idiot. I was thinking about Roman when I shouldn’t be, seeing him where he wasn’t. I needed to get over this obsession with him before I did something stupid. Correction: before I did something stupid again.

In the passenger seat of Christian’s car, I slumped back and closed my eyes. Christian shut my door behind me and got into the driver’s seat, but he didn’t start the car.

“Julianna?”

I opened my eyes and turned to look at him. “Yes?”

I could see his face in the dark, shadows filtering across his features. He was handsome, his features classically put together, but for some reason he didn’t make my stomach flip when I saw him. Not like it did when I caught sight of a certain dark, dangerous man.

Perhaps I just wanted Roman because I couldn’t have him. Because I shouldn’t want him.

I brushed that theory away. I had been drawn to Roman from the moment I laid eyes on him. Before I knew who he was.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts, I only realized Christian was leaning in for a kiss when his lips touched mine. For a moment I didn’t move because I was too shocked. Then I didn’t move because I wasn’t sure what I should do. I should kiss him back. I should want to kiss him back. Christian was the sensible choice. He was good for me. Why couldn’t I want him like I wanted Roman? Why couldn’t my body catch alight at his lips on mine?

Perhaps if I kissed him back, some feelings would arise? I parted my lips for Christian and felt his tongue slip into my mouth. Where was the surge of heat and need? Where was the feeling that I was falling? Flying? That I might stop breathing if he pulled away?

I gently pushed Christian away with my fingers on his chest and the kiss ended.

He gave me a shy smile. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he admitted before he started the car.

I tried to push away the unease in my stomach. It took several minutes before I could pinpoint what it was that I was feeling. Guilt. I was feeling like I had betrayed Roman by kissing Christian. Well, that was ridiculous. Roman and I were nothing. He made that quite clear the last time I saw him. I didn’t owe any loyalty to him. Still, the tightness in my belly wouldn’t go away.

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