Page 90 of Maddest Temptation

“Your real present. I found it in your room, should have looked here first,” she said making no sense at all.

“I thought you already gave it to me yesterday. Over and over again,” I added. She tried hard to hide the smile on her face but failed.

I had stopped receiving gifts on my birthday five years ago, a day just like any other in my life—until her. It wasn’t exactly a celebration and that was why it had been perfect. I walked toward her because I knew she had done this to make me happy.

“It’s nothing…it’s nothing fancy, I wanted to buy you something nice like one of your watches, but I don’t feel good about using Paolo’s money—it’s not mine,” she rambled, and I couldn’t agree more. I didn’t want her to use his money. Ever again.

“You don’t have to, Francesca,” I assured her. “And if you ever need money, you can ask me. I will call the bank today and ask them for another card. My money will look good on you.”

She stood up and put a hand on my naked chest. I tensed for a while, not really knowing why but that simple touch surprised me.

“I don’t want your money either, Cassio,” she said with finality. “What I meant to say is that it’s not much, but I hope you like it.”

I took the little black bag from her hand, and she sat on the bed again. I fumbled with the knot for a while until I finally managed to open it. I emptied the contents into my hand. I looked at it for a while.

Words failed me completely. It was like my mind went blank and everything inside was paralyzed. I picked up the chain and looked at the coin that dangled from it. I imagined the chain part was also her idea. The longer I looked at it, the longer I seemed to lose myself in it.

“It’s a medallion of St. Michael to keep you safe,” she explained, “so you can come back to me,” she whispered softly. I finally met her eyes. “Did you?—”

I shut her up with a kiss so desperate and hungry that we both fell back into bed, and I had no plans of leaving it anytime soon.

26

CASSIO

“Your enthusiasm is contagious.” Vitelli approached and offered me a glass of water, and in that moment, I wished I could take his tumbler of whiskey and drain it dry. “I’ve seen you happier at funerals.”

“I’m ecstatic, brother,” I said, my eyes glued on Francesca who had decided to provoke me today.

“In case you didn’t know, this is supposed to be a happy day,” Vitelli continued.

I gripped my glass, almost shattering it as Francesca danced with Michelangelo Martini. His hand was low on her back, and she was laughing at something he said.

“You know…” Vitelli began. “You could just go over there and ask her for a dance.” I turned to face him; Vitelli rolled his eyes. “It’s kind of obvious, Cassio. You haven’t taken your eyes off her the entire night. Every man that touches her, you look at them with murder in your eyes.”

“She’s Donato’s daughter,” I explained.

“And?” Vitelli stepped in front of me, blocking my view of her, and I was forced to look at him. “If you want her, then do something before Micky Martini does.” He tapped my shoulder, but I grabbed his hand and moved it away.

“I don’t want her,” I lied. I needed Francesca. Those things were different.

I had promised myself not to get involved with her, to stay away. I had tried to. I didn’t need this kind of attachment in my life. There was no space for it in my heart. There was only revenge. Murder. Anger. Hatred. Francesca didn’t belong in there with those things, she deserved so much more.

I turned my attention to the glass in my hand.

“You know,” Vitelli spoke after a while. “I think you just don’t want to accept that you do want her,” he said, scratching his cheek. “I reacted the same way with Marie, it was… weird.”

“Love is a weapon, Vitelli,” I recited the words our father would always say.

It was love that broke our family apart. Love that turned me into a cold bastard. Grigori and his men might have killed my sister, but it was love that led me on this quest for revenge. It was my love for Francesca that broke us apart. I feared losing her as I had Arabella. There’s wasn’t a world where I could live without Francesca, I’d rather spend an eternity in hell.

Francesca was my everything. So, I couldn’t allow that kind of power to be wielded against me. But that was the problem, what if it was too late? I knew there was something growing between us. When I killed my feelings for her all those years ago, I might not have buried them deep enough.

“Yes,” he agreed and looked at his fiancée. “But I’d rather experience it than never know it at all.”

I tried my best, but I couldn’t stop looking at her. Francesca was a queen. A goddess and I wanted to worship at her feet. A temple I wanted to visit every day. But I couldn’t, not until I knew Grigori was dead. I couldn’t allow myself to want or need her. Revenge always came first.

“You sound like a sappy romantic,” I teased.

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