Page 96 of Maddest Temptation

“Why? I’m not your problem, Cassio. We’re not together, remember?” she threw at me. “I’m not your mess, and I’m not yours.” She was screaming still.

Francesca reached inside her purse that had been crossed over her chest, she opened it and took something from within. Instantly I recognized it to be the little Ziplock of coke Gianluca gave her. Francesca didn’t even look at it as she threw it at me. Since I was too far away, it landed on the floor, right in between us.

“Not that you would care, but it isn’t mine. I didn’t buy it and I didn’t use it. Yes, Cassio, I crave it almost every day, but for once in a long time, I want to change, to stop being that girl, the one who can barely remember the last four years of her life.” She wasn’t shouting anymore and as she spoke her voice began to tremble. I didn’t dare move from where I stood. “I am trying, Cassio, I really am.”

She exhaled deeply and looked at the window, the view of the bay and the shimmering city stretching before us. Every word she spoke was like a knife piercing my body, one more painful than the other.

I was ashamed of myself. “I know,” I confessed.

I’d seen her take her meds—the correct ones—every day. She tried to stick to a healthy routine and when she wasn’t with her mother at the hospital, she was working on herself. Francesca was truly trying to change, and guilt washed over me at my lack of trust. She had trusted me countless times, and here I was, doing the exact opposite.

I didn’t say it often, actually, I couldn’t recall the last time I said it, but I did so now with everything in me. “I’m sorry for thinking the worst, Principessa.”

When Francesca said nothing, I walked toward her and cupped her cheeks. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. I wanted to kiss those full lips of hers, to chase away the pain in her eyes. The pain I had inflicted on her.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, caressing her cheek.

“What are we doing, Cassio?” she whispered. I frowned, not following her line of thought. Francesca stepped away from me and crossed her arms.

“What do you mean, Principessa?” I grabbed her arms. I needed to feel the contact between us because I sensed she was slipping away.

“This, us. What are we doing? How long will it last?”

Where was this coming from? Francesca stepped away from me again and headed toward the kitchen, putting even more distance between us.

“Maybe it’s best if I leave, Cassio,” she remarked.

“Don’t.” I didn’t hesitate to say so.

“My father is going to marry me off again, and he has already chosen my next husband,” she said. When I didn’t say a word, she swallowed hard and scoffed. “So, you did know.” She shook her head in disbelief. “He was right.”

“He?”

She waved my question away. “You knew I was to be married.”

“Yes.” I didn’t want to lie to her. She nodded tersely.

“How long will we keep playing this game then?”

“It’s not a game, Francesca, nothing about this is a game.”

“Is it not?” she snapped. “You’re using me just like everyone else, the only difference is that it took me longer to see.”

That struck a chord. “Using you?” I scoffed. “That’s rich, given I’ve been at your beck and call like a fucking idiot.”

Her eyes widened. I sighed, not wanting to fight with her. I had so many plans for tonight, all of them involved ravaging her body and pleasuring her in the way she deserved, and this was not how it was supposed to have ended.

“What happened, Francesca, and don’t dare lie to me?”

“I opened my eyes,” she said.

“No,” I argued. “Someone said something—was it Gianluca? Your father?” Someone had put all that shit into her head. Francesca didn’t deny it, which was even worse; she’d rather believe Donato than me. “Good to know his words mean more than mine do.”

She threw her hands in the air. “What was I supposed to do?” she shouted.

“Trusted me for starters,” I threw back.

“How can I when I don’t even know what this is between us?” She waved at us. “What are we, Cassio? How long till you grow tired of me and throw me away like you did last time?”

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