Page 93 of Devious Lies

I’ve known it for a while now.

I haven’t said the words yet. But I should. I need to.

Maria is so damn pure and innocent. But she’s not just some goody two shoes.

She’s got a penchant for mischief. And it makes her irresistible.

My devious little minx.

I know I am not good.

I’ve done bad things.

Terrible things.

Things that some people would never dream of doing.

All that stuff started before I got my law degree. Some of it when I wasn’t even legal yet.

But with my education, I achieved a new understanding about life and the roles we take on.

I think Maria understands it, too.

She likes philosophy. I catch her reading a lot in the library, and it melts something inside of me.

She likes Dante, and when I tell her I have an old copy of The Divine Comedy in the original vernacular Italian, she begs to see it.

I show her, and we discuss religion and politics. Then I read from it, and she goes wild.

Apparently, Maria has a thing for guys who read and speak Italian.

Lucky for me, I do. And I wonder how she’ll react when she learns I speak Spanish, Greek, and a little Russian, too.

She is so fucking hot.

But philosophy is a tricky thing. It makes me think, and I’m the kind of man to get lost in thought.

Good.

Bad.

Which am I?

Am I good or bad for her?

Do I taint her with the bad things I’ve done?

I push that last thought far out of my brain. Maria might be good, too good truth be told.

But she’s lied. She’s kept secrets. She is multifaceted, like any precious gem should be.

Besides, I don’t care about all that. All I care about is that she is mine.

The things I am party to are not all legal, but I have my own ideas of right and wrong. I’m a monster sometimes.

A snake.

But I am her monster, and that makes all the difference.

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