Page 83 of As the World Falls

She blinks widely. “Now he, I know, is a mob boss.”

I try to hide my amusement. “He’s the head of his family and completely dominates the city. He’s like a brother to me.”

“I heard he was your brother.”

“Not quite. You see, I was born to a man named Jeremiah Kingston. My mother died during birth from a hemorrhage, so my father was left to raise me alone. He didn’t manage well with it and grew to be resentful of me. By age eight, I became my father's personal punching bag. My eye,” I say, pointing to my brown one with its enlarged pupil. “I have this condition because of an injury I sustained at his hands. At the age of ten, he decided I wasn’t worth it anymore. I was brought overseas to America, all the way from London, where I was born, and dropped off right here in Boston.”

Rage and sadness consume me as I remember the shattered memory of my childhood. I blocked a lot of it, only remembering bits and pieces, but I remembered that day like it was just yesterday.

A small gasp escapes Cecilia’s lips, and I can hardly look at her as I flay myself open. “My father left me in an unknown country while he traveled back to his, leaving me to survive on my own, knowing I would never find my way back after that kind of travel as a child. I’d only been on my own for a couple of weeks when I ran into Stefano on the streets, causing a stir at a corner deli market where I was trying to steal food. He had noticed what I was doing and questioned me. He found me interesting because of my eyes.” I chuckle, amused by the memory. “The following day, I woke up in the alleyway I had been sleeping in tofind him and his father staring down at me, and I guess the man took pity on me.”

Looking back at the memory and everything Stef and I had been through together, I think he also needed a friend at the time. It was hard carrying the expectations of taking over an entire organization. I knew it because he wanted to share it with me, but it was never my path to take.

“He took you in, and you grew up with Stefano,” she says, understanding now.

“Yes. So, you see, I’m not a good man. I was raised by wolves. I’ve done things in my life to get to where I am that would make you shake out of your skin. A made man raised me, so my tendencies and morals align with many of theirs, and much of my business is involved with theirs.”

“But you’re not a part of it anymore?”

I shake my head. “I never belonged. I needed to be king of my own castle, so to speak. Unfortunately, though, I still find myself wrapped up in the lifestyle.

“Why tell me all of this?” she asks, looking deeply at me. “Telling me about your involvement with a mafia family only proves that I’ve been more than right all along. That you’re dangerous for my brother and…and for me.”

I bite my lip to feel the sting of pain before releasing it just as quickly. “I’m telling you because you split me open, Cecilia. I can’t hide or keep a mask on around you. You wanted to know me, and I wanted to show you just as much. I can’t be anything but utterly undone by you.”

She breathes in deeply, staring back down at her ice cream. “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because James,” She looks up at me, obvious pain deepening her gaze. “We are from two completely differentworlds. I’ve been plotting against you because your lifestyle is something I don’t want my brother or me to be a part of.”

“How about now?” I ask curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“When we’re away from it all. How do I make you feel when I’m here with you…in your world?”

She looks away again. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes everything, Cecilia.” She toys with her spoon in her ice cream, looking defeated, and I realize once again that this is still too much, too soon, so I take a deep breath, forcing myself to change the subject. “What is that you’re eating?”

She slowly meets my gaze, her eyebrow popping in question. “It’s ice cream?”

“I’ve never heard of Ben nor Jerry,” I remark.

She laughs now, and it brings an instant smile to my face. “You’ve never had Ben and Jerry’s ice cream? It’s literally the best.”

“I’d hope so for the price you pay for such a small pint.”

She laughs more and digs her spoon deeply into the ice cream. “Try it. It’s cookie dough.” She holds her spoon out to me, which has a mountain of ice cream sitting in it, and I stare at it, realizing I haven’t had ice cream since I was probably thirteen years old. I lean forward, closing my mouth around the spoon, my eyes locking onto hers as I slowly suck the ice cream off. She stares, her eyes wide and transfixed on me as she continues to hold the spoon toward me even after I’ve already pulled away as if she were stuck in a trance.

“Very good,” I tell her, licking my lips.

She blinks rapidly, finally putting the spoon back into the container. “Yeah…it is,” she rasps.

I smirk and lean back onto the couch. “What else is on today’s agenda?”

As she talks, she gets up and puts her ice cream back into the freezer. “I slept pretty late today, so I don’t know. I guess have some dinner and watch a movie or something.”

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