Page 1 of My Sweetest Temptation

TWENTY-ONE YEARS EARLIER

“Please, la mia signora,” Camilla whispered, her hands trembling as she gently shook my shoulders, desperation lacing her voice.

A groan escaped my lips, pain radiating through my body. Each muscle screamed in protest as I tried to shift positions, but I was cemented in place.

“We need to get you out of here, Angelica,” she pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks.

The room slowly came into view, but white dots danced in my vision. As they faded, I noticed Camilla’s mouth turned slightly downward.

“Wh-why are you crying?” I managed, confusion swirling in my mind.

“Signora, you were beaten,” she murmured.

Beaten? The words echoed in my mind, amplified by disbelief. I struggled to recollect my memories of the day before, but they slipped away like water through my fingers.

“We need to take her to Signor Gambino,” my younger sister, Valarie, interjected, her eyes moving to the door.

I attempted to sit up, but a sharp spike of agony shot through my back, forcing a painful gasp from my lips. In that moment, the pieces of my shattered memory fell into place.

“Signora, per favore, let me help you.”

I was in the cellar, the final resting place for my father’s enemies. The realization hit me like a physical blow.

“Dante,” Valarie said, her voice tight with urgency. “We have to get her to Signor Gambino. Quickly.”

Dante, my father’s right-hand man, approached me. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore. Pain everywhere,” I managed to utter.

My eyes stung with tears as memories of my father’s fiery anger flickered through my mind like a relentless slideshow.

“You are a disgrace! A betrayer of this family!” he had shouted.

His words still burned. My father wanted to make an example of me and show others the consequences of falling in love with our enemy. It did not matter that I was a princess of the D’Onofrio family. I was to be punished regardless of my blood. Even my own mother had chosen silence over defiance, aware that if she intervened it would mean inviting the same brutal fate upon herself.

“Thank you,” I whispered to Dante, the tears I had held back now flowing freely. My father wasn’t lying when he said I would suffer for betraying him. And did I ever pay for it. The sting of betrayal had carved deep lines of agony into my flesh and soul.

Dante gave me an empathetic expression. He always hated to see me cry. “Angel, we must go. I will carry you out of here.” His voice was steady, but an unmistakable sense of urgency lingered.

“Bite down on this.” He pressed a clean rag into my mouth. “It’s going to hurt, but it’s necessary.”

He rushed to the corner of the room, pushing aside the heavy steel chemical bins. He knelt and removed a steel plate, revealing a secret door hidden in the floor. Sweat dripped from his brow, mingling with the dust and grime in the room.

“What is that?” My words were barely intelligible as I spoke through the cramped fabric stuffed in my mouth.

“This is how we’re getting out,” he said, his voice low. “Your grandfather built this secret passage to escape from his enemies if he was ever under attack.”

“But how?—”

“There’s no time for a history lesson!” he snapped. “I need to get you out of here. You and your sister.” He glanced at Valarie, but she shook her head.

“I can’t go,” she said, tears streaming down her face.

“What do you mean you can’t?” I begged, yanking the rag from my mouth.

“I need to stay with Mom. He’ll kill her if I leave too. And he’ll come after me if he thinks I’ve turned against him. This is the only way to protect you both.”

She was right. Oh, God, how painfully right she was.

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