Page 5 of My Sweetest Temptation

“Angelica!” Alphonse’s voice cut through my anguish. “I need you to focus. We have to get you out of here. Now.”

“I can’t just leave you to my father,” I choked out, wiping tears from my cheeks.

“Your life is in danger,” he said, each word a hammer striking the anvil of my resolve. “They know you’re here, and they’ll come for you. I won’t let that happen. I need you to leave Italy. You will be given a new identity, a fresh start. It’s the only way you’ll be safe.”

“Alphonse, I can’t?—”

“Angelica, please!” he implored, his voice a desperate whisper that clawed at my heart. “You have to trust me. I need you to live. I will do everything I can to protect you, but the only way to do that is for you to leave and let me go.”

I didn’t want to let him go. I wished I could run away with him as we had once planned. To leave this mafia life behind and start anew, but now I knew it was all a dream, a fantasy.

“One of my trusted soldiers will get you to safety,” he told me. His words were a stark reminder that staying here meant certain death. But the thought of leaving him behind twisted my stomach into knots, a cruel betrayal of everything we had fought for together.

Tell him Angelica.

I couldn’t get the words out to tell him that I was pregnant with his baby. The words clung to my throat like a noose, a secret that would shatter his heart and mine. The images of him not being there to cradle our child, teach them how to ride a bike, or read bedtime stories was heartbreaking.

“Promise me you’ll be safe,” I whispered. I searched his eyes, desperate for a gleam of hope, a promise that he would do whatever he could to survive this and make his way back to us.

“I promise,” he said, his warm hand finding my face. His thumb brushed away my tears, but more fell in their place. “When it’s safe, I’ll come for you.”

“Okay.” I nodded, a flicker of resolve igniting within the chaos. “Okay, I’ll go.” The words tasted bittersweet on my tongue, like ash in a fire that had once been warm and bright. “For you,” I added. And for our baby, I said to myself.

“Good,” he replied, his voice sharpening with determination. “Now, go. I’ll handle your father.”

I swallowed hard. In Alphonse’s vocabulary, that meant a silent promise of death. A part of me should have crumbled at the thought of the love of my life taking my father’s life, but instead, I felt nothing.

As Alphonse turned to his men, I took a deep breath, steeling myself against the uncertainty that awaited me. The world outside was ruthless, a labyrinth of danger and despair, but I had to trust in Alphonse and the memory of Dante, whose sacrifice would never be forgotten. I would carry their legacies with me and fight for the life I dreamed of, even if it meant walking away from the man I loved.

NOW | AGE 21

I strode past the front school’s entrance, and my best friend Kara fell into step beside me with her usual enthusiasm. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask you,” Kara pointed out.

I raised an eyebrow, already wary of the mischief that danced in her blue eyes. “What kind of trouble are you trying to get us into now, Kara?”

She gave me an innocent smile, like a child caught red-handed with their mother’s makeup bag, cheeks smudged with lipstick and glitter. “Oh, nothing serious. I was just wondering if you could be my wingwoman for tomorrow night.”

I snorted and shook my head, rummaging through my book bag, searching before triumphantly pulling out a Butterfinger. I’d take anything to satisfy my sugar craving—gummy bears, chocolate bars, anything that would fuel my sugar addiction.

“You know how I feel about being your wingwoman after the last disaster you dragged me into,” I reminded her.

The memory of the man who was friends with the guy Kara liked still haunted me. I shuddered as I recalled the details that plagued me like a bad horror movie. The guy shocked the crap out of me when he discussed how he would “ruin me” in graphic detail. And then he pulled out a butt plug as if it was a magic trick.

“Come on, Gigi, pleeeease be my wingwoman tomorrow night!” Kara’s voice was a melodic plea, and her eyes were wide with hope.

I nonchalantly unwrapped my candy bar and took a bite, savoring the chocolatey crunch.

Kara pouted, her lower lip jutting out in an almost comical way. “Gigi, this time will be different. I promise.”

I chuckled at her puppy-dog expression.

God, I really needed to get a boyfriend so Kara could stop using me as a crutch in her love life.

We approached Kara’s sleek red sedan and settled into the black leather seats. The car roared to life, and she maneuvered out of the lot. As we merged into traffic, she turned to me, her lips curving into a gentle smile that lit up her face.

“I know I messed up last time,” she said, “but the person I’m meeting tonight has a friend who I think will be perfect for you.”

I rolled my eyes dramatically. “Perfect for me, huh? I highly doubt that, Kara.

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