Page 390 of Rage

Her Spark

By: C.J. Willis

Chapter One

“Pain is relative but feeling anything is a gift.”

Aldo

Ibring my bourbon to my lips again to keep from scowling at the snobby suits in the room. Today isn't about my pension for destroying empires of perverts but about helping to fund the local medical college and sponsor more doctors to put on our payroll. The more medical hands we have on deck, the fewer of my friends I have to bury.

“Mr. Angelini, it’s my understanding that your family is matching the donations made here tonight,” she says to me through half-lidded eyes, looking at me as dollar signs and the power that I hold instead of a person. I wish this was the first time that I was openly flirted with at these events, but it’s no secret that the only thing between my wife and I is a written agreement.

“Yes, we strongly support the medical needs in our region. It’s for the betterment of the community that will outlast us all,” I answer, faking the pride that I know is expected to be in my voice. She reaches out to put her hand on my arm and I take a step to the side avoiding the contact. Just as my mask is about to slip, Enzo steps between us.

“My Apologies, Mr. Angelini has an important call that needs to be taken. We hope that you enjoy the evening and look forward to matching your donation.” As the last word leaves his mouth, we turn and walk to the back staircase and the executive offices. The other guards flank us, stopping and standing at the base of the staircase, ensuring our privacy.

“Anything I need to know, Enzo?” I inquire, part of me hoping it was an escape from the power trip of the wealthy and part of me hoping it’s a bloody matter where I get to set my beast free. Taking my seat on the couch overlooking the party, I can see the opulence pouring off of each of the wealthy guests and the gruff violence thinly veiled for all of the mafia families present.

“Fabbri sent us a message pinned to a corpse at one of our warehouses. Nothing was taken; it looks like he was making a point.”

“Fuck. What’s the message?” I ask, grinding my teeth and slamming back the rest of the bourbon in my glass.

“You sit on a throne of lies, written in blood on his body.” Enzo cringed as the last word left his lips. He must have known the man who died in us getting this message and I note to check in on him again when we are safe in the compound. I pace the room, contemplating the most effective way to handle his retaliation. Fabbri has been fighting for his seat with the most dangerous families in our region, but most of these seats are generational and we are very divided over the decision.

“He thinks that he can kill one of our men in our territory and get away with it. Instead of going in hot-headed, as he expects, I’ll call a council meeting locally and provide this to them and any further proof of his blatant disregard for our rules and order,” I say as I come to a full stop in the room, a rueful smile caressing my lips. Enzo nods, pulling out his burner cell phone and making the call.

“Less, I know you are still at the location. Gather as much information as you can and bring it home. We’ll meet you there later.”

An angry vibration settles in my bones with the plan agreed upon and I know that I need to make my way back to the party downstairs. I take one final deep breath as I walk through the dark hall, past the guards, and over to our table. Everyone seems to be having a fun-filled evening of dancing and I recognize most of the faces in the room from other charity events. I pan across the crowd and suddenly the world stops around me.

The only thing that I see is her.

Her laughter floats with the music like a siren song pulling me in and I stand, intending to make my way to her. I quickly remove my plain wedding band and drop it in my pocket with little thought towards my loveless marriage before waltzing to her. She continues to laugh and banter with the woman next to her as they sway to the music. Neither of them are in designer dresses but even if she were dipped in diamonds, her smile would outsparkle even the most rare jewels. Before I can think it through, I make my way to her side, the smell of lilac filling my senses as I take her in entirely.

“Hello, beautiful,” I say softly, enamored by the way she moves freely in this space filled with vultures.

“Hello, tall, dark, and handsome,” she responds, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. She matches the movement of her friend without missing a beat until the dark-haired woman looks at her, nods her head in my direction, and walks toward the bar at the opposite end of the room. I extend my hand, hoping that she’ll take it. While I may take blood and truths by force, I will never take a woman by force. She pauses for a moment to contemplate her decision before meeting my eyes and placing her hand in mine.

The moment our skin makes contact my heart soars and the rest of the room fades away. Nothing else matters. All I want is to make her smile and I will beg, borrow, and plead to make it happen. As the music changes we adjust to the beat, swaying, dancing, and laughing together as we find our rhythm. With each turn, the colored lights overhead reflect on her purple sequin dress, accentuating her beautiful curves and soft pale skin.

Song after song plays and I have no interest in moving from this spot but I see the sheen of sweat on her skin and a primal need to take care of her steps in. I stop dancing, get her attention, and nod toward the bar. She nods in agreement as we wander over to get a drink and the design of the room lessens the acoustics so you can be heard. As we step up to the bar, the bartender hands me my signature bourbon and I indicate for her to get anything she wants.

“Can I get a Shirley Temple?” She asks, the red of embarrassment tinting her cheeks. The bartender nods, putting the drink in front of her. We step outside to the plaza and find seats under one of the cherry trees. Comfortable silence falls around us, and for the first time in my life, I feel content. Our eyes meet in the moonlight and I finally understand what all of the love stories through history were about. There isn't a thing in this world that I wouldn’t fight to be with her and keep her safe.

“I want to kiss you but I need to know you want the kiss first,” I tell her, gently placing my hand just below her cheek, waiting for her permission to touch her again. Just because she gave me permission to touch her on the dance floor doesn’t mean that invitation extends to our more intimate setting. A soft smile lights up her face before she places her cheek in my hand and nods in agreement. Not wanting to miss the moment, I lean forward, one hand moving her drink out of the way and the other finding its way to the back of her head, tangled in her hair as ourlips meet. The kiss is like an atomic bomb in my life, any idea of her importance to me has multiplied and the entire axis of my world has changed. We pull closer together as the kiss deepens, both of us losing ourselves in the magic before footsteps sound in our direction.

“Mr. Angelini, I apologize for interrupting but we need you urgently for this call with your father-in-law.”

And then the magic was broken and I watched it disappear from her eyes.

Chapter Two

“When reality hits you hard, don’t let it ruffle your feathers.”

Anna

At that moment the beauty of the night shatters and any potential future that we had flushes down the toilet. I look into his eyes and I see the hope and want there, but I won’t do it. There are some things that I will not allow myself to become and a side woman hiding in the shadows helping some lying bastard cheat on his unsuspecting wife isn't one of them. Then it hits me. Angelini. That’s one of the big mob boss families and I was just kissing his lips like we had a future. I stand and turn to walk away when there is a delicate clasp of my hand.

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