Page 39 of A Beautiful Crime

I tell myself that it has nothing to do with the man himself but of escaping this golden gilded cage papa and Luca have placed me in.

That’s the lie I will tell myself over and over until it becomes the truth.

Because it has to be the truth.

Constantine’s eyes meet mine once again and in the dark depths of them that will one day swallow me whole I see in them what no one else does.

His eyes are telling me that I’m his. That I’ll always be his. That it doesn’t matter if it’s today, yesterday, or next week. I will always be his.

And the claiming of his eyes has a shiver fighting its way to race down my spine and goosebumps to appear on my flesh. It has my breath caught in my throat and my heart pounding against the cavity of my chest.

Then somewhere, somewhere deep inside of me, the part of me that has held onto the loathing since the time of rebirth remains.

And it flares in my heart, causing a bitterness to sit heavy on my tongue.

This, this is what I have to remind myself, this is what I have to feel the most.

Nothing will change the hatred I have for Constantine Donati.

After all, he’s the one who made me become the piece on the chess board.

If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have had my rebirth.

I would still have some of my innocence.

I wouldn’t have been pricked by the thorns of the rose.

I wouldn’t be this empty echoing dark shell of who I am today.

Then a voice, a haunting voice that sounds eerily similar to my own, says, But he’s the only one who has made you feel alive.

And he’s also the same one who killed me.

Constantine must see the shift in my eyes. He must see how my posture has turned to stone, because he cocks his head to the side and studies me with those eyes of his.

I stare back at him, unblinking, for god knows how long before he finally looks away from me.

And once he does I feel like I can breathe again.

“Know this, Luca, and know it very fucking well,” Constantine says lowly but loud enough for me to hear, “if another mark blemishes her skin you can tell Savio you were the reason this deal will not see the light of day.”

Luca grunts, shoving Constantine’s hand off of him with a forceful jerk of his shoulder. Luca then takes a healthy step away, and Constantine smirks.

Still, Luca has his aristocratic nose stuck high in the air, as if Constantine didn’t shove it in the grounds of the earth collecting dirt and shit.

“What an assumption to believe that I did anything to her,” he says primly.

And if I could scoff I would, but Constantine does so for me. His scoff is then followed by a dark chuckle that hums in my blood.

One that excites me rather than frightens me.

“I don’t assume anything, fottuto idiota dal cervello piccolo,” Constantine insults him in a tone that says he’s insignificant.

Luca’s smile is cunning. “You can ask her if you wish.”

A young man behind Constantine, one that I haven’t noticed until now, comes by his side. He isn’t as tall nor as broad, but he still has an intimidating frame. A piece of his dirty blonde hair lays across his forehead and down the center of his ocean blue eyes.

“May I add you should not challenge Constantine either?” The young man, a man who appears to be my age, says coolly to Luca.

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