Page 59 of A Beautiful Crime

Even the way he walks is captivating.

Damn him.

He comes to a stop just a hairbreadth from me. My body cries out for him to be nearer as my mind screams at me to create a great distance.

But I should know by now that the distance between Constantine and I does not matter.

Heaven and Hell could be between us and I would still be able to feel the magnetic charge that pulls me to him.

As if he can read my mind, as if he knows the inevitability of us, his eyes gleam as his lips pull upwards.

What a beautiful sight to behold.

It has always been said that the Devil has the handsomest face to tempt even the purest souls.

And I can’t hold accountable Eve for being tempted by the serpent to eat the forbidden fruit.

Because as I stare at Constantine Donati I find myself salivating for a taste.

Hating myself, disgusted for how my body is betraying me, I take a healthy step away from him. Naively, I hope the much needed distance will lessen my confusing desire and yearning.

How I couldn’t be more wrong.

He tilts his head to the side, the smile on his lips dying at my departure. They then do a sweep of my body but they don’t move past the angry crimson ribbon collared around my throat.

The air becomes thick and not with the usual tension filled with desire that lies heavily charged in the air between us.

No, this tension is thick like smoke. Engulfing you and filling your lungs until you feel as if you are suffocating.

Eyes that were once soft and intoxicating turn as dark as coal. He becomes impossibly still, unnervingly still. It reminds me of how a predator is before they pounce on their prey.

“Who did this to you?” His question demands to be answered. Despite his cool tone I hear the anger that resides underneath.

Always be frightened of the man who does not lose his composure.

I swallow. His eyes track the movement and narrow as they take notice of how the simple action proved to be difficult.

In hindsight I shouldn’t have made such a callous mistake.

Yet there is a part of me, the dark one, the sinister one, that hopes to see Constantine unleash his anger upon Luca.

I can feel Luca’s eyes burning into my skull. My tongue trips inside my mouth on what to say, or if to say anything at all.

“Carina.” Constantine’s voice is firm.

Do I lie and save Luca’s skin or do I give into my dark urges and have him killed by the Devil himself?

Is there any right choice?

My eyes glance over to Luca whose blue eyes are lethally on mine. I see the malicious intent in them. And it transports me back to earlier this week when those eyes unleashed his sadistic nature and gave me lashes across the entirety of my back.

Lost in the memory my back burns as if I had just experienced the first lashing.

And suddenly I’m that terrified girl who lost her resolve and her strength and gave into her weakness by shedding tears and crying out on the cold cement floor of the cellar.

“Speak now,” Constantine demands, the sound of his voice pulling me from the past, anchoring me to the present, “or this will be an unspoken truth.”

He takes a step to close the distance between us once again. And I would be lying if I said I wasn’t pleased. Secretly, I enjoy our game of cat and mouse a bit too much. It’s unlike anything I have ever expended before.

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