Page 64 of A Beautiful Crime

The man who has me in his arms, holding me with a possessive yet protective grip is considered by all means an evil man.

And yet this evil man at his every turn has defended me and stood gallantly in my honor.

It poses too many questions.

For one, why?

And two, if a man is considered truly evil, and eagerly participates in evil acts, how is he also capable of pure goodness?

And three, why is he doing these good names in my name?

“Carina,” my brother addresses me stiffly after the clear of his throat. Only another tell of when he’s truly and well miffed. “A word.”

Constantine’s fingers bury themselves deeper in the skin of my hip. And I find myself biting on my tongue as a rush of pleasure tingles its way up and down my spine from his touch.

How I remain my unaffected composure I have not a clue.

“You’ve had plenty of words, Luca. For now on if you wish to speak to my fiancé you will do so with me or one of my trusted men present. Capisce?” Constantine’s words are cutting and his smirk even more so. This is the man who instills fear. This is the man who leads his famiglia.

And this man, this downright sinister and evil man, has my flesh burning with a need to be explored.

I immediately expel the thought before it can become real, but it’s as if my body has a mind of its own. And its mind is brainwashed by him.

Constantine then leads us out of my room, skirting around Luca as if he’s nothing but a discarded piece of clothing on the floor. I hear Luca scoff in irritation but it pays no mind to Constantine’s ears.

He keeps me by his side, his arm protectively around my waist as we walk down the grand staircase. The sound of my heels against the freshly polished wood floors is the only sound one can hear. Never mind the beating drum of my heart that has only accelerated in tempo.

As we reach the bottom of the steps I am met with a familiar face. He wears a playfully mischievous smile and his eyes are light hearted.

He bows, and at first I think it’s a sign of respect towards his Don. I’m proven wrong when he then takes my hand in his and presses it briefly to his forehead before placing an even briefer kiss to my hand.

“Pietro Morelli, at your command, my fair lady,” he introduces himself cheekily.

I blink at him with my eyes blank and wide. As he lets go of my hand Constantine then takes it, brushes it with his thumb, and then places a kiss on the exact spot. The feel of his lips lights up every cell in my body and demands for more.

My lips part as my eyes flutter. It’s the smallest reaction but a reaction all the same.

And I equally hate myself for it as I’m chasing to have that feeling again. The feeling of being alive.

The feeling of being alive with him.

“Next time you address yourself,” Constantine says to Pietro in a tone that is chilling, “your lips will not be near her skin. Capisce?”

Pietro holds both of his hands up in a sign of surrender but his eyes are not waving the white flag, they’re waving in red. “I only meant to show my respects. She is, after all, our future Queen, is she not?” His tone is playful and I’m finding the dynamic of the two of them hard to comprehend.

Can a Don and a soldier have a relationship with banter and tricks and yet still have respect and trust?

It appears so.

And I’m only left with more questions.

I’m always left with more questions when it comes to the man who will soon be my husband.

Why must I find him so damn intriguing?

“Pietro.”

“I understand, Constantine,” Pietro responds resolutely. He then flashes me a smile showing his brilliant white teeth that aren’t perfect yet somehow he makes that more appealing. “It really is a pleasure to meet you, Carina. I do hope one day we become better acquainted.”

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