Page 65 of A Beautiful Crime

For some strange reason I don’t feel like lying to him, so I only offer the nod of my head. His smile widens.

Pietro is either easily pleased or eagerly optimistic. Either which I can’t fathom why he has those qualities. We live in a world where death follows us everyday and violence is our first response.

How can one express joy while living in darkness?

It’s almost unnerving to see a man as jovial and radiant as he is.

“I have words with Savio before we leave. Assist Carina to the car and wait for me,” he instructs him and he nods his head in reply.

I, however, will not comply with his demands. “No.”

There’s a hint of amusement in Constantine’s eyes but there is also surprise. “No?”

Standing firm and projecting my voice I say unwaveringly, “You keep telling me, insistently, that I am a Queen and not a pawn. If I am not a pawn, as you claim me not to be, then I will not be treated as such. Even to you.”

Pride swallows his eyes whole. And if I had thought for one flickering moment that his eyes were intoxicating before they are nothing compared to how they look at me in this very moment.

I can see myself becoming drunk off of that look alone.

Wanting to see if I can make them shine more with pride I carry on. “You have words with my father, then in turn so do I.”

“Carina,” he says my name on a purr. It sends shivers down my spine and tingles in places that I don’t want to ever admit, least of all to him. And when the back of his knuckles brush along my cheekbone I can feel myself melting. “You’re even more beautiful when you know your worth.”

The unkillable flutters return in my stomach as my cheeks heat.

Taking my hand he loops it through his arm. “Time for us to have words with your papa.”

I nod my head, afraid if I speak my voice might have a girlish squeak. He nods his head to Pietro and the silent command is heard. Pietro turns on his heel with the luxurious key twirling around his finger, humming to himself as he goes.

The walk down the long corridor to my papa’s office should feel familiar, but with Constantine it feels entirely new.

For once I’m walking down the corridor not light on my feet. My gait is strong and not a sliver of fear races down my spine.

This is what power must feel like. Electricity humming through your veins. The rush to the head of the knowledge that you’re untouchable.

Power this potent can be lethal.

“You defied me in front of one of my men,” Constantine says to me with a smirk upon his face.

“You don’t seem opposed to it.” I make the observation.

He shakes his head. “All I want is for you to recognize your worth. Defying me, giving me your smart mouth, sassing me at every turn,” he winks at me and I feel my skin flush, “it’s only proving what I’ve known all along.”

I raise a brow. “And what is that?”

“That despite what you may believe you aren’t dead, Carina. You’re so very much alive.”

I don’t comment. Rather, I turn my eyes ahead, afraid he’ll see the truth on my own. If I’m not careful Constantine will have me unraveled.

As if he can sense my internal dilemma he says with a smirk that he was born with, “You overthink, Carina. There’s a whole world that awaits you.”

“A dark one,” I correct him with twisted lips.

He stops and in turn so do I. It’s then I fully realize the sheer size of him. A god of a man who stands before me, who can easily crush me with such little effort. And yet to my own surprise I don’t cower in fear, I rise. My chin held high, my shoulders squared and defiance ignited like flames in my eyes.

His tongue pokes out to lick his bottom lip. Tranced by the devil himself I watch in fascination. A dark grin forms on his sensual lips, and it’s hypnotizing.

Raising his hand, my instinct to flinch doesn’t even occur. His knuckle grazes the apple of my cheek. A whisper of a touch with a promise of so much more. “Would it be so terrible, Carina?”

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