Page 9 of A Beautiful Crime

If I hated him before I absolutely loathe him now. He’s made me feel two things that I haven’t since my rebirth, and for that alone I want to kill him.

Deciding between my Louis Vuitton heels, a knife or a gun will be tough.

As he makes the final step he does one clap that thunders. With those large hands I bet he could smash a man’s head between them with ease.

The thought should disturb me.

The fact that it doesn’t is alarming.

“I want to thank you all for coming tonight,” he begins in a voice that is deep and rich. One that calls to the darkness in all of us. I hate how smooth it sounds to my ears. I despise how his Italian accent that has never left his native tongue is pleasing to hear. “Your donations to the foundation will greatly affect the youth battling with cancer. Last year we raised over ten million dollars. Tonight I expect to see that number doubled. Please, enjoy yourselves. I know that I will.” Cameras flash as he winks at the crowd. I can see him in tomorrow’s newspaper now. Front page with the headline reading,Constantine Donati, a hero we didn’t know we needed.

I have to stop myself from scoffing. The idea of him being a hero is so far out of reach it’s not even funny. But the media adores him. He has them under his spell. With the media perceiving him as the good guy and the police trying to frame him as the bad, he's caught the attention of everyone. He has people who are rooting for him and people who are wishing for his demise.

And then you have me, a woman who wants absolutely nothing to do with him but is being forced by her papa and dearest brother to be his wife.

That’s why I’m the most important piece on the chess board.

That’s why this evening has severe consequences if I fuck up.

Papa has offered my hand in marriage to the infamous Constantine Donati. This very evening, the evening where we meet for the first time, is when he will make his decision.

And with his decision will also lie my fate.

CHAPTER 3

Carina

Constantine Donati walks with a grace that not even the King of England carries. It’s the gait of his walk, so self assured and confident but not enough to be blatantly arrogant that causes people to part for him like the Red Sea while they can’t help but gawk.

Of all of the many faces here tonight, both influential and political, it is him that will be the most remembered.

Not just because of his dashingly good looks or even the money that stacks behind him skyscraper high. It’s because Constantine Donati is the most important person in any room that he’s present in.

The King of the Underworld.

The Devil of the East Coast.

A feared man among monsters.

And yet with all that power and fear that clings to his name I don’t feel an ounce of fear towards him at all.

Even my brother, one of the most sadistic and cruelest men that I know alongside our papa regards Constantine with slight apprehension.

To elicit that type of reaction from him means that everything they say about the man is true.

He’s not just a myth to scare the lowly criminals to make them think twice before dealing on his territory. He’s more than just a man. More than flesh and bone. His darkness and immorality have made him become what all men in our world could only hope to be.

The perfect ideal.

A true King with a legacy.

My brother tips his head slightly down towards my ear. Lowly he reminds me, “Smile, mia Carina. Men find women who smile charming.”

I hold back the scoff that wants to rip out of my throat, and I bite my tongue so hard that the taste of metallic explodes in my mouth.

Men.

Us women do not have to smile for no man.

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