Page 103 of A Beautiful Crime

And I see it, I see it more than I did moments before.

He’s truly well disappointed in me.

And it leaves me feeling bereft and hollow.

“The truth you’re so afraid of, Carina, is you don’t loathe me at all. The truth is you hate yourself. You hate the darkness inside you that I am not ashamed of. You hate fighting with your morality when I don’t have to fight at all. You hate me because I am what you truly desire. I am who I am so freely and unabashedly. You hate that you cannot accept yourself the way I accept myself. And you hate that I see all of you, all your darkness and sinful desires, and I accept them.”

Tears burn at the back of my eyes as they clog in the back of my throat. I flex my hand around my neck to try and keep them at bay.

The disappointment on his face is the hardest to bear. His lips curl, as if he’s disgusted with me. And I can’t stand the sight of it. The churning in my stomach has me feeling physically sick all over.

“I have always thought so highly of you. You are meant to be a Queen, Carina. My Queen.” His voice is painful, agonizing. “But I would have never thought of you as a coward.” The word makes me wince. And I see he takes no pride in it.

The step he takes away from me feels like a lash against my skin. No, it’s in fact more painful. I’d rather take all of Luca’s lashes than feel this.

“Constan-” His hand in the air silences me. I obey him, as I always seem to do without him even uttering a word.

His face changes before me. There’s no longer Constantine Donati, the man who has humbled himself before me with a vulnerability only he’s allowed me to see. Now stands before me the man the rest of the world sees. Eyes that were soft and warm turned to a harsh bitter coldness. A face made of stone instead of clay that molded just for me.

Inside I feel pieces of my heart wither. My soul is aching for him to come back to me.

But it’s my damn mind that tries to convince me that having any longing for him at all, any feelings is insanity, and that this is what I should want.

Except this version of him I do not want at all.

Least not at all towards me.

“Dessert is served next if you wish to have it.” His voice is cold and unfeeling. It leaves me feeling hollow and unsettled. “Dinner as always will be at seven. However, I will no longer be attending.” It will be the first time in the six weeks I have been here that he will not be attending dinner.

My mouth is suddenly dry as my tongue feels like lead.

He nods his head at me, as one does when business is finished, and turns on his heel to leave.

And somehow, some way, I manage to ask on a baited breath, “Where will you be?” As if I have any right to ask him of his whereabouts after what I have just done.

He snickers darkly. He doesn’t even turn around to respond to me. It’s a respect he’s no longer giving me. Another painful lash. “I have more important matters that need tending to.”

“More important?” I echo in a strained voice. He remains standing there, still giving me his back. And while I’m hurt I’m also agitated. “You’ve had dinner with me every night. Never missed once. And now matters are more important?”

Finally, he turns. It should be rewarding but it feels more like a punishment. The anger and pain that greets me isunwelcoming. “Yes, now matters are more important,” he says harshly. “They have become more important because you wish them to be. You chose this, Carina. Do not lay the blame with me when you are the one denying us at every turn.”

I swallow harshly. Tears burn at the back of my eyes. My breathing is uneven and I hate how I want to squirm from his scorching glare.

He raises a brow. “Are you done denying us?”

“No.”

His lips set in a firm line, but his shoulders drop with defeat. “Then we will be two ships passing in the night and nothing more. Do you understand?”

I don’t respond. How can I when two parts of myself are fighting a war with one another. But this must be done. This must be the way. Mustn’t it?

“You deny your voice on what we are meant to be, but you will not deny your voice on what you so clearly want from me. I have told you time and time again I would give you anything you ask for. And here I am, once again, giving you what you want. And this, this is what you want to become of us. I asked if you understood, Carina, and I want to hear you say it. Capisce?”

His declaration is the final nail in the coffin. And I have no one to blame but myself for giving him the nail. “Capisce.” My voice has never been so small.

With features as hard as stone he nods his head and leaves.

And my beating heart goes with him.

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