Page 11 of Prince of Malice

“What’s he doing here?”

“I think he goes to Valmont too.”

“How come we’ve never seen him before?”

“Maybe it’s just my luck?” It was a fair question, though I don’t feel very lucky. “Or it’s because last year I had no idea who he was.”

“Hopefully that’ll be the last we see of him.” He tries to reassure me, but it doesn’t quite work.

“I doubt it. I think I’m going to call it here.”

“What? Don’t let him ruin your night. I’ll grab you another drink.” “It’s fine. The drama’s just tired me out,” I say. “Don’t want to ruin your guys’ night. I have an early class anyway.”

Emilio takes a long, hard look at me, “Fine. Just let me know when you get back.”

“Of course. Now you guys have fun,okay?” I try my best to crack a smile and leave quickly before anyone can see through it.

Strolling down the driveway, I look out for any sign of Dominic having stuck around. I don’t know what I’m hoping for. As if five minutes of air will make him talk like a reasonable adult. I replay my encounters with him over and over in my head.

At the wedding, he came to me looking for a fight, and tonight, he did the exact same thing.

Maybe I should seek him out?

That won’t work. He’s far too territorial; he’ll fight me off like a wolf fending off another predator. He’s such a meathead—not thinking anything through and simply driving forward fueled by pure emotion and testosterone.

I wish I could act like that. To give in to my carnal desires and pursue what I want with no second thoughts or regrets. But I can’t. I’m a Valenti. We are held to a higherstandard, and if I want to get anywhere in life, I will have to live by them.

What would I even want? To be like my father? To grow into a leader and take over the family? Or is that only what he wants?

Is that what separates someone like me from someone like Dominic? Having true passion and desire? Pursuing what you want and breaking down any obstacle that stands in your way with reckless abandon?

If so, what doeshewant in life? Am I his obstacle?

At the wedding, he came after me and tried to start a fight and cause a scene. Back at the party, he basically tried to drive me away.

Does he want the Valentis and Rossis to divide again? Or maybe… Does he wantme?

My whole body shudders at the thought. There’s no way. The idea is almost laughable.

Dominic may act like a blind fool, but even he would know that such a want is not only wrong but dangerous. Right? Then again, why do I now feel so frustrated at that fact?

Is that what I want…? Dominic Rossi?

I toss and turn in my bed, doing the best I can to banish any thoughts of him from my mind, but no matter what, fragments of my feelings still linger. I rip the pillow from the mattress and slam it against my face, bellowing out a scream of frustration into it.

This is wrong; all of it is. He’s my stepbrother, and our family’s alliance is fragile enough already. If anything were to happen between us, it could fracture it for good. I have to stop thinking about him. Yet I can’t.

I grip the cold sheets around me, feelings and fantasies of Dominic flashing and pulsing in my mind. The vision of him shoving me into the wall again, but this time we’re alone. And unlike me, he’s not afraid to act and presses his lips against mine. Feeling the heat of his hands radiate onto my body as he gropes at me.

I fight off the image.

Another dream of him having already thrown me to the ground and mounting my exposed body, tearing my legs apart, and burying himself deep inside of me.

A gasp of breath escapes my lungs as I’mdrawn back to the reality of my empty room. My entire body shakes, the remaining feelings of pure ecstasy course through my veins, and I know that my mind has submitted to the idea of Dominic.

My head sags under the weight of my lethargy. Keeping my eyes toward the front of the lecture hall is almost too much for my body to manage. The droning sounds of my professor lull to become white noise that nearly sends me to sleep.

“Luca? You awake?” Emilio whispers as he nudges my arm and startles me into consciousness.

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