Page 46 of Die for You
“Good,tesoro mio. You feel fucking incredible. This is mine.” And he slaps my ass cheek.
I grunt as it’s sure to leave a handprint.
“This is mine.” He slaps over my pussy.
I jolt at the force.
He commences fucking me harder.
I let go and surrender to everything because we will never be this way again.
Tears trickle down my cheeks at the thought.
I’m not dead inside after all.
“And this is mine.” He places his hand over my heart.
He fucks me without remorse, rubbing my clit with as much passion.
It’s too much.
I explode with a sob, crying tears of joy and sadness.
Lenny pumps into me wildly, and before long, he follows suit and comes with a roar inside me.
I collapse onto the counter with him cradling my back, and it’s here that we stay, breathless and sated, knowing this was our final goodbye.
And for good this time.
ONE MONTH LATER
Italy is utterly magical.
It’s modern, yet still true to its ancient roots.
It’s rich in history wherever one looks. It’s no wonder people come here and fall in love—with the food, the people, and the country itself.
It does feel as if magic is present, and tonight is one of those nights.
If this were any other woman, she would feel like a princess in her golden ball gown. A sweetheart neckline, which puffs out in layers of tulle, and a stunning emerald necklace with matching drop earrings complete the outfit.
But this is merely a uniform, a disguise to lure in my prey, and that is Enzo Cattaneo.
Vince texted me earlier today, informing me of a ball I must attend, as anyone who is anyone will be in attendance. I was told to buy a pretty dress. It was to be suggestive but still conservative.
Now older, I see what Gianna did the night Lenny and I attended that ball, the ball where I made my first kill.
I was nothing but a pretty pawn to do her dirty work while she watched on.
And tonight is no different.
She wants me to do the same thing to Enzo that I did to that disgusting pig. The only difference is that Enzo hasn’t done anything to me. He’s Gianna’s rival, not mine, and I’m suddenly grappling with the morality of taking a man’s life who I don’t even know.
It feels almost cowardly.
What of Enzo’s family?
How will they explain to his kids and his grandkids that their beloved father and grandfather is dead?
