Page 19 of My Dark Ever After
Throw in a state-of-the-art security system, and Villa Romano was one of the most heavily guarded fortresses in the country.
No one would harm Guinevere there.
Which meant it was the only option, even though I knew taking her there would open an entirely new world of problems. My nosy mother and siblings prying into our history, Leo’s strange animosity toward Guinevere, and my own reluctance to fall even more deeply in love with her after seeing her interact with the other few people I loved in this world.
I sighed, exhausted from being awake for well over forty hours, but unable to sleep until I had called and emailed everyone on the ground to ready for our arrival.
The only person who dared to make the situation harder than it already was, of course, was Martina.
“Raffa, this is a bad idea,” she said softly, or as softly as a woman like her could manage. “You’ll torture yourself having her around but being unable to really have her.”
“You think I do not know that, Tina?” I rubbed a hand over my eyes, trying to rid them of the sandy grit of fatigue. “There is nothing for it. Do you think my comfort is more important than her safety? I am the one who brought those thugs upon her head.”
She made a vague noise of distress. “You don’t know that for sure.”
My laugh was a quiet, bitter bark. “Sei seria?Do not be foolish. You think Guinevere has her own enemies in Italy?”
It was such a preposterous idea that I laughed again. But it reminded me of the photos I had taken from Guinevere’s apartment. I pulled them from the inner pocket of my suit and arranged the one I wanted on the table beside me to take a photo of it that I could send off to Ludo and Martina.
“I just sent through a photo of Guinevere and her family. She says that her father left Italy abruptly and has never agreed to tell her the reason why. Find him for me.”
“For you? Or as a present for the girl you wish to win back?” she quipped.
I was silent for long enough to make my point.
She sighed. “It is not wrong to want someone good for yourself, Raffa. None of us had ever seen you so happy as when she was living in the palazzo with you. None of us had ever dreamed of seeing you so at peace.”
“Peace is always temporary. It is chaos you can count on.”
Another sigh. “Unfortunately, you’re right. But maybe this time, you can see if Guinevere is capable of surviving the chaos. Of surviving and loving the true Raffaele. I may be biased, but he is as good a man as they come.”
It was rare to receive a compliment from Martina, so even though I was sunk knee deep in self-recrimination, I let her words soothe me.
“Good for the circumstances of our lives, perhaps,” I allowed quietly, working the words past the knot in my throat. “I try to be.”
“I know,fratello,” she said, lowering her voice too. “It does not go unnoticed. Have you ... have you considered telling her why they call you the reluctant mafioso?”
Across from me, Guinevere stirred in her sleep, calling out weakly. I stood to grab the cashmere afghan from the couch, balancing the phone between my ear and shoulder so I could carefully lay her beneath its folds, tucking the ends up under her feet so they would not get cold.
“No,” I finally answered, hesitating over Guinevere, caught by the magnificence of her beauty even in slumber. Her full red-pink mouth was the only spot of color in her pale face, framed by all that long, dark hair still tangled and bloodstained in places. She looked like a fairy-tale princess, someone meant to be kept safe and hidden away for her own safety in a tower until a good and kind prince could prove himself worthy of her affection.
The reality was that I was no Prince Charming, and I never would be. The only tower available to her was the guard tower at the gates of my fortified mansion, a necessity because I was a criminal with more enemies than sense. Instead of proving myself, I had betrayed her and then dragged her kicking and screaming into the dangerous waters of my world once again.
“No,” I repeated. “I will not tell her why I becamecapo dei capi. The point is, I am who I am, and there is no turning back.”
Truthfully, despite what my naive teenage self had hoped, there never had been.
There was no getting out of the Mafia alive.
And now Guinevere was a part of that world.
So I had to find some impossible way to free her, even though it meant leaving myself behind forever.
Chapter Six
Raffa
To my surprise, Guinevere slept through the transfer from plane to car. She curled herself into my chest as I carried her down the stairs to the waiting vehicle on the tarmac at the private airport outside of Firenze, and when I tried to move her onto her own seat inside the SUV, she whimpered.
