Page 76 of Beautiful Sinner

He took a step away, giving me a stern look. “You’re the kind of woman who can do anything you want when you set your mind to it. Play for me.”

As he moved to one of the chairs, sitting down and crossing his legs, I knew there was no way I could get out of his request. A part of me had thought I’d never be able to play music. For him to purchase such a gift was touching in all the right places. He was such a strange dichotomy of structured rage and the need for power, but this side was unexpected, even a bit more terrifying.

As I pulled the instrument into my hand, grasping the bow, I thought about what to play. I’d memorized dozens of pieces through the years, most of them a direct reflection of my personality and the unhappiness I’d felt growing up. I closed my eyes, easing the cool wood end under my chin, my heart rate skyrocketing.

Then I began to play. Within seconds, I was swept away by the music, allowing the haunting sound to become a life force shining brightly within me. The Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto was one of my favorites. The piece was filled with darkness as well as hope, a fitting selection for the moment. I’d always felt the various chords, my body humming from the intensity of the music, but today it seemed more dramatic, pulling me into an entirely different emotional moment.

There was no time or space, nothing but the music. When I finished, a single tear slipped past my lashes, trickling down my cheek. My chest was tight, the suffocation a heavy weight. I heard nothing, not a single sound. I was terrified that when I opened my eyes I’d find he’d left the room.

Yet when I did, the rush of emotions was even stronger. He remained in the same position, his hand in front of his face, a single finger stroking his chin.

And there were tears in his eyes.

A tentative smile crossed my face as I returned the violin to the stand, uncertain what to say. He finally looked away, taking a deep breath then standing. Taking long strides, he flung open the set of French doors, moving onto the patio.

I wasn’t certain whether to follow him, but I was compelled to do so. As I moved beside him, I noticed his hands were tightly fisted, his breathing heavy. The unknown tension was raw, electricity crackling between us.

“I don’t want this life for you,” he said, his voice even deeper than normal. “You deserve so much better. You deserve everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“I don’t know what I want any longer, Sevastian, but what I do know is that I can’t run from the life I was born into. You’ve shown me that. Neither can you. But we can carve out happiness, as long as you believe in fighting to do so.”

His actions were swift, the man gathering me into his arms as he’d done before, his eyes searching mine. “You will always be mine, Giada. I can’t promise you all the happiness you desire, but I can pledge I’ll do everything in my power to fulfill your wants and needs.”

When he pulled me into a tight hug, I remained thrown, a storm of thoughts and visions coursing through me like a wildfire. I wanted him. I needed him.

And there would be no life without him by my side.

Then the biggest shock of all.

I’d fallen hopelessly, desperately in love with him.

CHAPTER16

Sevastian

Two days had passed.

Two. Fucking. Days. Without. Information.

This wasn’t about patience any longer. This was about principle, if there was such a thing in my world. While I’d enjoyed spending time with Giada, my need for her never diminishing, it was her music that had kept me somewhat sane, able to keep from tracking down every man involved. The haunting melodies constantly infiltrated my mind, notes and chords remaining like a live wire in my brain.

She played passionately, her obvious love of music becoming my drug as well. I’d encouraged her to play often, her solitary performances often a prelude to another intimate moment. My entire body shuddered with the anticipation of driving my hard cock deep into her womb after the business of the day had been concluded.

It was easy to control every other aspect of my operations from the lush location, but I was itching to return to New York. The answers were centered deep within the Big Apple, even if remnants would drag me to South America. Fortunately, there’d been no additional attempts at invading the island.

Giada had relayed her memory of her father being threatened, but the call could have been made by any number of people. Still, it weighed heavily on my mind.

Being hassled by my father wasn’t helping my mood or my anger level. As I’d taken to doing more lately, I paced my office, more like a caged lion than a powerful leader.

The shipment was due at any time, every active soldier patrolling the property. The ocean. The sky. I’d know if anyone was closer than twenty miles. At this point, all was quiet. That kept me on edge, the unexpected phone call only adding to my agitated mood.

“Cesare is expecting an answer,” my father barked, as if we were suddenly willing to play the Italian’s game.

“I don’t give a shit what Cesare expects.” I clamped my mouth shut after that, maintaining patience leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

“It’s his damn daughter. He’s having a goddamn panic attack and I’d sick of hearing from his sorry ass.”

“Cesare Vincheti is only worried about the deal he made, not his own flesh and blood. He sold her a long time ago.” I remained infuriated by some of the things she’d told me. I’d thought my father was a callous man. Cesare was a piece of shit packaged in expensive Italian suits, preferring to play with his wealth rather than spending any time with his own children. I abhorred a man who pontificated about caring deeply for his family while ignoring them altogether.

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