Page 95 of Vicious Hearts

I'm on cloud nine. I'm finally going to Lake Como. The place where my parents were happy, back when we were still a family.

I check the departure board. "The flight isn't for a while yet. Let's get a drink and celebrate!" I put my palm on his cheek. "Sorry. Soda with a twist?"

He nods. "Absolutely. No booze for me. I never knew how much I would enjoy having a clear head."

I tap his temple gently with my fingertip. "That's because you're not running away from what's inhere. Not anymore."

"You forgave me for everything I did and embraced everything I am." He wraps his arms around my waist and kisses me tenderly. "If you can show compassion for this monster, so can I."

I bite his lip. "You'remymonster. Don't forget it."

Ben bares his teeth at me, making me giggle. "You're fucking damn right I am. Wanna join the mile-high club?"

* * *

The villa is stunning. A neat cube of peach-colored brick, the windows edged with ornamental scrolls in the classical Italianate style. Steps lead from a paved patio to a small garden with a lush green lawn and a jetty onto the lake.

I take the keys from Ben and unlock the door, gasping at the tiled floor and modern Rococo decor. Ben smiles as I gawp.

"It's just a house,charodeyka."

"A house?" I wheel around as I speak, and Ben laughs at my outraged expression. "It's not a fucking house! It's a palace. A beautiful, beautiful thing."

"Takes one to know one," he says, taking my bag from my hand. "Do you love it?"

"God, yes!"

He puts my bag down beside his own. "Would you be surprised if I told you we own it?"

It takes me a moment to find my words. "Yes, I would be surprised. Because how could you possibly—“

"I'm back in with the Bratva," he says. "Of course, I’ll keep my respectable public-facing image as a freelance profiler, but we’re gonna be living it up from now on. Crime pays, remember? As for this place, well, Ali bought it as a gift for you. She said to tell you she paid for it with the money she found down the back of her couch."

I laugh. It's a running joke between Ali and me that she is terrible at being rich. She has the poor person's mindset and always will, but she loves to spend money on the people she loves.

"So when you said she picked out somewhere to stay, you meant she bought me a house? She's an idiot and the sweetest person I know."

"This isn't the only thing she was involved in choosing."

Ben reaches for his inside pocket, and I frown, not catching on. He drops onto one knee.

"I can't fighteveryman who looks at you, so I better make it legit."

Oh, sweet Jesus Christ fuck! How dumb am I?

"Roxy. Mycharodeyka. My love. Long ago, I told you I don't do fade-to-black romantic scenes. I guess I lied."

I'm crying. I fan my face with my hands, and he smiles.

"I love you," he continues. "I loved you from the moment we met. I was mortified to have hurt you and was terrified we'd get close, only for me to hurt you some more. You were far stronger than me. Without your good heart and faith in me—inus—I'd never have summoned the courage to accept the bad in meandthe good. I'm a screw-up, but no one will ever love you like I do."

Ben holds up a black velvet box. Inside is a platinum ring, a cluster of diamonds cradling a round, brilliant-cut aquamarine.

"It matches your eyes," he says. He takes my hand. "Marry me, Roxy. Fuck everything else. I've never needed anyone before, but God knows I needyou. What do you say?"

"I say yes."

I sink to the ground before him, and he slides the ring onto my finger. The early evening light streams through the windows, the gemstone's facets reflecting the pinkish sky.

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