Author: Cora Reilly
Category: Other
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She stared out of the windshield, fidgeting with her shorts. “I used to. A long time ago. When I was little, we managed two or three nice Christmas evenings. The rest were a mess.” She sighed. “After my dad abandoned us, my mother was busy working all the time to get money for meth. She forgot things like Christmas and my birthday. They weren’t important to her. And my dad...” she shrugged “...I suppose he was glad to be away from us and the responsibility.”
She still hadn’t mentioned her mother being a whore, but I allowed her that small reprieve. “That’s why you shouldn’t feel responsible for your father. He isn’t an honorable man. He should protect his own flesh and blood and not offer it to someone in exchange for a debt.”
She flushed. “You know about that?”
“Soto told me.”
“It’s not easy to abandon him. I still love him, despite his flaws. I can’t help it.”
I grimaced. “Love is a weakness, a sickness. You’ll see where it gets you.”
Her blue eyes searched mine, still looking, still hoping. “You can’t mean that. Love is what makes us human, what makes life worth living. Love is unconditional.”
She said it with so much fervor that I knew she was trying to convince herself as much as me. “Do you really believe that? Do you think it turned you into the person you are today? Because love definitely didn’t make me who I am. Blood and hate and thirst for revenge kept me going. They still do, and so do honor, pride, and loyalty. So tell me, Leona, did love form you?”
Leona clutched her backpack against her chest. “Not me. But nobody ever loved me like that,” she said quietly. “My parents always loved their addiction more than me, and there was never anyone else. So I suppose love didn’t form me.” She looked me square in the eyes, a challenge. Did she expect pity? She needn’t worry. Pity was an emotion I’d given up a long time ago. I was furious. Furious on her behalf.
“Then what did?” I asked.
CHAPTER 12
LEONA
“Then what did?”
That question threatened to unravel me. “I don’t know,” I admitted. I looked down at the scars on Fabiano’s chest, at the tattoo on his wrist, appraised the confident way he held himself. Pride and honor. He oozed it. His body was a testament to his convictions ... to how far he’d come. And me?
I let out a small, empty laugh. “Hope for the future kept me going. I was a good student, and I worked hard. I thought I’d have a bright future after high school. I thought I’d go to college, get a law degree, and become something more than the daughter of a...” I swallowed the word whore, not able to admit the truth to Fabiano “...drug addict, but I’m failing.”
Fabiano’s face still showed no pity, and I was glad for it. There was something dark and fierce in his eyes. “If you don’t fight for what you want, you won’t get it. People like us don’t get their wishes handed to them on a platter.”
How could he compare us? He was strong and successful, admittedly not in the conventional sense, but he had what he longed for. The Camorra was his passion. “You are a born fighter. I am not.”
“I wasn’t born a fighter. I was formed into one by the shit thrown my way over the years, Leona.”
I wanted to ask him about his past, but he was always so cautious when he mentioned anything related to it. I let out a breath. He leaned over, cupped the back of my head, and kissed me. I sank into the kiss. I needed it now, needed to feel something other than desperation. His tongue danced with mine, and his scent engulfed me. I closed my eyes, allowing my body to relax.
He pulled back. “I will fight your battles for you now, Leona. I told you I’d protect you.”
I nodded, as if my approval meant anything. Fabiano’s overwhelming presence, his unrelenting possessiveness, they were something I never encountered before. My parents had never displayed any kind of emotion toward me. I had been an afterthought for them—sometimes useful, sometimes bothersome, never something to waste too much energy on.
Deep down, I knew Fabiano’s attention would come with a price. I’d pay for surrendering to him in one way or another. But right in this moment I couldn’t care less.
I got out of the car, my legs shaky. I could feel Fabiano’s gaze on me all the way into the apartment. I leaned back against the door and released a breath. It felt as if he’d laid me bare without touching me, as if he knew my deepest desires, my darkest fears.
I functioned on autopilot that day. Cheryl didn’t say anything, but I could tell that she wanted to.
Fabiano was waiting for me when I got off at two-thirty. He didn’t start the car right away. His eyes darted down to the modest black heels I was wearing then over the blue dress. Both weren’t anything special and had been on sale, but they were new. I bought them this afternoon before work to cheer myself up.
“I want to show you where I live,” Fabiano said simply.
The tiredness melted away. “Okay.”
I wasn’t sure what else to say. This seemed like a very personal thing, like another level in our ... what? Relationship? It was difficult to put a label on it. I had a feeling Fabiano didn’t take many people to his apartment. He seemed like someone who kept his private space well protected. Like he’d said, he didn’t like to share, and that he wanted to share his apartment with me, if only for a few hours, made me happy. At the same time, however, I knew that being alone in his apartment, with a bedroom at our disposal, opened up new possibilities I wasn’t sure I was ready for ... mentally. My body was a different matter.
His blue eyes regarded me for a few heartbeats, perhaps reconsidering his decision.
As we drove, we passed familiar sites like the Venitian and the Bellagio, and I wondered if I’d ever manage to get a job in a place that was even half as good. Maybe Fabiano could help me. He knew more than enough people in Las Vegas, and I didn’t even want to know how many good hotels and restaurants were owned or controlled by the Camorra. I also didn’t want to ask him for that kind of favor. I could only imagine how many people tried to gain something just from knowing him. I didn’t want to be like that.
Silence filled the space between us. The soft hum of the engine lulled me to sleep, and I wondered if agreeing to go to his apartment this late at night was a mistake. Did Fabiano expect me to spend the night with him?
My thoughts were cut short when we pulled up in front of a sleek skyscraper and drove down into an underground parking garage.
“No villa in the suburbs with a park-like garden for you?” I asked, hoping my voice didn’t give away my nerves.
He grimaced. “I prefer to live in the center of life. The suburbs are for families.”
We got out of his car. The clean, new smell of the parking garage filled with dozens of luxury cars already made me feel out of place. Even new clothes wouldn’t change that. My heels clicked on the white marble of the elevator as we got in. Fabiano’s hand on my lower back was already oddly familiar. He pressed the button for the top floor, and the elevator began its silent ascension. Fabiano didn’t say anything. Perhaps he was having second thoughts about bringing me to his home.
The elevator came to a stop, and the doors glided open without a sound. A long corridor with a plush beige carpet and cream-colored walls with golden accents stretched before us. Fabiano led me toward a dark wooden door at the end of it, which seemed to be the only door on this floor, except for the emergency exit.
My stomach fluttered with nerves when he opened the door wide for me. I stepped past him into his apartment, and the moment the light came on, I froze.
I’d never seen luxury like this before. We stood in the entrance area, which was on a higher level than the living area. Vaulted ceilings were supported by marble columns. I stepped down the three steps, my heels clacking loudly on the smooth marble. I wished I’d worn the shoes Fabiano had bought for me and not the ones I got for half-price at Target today.
The marble floor was black and white and laid out in geometrical design. Four white couches surrounded an enormo
us low, black marble table. Above the seating area, a huge lamp that looked like a ginormous silver ball of wool hung from the two-story-high ceiling. To the left was a dining table that could seat at least sixteen people. Like the floor, it was also made of black marble. Further to the left was the open kitchen with its white appliances. My eyes were drawn back to the living area and the floor-to-ceiling windows. A huge terrace with white columns overlooked the Strip with its illuminated skyscrapers and flashing lights.
I hesitated, not sure if I was allowed to wander around.
Fabiano made an inviting gesture, and I walked toward the windows and looked out. Now I could see that the white columns surrounded a long square pool that glowed with turquoise light in the dark.
Fabiano opened the terrace door for me, and I stepped out. Walking past the pool, I stopped at the balustrade. Down below, I could see the Strip with the Eiffel Tower. I breathed in deeply, stunned by the sight and the apartment. I didn’t dare ask what it had cost. Crime paid off, if done right. My parents had never figured the right way to do it, though.
Fabiano came up behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist. He kissed my shoulder then up to my ear. A familiar tingling filled my body as I leaned into him. I didn’t want to push him back, didn’t want to consider how it looked being alone in an apartment with him at night. I just wanted to be, wanted to relish in the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen.
“This is incredible,” I whispered. I could imagine living here, could easily imagine enjoying it. I never considered myself a girl who longed for these kinds of things, but I’d never been surrounded by it before.
He hummed his approval then nudged my hair away from my throat. He kissed the skin over my pulse point then gently bit down. I shivered at the possessive gesture. His mouth moved lower, and he licked my collarbone. His hands moved from my waist up to my ribcage, the pressure light and yet almost overwhelming. His presence, our surroundings, the possibilities of what might happen next were a tidal wave tossing me around.
“Fabiano,” I said, uncertain, but my voice died in my throat when his hands cupped my breasts through the fabric of my dress. Only once had a guy groped at my breast, and it had been painful and disgusting; I had pushed him off and thrown up afterward.
Fabiano’s touch was soft and yet sent spikes of pleasure through the rest of my body. I could feel my nipples harden, and I knew he would feel it against his palms. Embarrassment fought with need. I never wanted to be intimate with someone. Physical closeness had always been associated with bad things for me. Watching my mother sell her body had made me wary of allowing a man to get physical with me. I dreamed of falling in love and eventually making love with a man someday, but Fabiano didn’t believe in love, and I wasn’t sure if I did anymore either. Perhaps I’d have to settle for less. It wasn’t the first time in my life. Being with Fabiano made me feel seen and protected. That was more than I’d had in a long time. And God did it scare me, because I knew how easily it could be taken from me.
His palms slid up to my shoulders, and he began pushing my dress down. My stomach tightened with anticipation and fear when the fabric gave way pooled around my waist. The cool breeze touched my skin, and my thin bra didn’t protect me—neither from the night’s cold nor from Fabiano’s hungry gaze. No one had ever looked at me like that. I closed my eyes.
FABIANO
Goose bumps flashed across Leona’s smooth skin, and the outline of her erect nipples strained against the thin fabric of her bra. My cock hardened at the tantalizing sight. Fuck. I wanted her, wanted to possess her. I ran my fingers over her ribcage then up to the edge of her bra. It wasn’t spectacular, nothing pricy like lace or silk, and yet she made it seem like the sexiest garment in the world. Her body tensed under my touch, but not with eagerness. I regarded her face, her closed eyes, the way she was biting down on her lower lip and her lashes that fluttered. She was nervous and scared. I wondered what had her feeling that way. I definitely hadn’t given her reason to be scared of me, which was surprising in itself.
I leaned down to her ear. “Have you ever been with a man?”
I knew the answer. I was too good at reading body language and people in general not to know, but I wanted to hear it from her lips. I was fucking eager to have her admit it.
She shuddered and gave a small shake of her head.
“Say it,” I ordered.
Her eyelashes fluttered open. “No, I haven’t been with a man.”
I kissed her throat. “So I will be your first.” My cock twitched with eagerness.
“I won’t sleep with you tonight, Fabiano,” she whispered.
I straightened, stunned by the words. Her expression showed mostly resolve, but there was a flicker of uncertainty as well. “I’m not used to waiting. For anything.”
She didn’t move away from me, her back still pressed against my chest, my fingers still on her ribcage. It heaved under my touch. One deep breath and her spine straightened. “Some things are worth waiting for.”
“And you are one of them?” I asked.
She looked away, out toward the city lights. Her lashes fluttered again, but this time it was to keep the tears contained. “I don’t know.”
The words were so quiet, the wind almost carried them off before they reached my ears.
For a moment I felt like smashing the world, like burning down everything. I wanted to go after her father and see the life drain from his eyes slowly. I wanted to find her mother and cut her throat, see her sputter on her own blood. These emotions were foreign, not because of their brutality or fierceness, but because they were on behalf of a woman. I’d had bouts of protectiveness when I was younger, over my sisters—before they left me and before I became the man I was today.
I traced my fingers down her ribs then slid my arms around her stomach. She shivered. “Let’s go inside. You’re cold.”
Her eyes searched mine, curiously, hopefully. When she didn’t find what she was looking for, she nodded slowly and let me lead her inside. The wonder returned to her expression as she took in the living area. I’d spent most of my life in luxury, had taken it for granted most of the time until it had been ripped from me. Leona had never had anything close to it. I pulled her against me, her hard nipples pressing up against my ribs.
“Stay with me tonight.”
Her eyes widened. Then she gave one frantic shake of her head. “I told you, I won’t sleep with you.”
Not tonight, but soon. Leona might still believe she could evade me, but she was mine.
“I know,” I said in a low voice then slid my hands over her back.
She relaxed then tensed as if remembering herself. “Then why? Why have me spend the night if there’s nothing in it for you?”
Fuck, if I knew.
“Stay,” I said again, an order this time. She looked up at me, fearful for all the wrong reasons.
“Okay,” she breathed, resigned and tired.
She’d had a long day. Working at Roger’s Arena wasn’t easy. I lifted her into my arms. She didn’t protest, as if she realized it was a losing battle. I carried her toward the stairs.
Leaning her cheek against my chest, she whispered, “Please don’t hurt me. I don’t think I can handle it.”
I paused with my foot on the first step, glancing down at her crown of amber curls. It wasn’t meant the way people usually meant it when they begged me not to hurt them. It would have been easier if it were. I wasn’t sure I could stop myself from hurting her. I was dragging her into a world where the things she longed for were even less attainable than in the hopeless life she was used to.
Her breathing had flattened. Had she fallen asleep?
She shouldn’t have, not in the arms of a man like me. Her trust was foolish and completely unfounded. I ascended the stairs and entered my bedroom. I never brought anyone here. I put Leona down on my bed, and she didn’t wake. I allowed myself to regard her. Her narrow hips, her round breasts barely hidden from view by the sheer fabric of
her bra, the outline of her pussy underneath her panties. I raked a hand through my hair. Women were supposed to be entertainment and a pleasant distraction. So far Leona was neither of those things, but I couldn’t allow her to be anything else. My life was dedicated to the Camorra, my loyalties belonged only to them. It couldn’t be any other way. I got out of my clothes and stretched out beside Leona in my briefs. I watched her as she slept beside me peacefully. Never had a woman slept in my bed. I never saw the appeal. I still thought of many more entertaining things to do with Leona than sleep, but watching her peaceful expression gave me a sense of calm I hadn’t felt in a long time, perhaps if ever.
I curled my arm over her hip protectively and allowed myself to close my eyes. As I listened to her rhythmic breathing, I began to drift off.
I woke with Leona’s body curled into me, one of her legs intertwined with mine, her breathing fluttering against my bare chest. I’d never woken up beside a woman, let alone allowed that kind of physical closeness. Sex was a different kind of closeness and all I would permit.
I carefully untangled myself from her. She turned onto her back, the blankets pooling at her hips. Her face was relaxed, no sign that she was going to wake any time soon.
She was supposed to be fun.
That was all Remo would ever allow.
Fun.
I brushed my thumb over the small nub straining against her bra. It pebbled under my touch. Leona’s lips parted, but she didn’t wake. I wasn’t a good man, nothing close to it, and it was time I stopped acting like I was ... like I could be. The bracelet Aria had given me was stuffed inside my sock drawer and it would stay there.
I trapped her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and began moving it back and forth slowly, feeling it harden even more. Leona shifted her legs. Was she feeling it between her perfect thighs? I tugged, and she let out a low moan. Her eyelids fluttered then opened sleepily before finding me. Surprise and shock flashed across her face. I tugged at her nipple once more, and her lips fell open with a gasp. My eyes on her face, daring her to stop me, I lowered my mouth to her breast and tugged her nipple with my lips, sucking it lightly through the fabric. That stopped any protest she might have had in mind. I watched her hooded eyes as I sucked harder.