“Violetta.”
As though an invisible rope has been tossed around my waist, I come to an abrupt stop just one foot shy of the bathroom door, with my hand already reaching for the knob. I can’t gather the strength to face Tristano, which is why I don’t turn around right away.
“You should know better than that,ribelle.”
I lower my shaking hand to the knob, but don’t open the door. Instead, I drop my forehead against the wood with a dull thud. The energy from Tristano is so different than anyone I’ve ever been around, which is saying a lot because I’ve known powerful men in the criminal world my entire life.
But he’s…too much.
“No.” My whisper is nothing more than a puff of air, no stronger than an infant’s breath, yet the vibration of my vocal cords startles me. I swallow as though the lubrication will enable me to speak with greater ease than before and say the word again. “No.”
The tiny sound finally does more than ride on a gentle breeze. It hits the air, still weak but with a hint of volume. Giving voice to the rebellion building inside me is a release and it frees some of my frustration and anxiety. I know Tristano won’t hurt me, despite his apparent desire for me, and maybe that’s why I’m able to give him my refusal.
I lift my head and fist both hands by my side, imagining the material in the one hand is my courage and strength. Clutching it like a lifeline, I slowly turn around to face Tristano, bracing myself for the murderous expression sure to be found on his handsome features.
But that’s not what I see.
Yes, his silver eyes are lustrous and bright, and yes, he’s staring at me with enough intensity to pierce my mental armor. However, there’s also a gleam that has nothing to do with desire or anger, and everything to do with awe and wonder.
“Did you speak to me?” he asks.
Because his voice is almost as soft as mine, the words sound less intimidating. I lift my chin a fraction of an inch, not in defiance—although that personality trait may never leave me—but to show him I’m standing my ground.
“Yes.” The monosyllable leaves me on an exhale and it takes that forceful breath to push the sound forward and out into the open. It’s strange that this sensation utilizes so many different parts of me, but the muscle memory is there and it’s comforting.
Tristano’s eyes flash and then he’s stalking toward me with urgent steps as though I might bolt. It’s my gut reaction, but there’s nowhere for me to run and I’m tired of being confused because of him. His kisses have me forgetting reality and his touches make me want to throw all caution to the wind. That type of behavior will be detrimental to me.
AndI’llbe the one who ends up paying the price for my indiscretion, not him.
He’ll be able to walk away and leave me altered forever, unable to change back into what I once was,whoI once was before he came into my life. I’ve fought so hard to protect my identity and although I have to reframe that because of Carina’s actions, I won’t lose the parts of me that are connected to my soul.
My heart and mind, the two things Tristano could easily conquer and take prisoner.
I take a step back, my spine hitting the door when he gets too close and encroaches my personal space. But he doesn’t stop at a respectable distance, choosing to continue forward until there are only inches between us.
At the touch of his hand encircling my throat, panic zips through me and along my extremities to prepare me for flight. Yet, the tender sweep of his thumb down the column of my neck stills me.
“I can’t tell you how much I’ve wanted to hear you speak,” he says. I gaze at him with a quizzical expression, the weight of my thoughts creasing my forehead, and Tristano exhales. “It doesn’t make any sense to me either.” The side of his mouth tilts up in a half-smile and my heart expands in my chest until I worry it might flatline. The way he’s looking at me right now wrecks me more than any harsh word ever could.
A part of me wants to provoke him so his anger will return and I’ll be free of the trance he’s put me in with that roguish curve of his lips. It’s not hard to assume this lighter type of expression from him is uncommon. When would someone like Tristano have the inclination to be carefree and relaxed? Given that he’s the head of his family and runs a criminal organization, the answer is simple. Hardly, if ever.
Which is why I indulge myself and soak in the rare moment.
“What is it about you?” Tristano asks this as if he’s posing the question to himself instead of me, and there’s a great deal of confusion in his tone. He wants an answer and it’s one I don’t have.
But desperately want to know.
“Why do you tempt me in ways that have nothing to do with carnal thoughts and desires?” he says, briefly closing his eyes as though in pain. I almost reach out to soothe him, to brush away the lock of hair that’s fallen across his brow, but I don’t. Because if I touch him I won’t want to stop. “What makes you so special?”
Tristano deserves to know the truth about me, that I’m an average woman, easy to overlook. I’m not vivacious like my sister, who makes an impression wherever she goes. I’m not the most beautiful woman to walk the Earth and I don’t have any assets which would add to my value. All I am is myself.
Something I’m still trying to identify…
“I’m not special,” I say. It must’ve been too quiet because he lowers his head, so I try again. “I’m just ordinary.”
Tristano’s gaze drills mine as he searches it, looking for something I don’t want to share or reveal. “I’ve never met anyone like you,” he says finally.
I turn my head, not wanting him to see how unoriginal I really am. I don’t have low self-esteem, but neither do I think I’m memorable. I’ve been in my sister’s shadow all my life and it’s been a place of security for me. Carina never left me behind and would always bring me into the fold if I wanted. However, she knew I was happy to watch life from the sidelines.
