I nodded, unsure how to respond. Part of me wanted to push, to ask why his sister had compared him to his father, but the other part knew better. Whatever lay beneath that surface was a storm I wasn’t ready to face.
Instead, I turned my gaze to the skyline and the city sprawling endlessly beyond the glass. I focused on the view, the beauty of a world that felt so far removed from the one I’d been thrust into.
But even as I tried to lose myself in the moment, I couldn’t ignore the man sitting across from me, his presence as inescapable as the bond that tied us together.
“Let’s sit on the terrace,” Raffaele said. “You’ll have a better view from there.”
The terrace was breathtaking. The Manhattan skyline stretched before us, a sea of glowing lights and towering skyscrapers. It was the kind of view I could never afford, and I didn’t want to miss out on a second of it. The cool air carried the scents of the city below, and for the first time in weeks, I felt peace.
Raffaele stepped out behind me, a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other, the smell of whiskey wafting from his breath. He looked utterly relaxed, which only made him more dangerous. The tight, black T-shirt clung to his frame, emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders and the tattoos that wound around his arms. And those damn gray sweatpants? They were a crime against my sanity.
I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze back to the view. I wasn’t doing myself any favors by ogling the man who looked like he had stepped out of some devilishly sexy cologne ad.
He set the glasses down on the small outdoor table and filled them, the deep red liquid glinting in the sunlight. “You’re quiet.” He handed me a glass and gestured for me to sit.
I settled into the chair across from him, wrapping my fingers around the stem of the glass. “Just taking it all in,” I replied, my gaze darting between him and the city. “It’s stunning out here.”
He nodded, leaning back in his chair with a casual grace. He sipped his wine, studying me for a moment before saying, “I assume you have questions.”
A short laugh escaped me. “That’s an understatement.” I took a small sip of wine, letting its warmth spread through me. “Why do you have an apartment in New York City? You don’t exactly strike me as someone who enjoys Broadway musicals and overpriced cocktails.”
He snorted. “This place serves a purpose. It’s an escape—a way to get out of my territory and away from my father.” He glanced out at the skyline. “And I like to see Eva.”
I hesitated, studying him. “So, about Eva. Why does she live here? I thought anyone related to you would…” I trailed off, unsure of how to phrase it.
Raffaele’s jaw tightened, and I was sure he wouldn’t answer me. But then he sighed. “Thirty years ago, my father had a child with a human prostitute. He didn’t know about Eva until her mother showed up, demanding money, when Eva was in high school. My father killed her mother without hesitation and would’ve killed Eva too.”
My stomach churned at the coldness of his words, though I could feel the weight behind them through the bond. He wasn’t just recounting events—he was reliving them.
“I saved her. Got her out of his reach and set her up here. A nice apartment, enough money to live on forever. She took it upon herself to go to law school and has since become one of the most renowned attorneys in New York. I’m so fucking proudof her. She’s… the best friend I never knew I needed. My only friend, really.”
The tenderness in his voice caught me off guard. My heart twisted, and I quickly masked the emotion, taking another sip of wine to steady myself. “That’s… a lot. But you’re a good brother for doing that.”
His eyes met mine, something unreadable flickering in their depths. “Good isn’t a word I’d use to describe myself.”
I didn’t argue, but the pang in my chest told me otherwise. Clearing my throat, I pressed on. “If you love it here so much, why not just stay? Why not leave it all behind—your father, your territory, all of it?”
He shook his head, a bitter smile curving his lips. “I can’t. I’m in too deep. And I can’t leave the people in my territory at the mercy of my father. The magistrate won’t protect them. They never have. It’s up to me.”
The conviction in his voice silenced me for a moment. I stared at him, trying to reconcile the ruthless mafia lord with the man who spoke so fiercely about protecting his people.
I took another sip of wine, the question tumbling out before I could stop it. “What was so important that you felt compelled to force me to marry you? And to endure that painful binding ritual?”
His expression darkened, his fingers tightening around his glass. “Vivian…”
“Don’tVivianme. You can trust me with this, Raffaele. I think I’ve earned that.”
I was sure he’d lash out at me for that, but he exhaled sharply and set his glass down. “There’s a woman,” he began, his voice rough. “Someone my father abuses regularly. She’s like a mother to me. She willingly bound herself to him decades ago to save someone she cared about. And he’s… he’s broken her in every way imaginable over the years. I want my father dead. And Ithink the Crimson Dominion may hold the keys to me achieving that goal.”
My throat tightened, and I had to blink back a tear. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve helped you. Willingly.”
He looked at me then, and the raw vulnerability in his eyes made my heart ache. “You didn’t even know me. I didn’t think you’d believe me. And I couldn’t risk you saying no.”
I reached across the table without thinking and put my hand on his. “I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I’m sorry your father is what he is.”
Raffaele’s gaze dropped to our hands, and for a moment, I felt the walls around him crack. “I’ve survived,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Still, it doesn’t make it right.”
