I’m stunned. I have no words, and if ever I recognized a soul in torment, it’s his.
I should be scared, terrified even at the intensity in his expression, and then it fades almost as quickly as it arrived, and he drops his hand, stepping away with a soft, “We should shower and change. You must be hungry.”
He turns and I have no words.
What just happened?
Like a sheep, I follow him inside, and he sighs. “There are two rooms in this penthouse. You take the one over there, and I’ll set up in the other one. One hour should be enough time, but if you need longer, well, take as long as you need.”
He is gone before I can comment, and as I face time on my own, I am struggling to understand what just happened.
There isnothing to do but head inside the room, but what happened back there has dulled the joy of spending time in a place like this. If anything, I prefer the beat-up old gîte rather than this opulent palace because I know he meant well, but this is old news to me. My father was richer than most, and we lived in places like this. I had everything money could buy, minus emotion. The only love I experienced was from my sisters and the nuns at the convent. NowI am once again in a world of material wealth with no emotion attached.
Julius is of this world and is like my father in so many ways except in the way he looks at me. It’s different. Almost as if he has something to say but can’t form the words. He is struggling, I sense it; hell, it’s pretty obvious, but I was so captured in the excitement of the moment I forgot to look.
I see it now. The danger, the pain and the darkness. Julius is a tortured soul, and I am not helping with that.
On auto, I head inside the bathroom, and the joy of the huge freestanding tub dims in comparison to my experience of the one at the gîte where Julius ran the water for me to make me happy.
I feel so lonely surrounded by luxury. I always have been. It’s bringing back sour memories that I don’t wish to dwell on, and yet as I sink into the warm sweet water, a lone tear trickles from my eye as I sense my new beginning is merely just revisiting the past.
19
JULIUS
Inever realized this would be so hard. Why does doing the right thing feel like the wrong one? It’s as if I kicked a puppy dog who only wanted to please me, but I’m in too deep already, and I reacted to that. I wanted to kiss Rose so badly it physically hurt, and walking away was the only option before I made a fool of myself and terrified her.
Before I met her, I wasn’t bothered whether our plan worked or failed. We have enough money, and marriage to any woman wasn’t on my agenda just yet.
My brother Nico stunned the family when he brought his fiancée home for Christmas. We never even realized he was dating, which was a blow to my father, who had already arranged a marriage between Nico and his friend’s daughter, Desiree Bendetti. I kind of figured this was another one of my father’s schemes. An arranged marriage for the convenience of the family and not a lot in it for me.
But then I met Rose, and everything changed, and I’m still figuring out what to do about that.
If anything, I wish I could phone Nico and ask for hisadvice in a roundabout way. Brotherly love isn’t strong in our household, and I would be reluctant to voice my doubts. However, I’m having them and I’m stuck in a situation I never signed up for, and what is terrifying me the most is losing Rose to our enemies, to her sisters and to that fucking convent.
The minute she walks away from me, it will be game over, and I am terrified I won’t be the same man she first met. I am changing inside, and I don’t know what the hell to do about that, so distance must be the answer to allow me to rebuild the man I was. Not this lovesick pussy who treads carefully around her. Not this geek who can’t string a sentence together when she smiles in my direction.
I am the feared son of Giovanni and Sophia Ravera. The cruel bastard who delights in causing pain and misery to our enemies.
The cold shower does little to revive me, and even downing several shots of the complimentary bourbon does little to change anything. I am screwed without actually being screwed, and I suppose that is half the problem. I want Rose badly, physically and mentally, and yet for once I’m unable to act. It’s not because of her, even. The old me wouldn’t give a shit and would have fucked her back in France, but the new pathetic creature I’ve become wants to make it good for her. Wants her to come to me, and yet it’s painful to be the good guy for once in my life.
By the time I’ve showered and changed my clothes, I feel a little better. Perhaps distance is what I need to clear my head.
I head into the living area set between the two rooms and once again splash some bourbon into a glass. I make use of my time by arranging two flights to Denver. There is a flight that leaves around midday tomorrow, and I waste notime in booking two first-class seats. I rarely travel commercial but this time we must blend in with the crowd, and part of me wonders if traveling first-class is the best way to do that.
However, it’s a long flight, and the fewer people around us, the better, and as soon as I have my confirmation, I place the call to Eddie.
“Hey, boss.”
“Hey. Any news?”
“As expected. When we landed, we had an unwelcoming committee on the road out of the airport.”
“I take it you were successful; otherwise, you wouldn’t be speaking to me now.”
I’m concerned because Francesco Carlos is a formidable enemy and isn’t one to tread carefully and would have set up an ambush.
Eddie chuckles.
