"You can insult me all you want, but I'm done putting up with you." I grit my teeth and push against him.
"Easy, little tigress, you're distorting my words. I'm not insulting you. Beauty and ugliness are both subjective," he tries to explain himself, but I'm sick of him and his superficial world.
"No. You're the one distorting the meaning of this," I grab onto the book, but he doesn't let go. We're both holding onto one corner, our eyes meeting and having their own personal battle. "You're missing the point entirely. The ultimate type of love is the one that makes you whole, not the desire, which is purely physical. Those who were once one being were separated by the cruel gods, condemned to search for their other half for an eternity, to never be whole without them." My voice trembles with the intensity of my passion. Because what if there is such a thing as a soulmate—my other half? He'll be able to accept and loveallof me, including my ugliness.
"Who would have thought you'd be such a romantic? You, the cynic who proclaimed to be so empty. What would makeyouwhole, I wonder?"
"Notyou," the words tumble accusingly from my mouth, and his eyebrows shoot up in a challenge.
"Really," he drawls, moving closer and backing me further into the furniture, the shelves digging painfully into my skin, "too bad I'm the only one who'severgoing to fill you up, little tigress." His hand moves up the column of my neck slowly, his fingers wrapping around my throat and applying soft pressure.
"Let go!" My nostrils flare as my anger mounts. "I don't want anyone's hand-me-downs." I relish the way his eyes widen, the insult hitting its mark.
"Little tigress, it seems we're at an impasse." His thumb caresses my skin in circular motions, applying increasing pressure to his hold. "You need to learn when to sheathe these claws of yours," he says as his other hand grabs onto my wrist, the book falling to the ground. "I'm patient, but even I have a limit."
"Oh, really?" I ask innocently, batting my eyes at him. "I'm not afraid of you, Enzo Agosti. So go ahead, do your worst."
"Do my worst?" he chuckles, his thumb moving up and under my chin, pushing it up so I'm staring right into his eyes. He's so close I can feel his breath on my skin. "What if I want to do my best?" His question throws me off completely, and my eyes widen for a second before I realize his intention.
Then his lips are on mine.
I'm so shocked, I just freeze.
His lips are soft and gentle—the complete opposite of him. He's slowly teasing a reaction out of me, and just as I start returning the kiss, he stops.
"Things are rarely as they seem, little tigress." He takes a step back, his eyes still rooted on my lips. "You're too quick to judge. Eros is indeed desire, but it's not always physical." He raises one finger to my forehead. "Sometimes we desire someone's mind, and we want to possess the spirit." His hand moves lower, his fingertips grazing my chest before settling over my heart. "It's easy to take the body; the soul is the one forever out of reach."
I shove his hand away.
"You're right. You can always take my body by force, but you'll never have my soul," I reply triumphantly.
"Is that a challenge?" He quirks an eyebrow at me, almost amused.
"It's a prediction," I say confidently.
"Allegra, Allegra," he makes a tsk sound, shaking his head slowly, "what am I going to do with you?"
"Leave me alone?" I ask, my tone playful yet hopeful at the same time.
"Maybe I should," he starts, and I'm surprised at his quick acquiescence, but then he finishes the sentence with a shrug, "doesn't mean I will," and my face falls.
He turns to leave, but not before I catch the slight pull of his mouth, the satisfaction of having the last word.
Alone in the library, I pick up the book again, intent on finishing it. In the end, I begrudgingly have to admit that Enzo might have been onto something.
Desire becomes increasingly nuanced, from shallow to deep. And in the end, the love that is born out of desire is all-encompassing. It becomeswholebecause by desiring the soul—the very essence of being—everythingbecomes beautiful.
"What doyou mean Imustgo down?" I look at Ana in disbelief.
"I'm sorry, but Signora said that from now on, if you want to eat, you'll have to come to the dining room. She's prohibited every member of the staff from bringing you any food."
I'd been trying to avoid Lucia as much as possible, preferring to eat my meals in my room rather than risk another confrontation with her. It seems my plan had only annoyed her further into doing this.
I clench my fists, frustration gnawing at me.
With Enzo and Rocco gone most days, it's just me and Lucia, which means she doesn't have to pretend she's anything but the vicious witch she is. And now, threatening to starve me if I don't follow her dictates?
I shake my head, unsure how to proceed. I know she's doing this to rile me up and to get me out in the open so she can torment me some more. Too bad for her that I'm not about to allow that. I'll just have to be on my guard.
