When She Tempts: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Fallen Book 2)
When She Tempts: Chapter 38

We hold our vigil in the living room.

I’m bundled up under a blanket on the couch, while Vale sits straight-backed on a chair, her eyes glued to the dark screen of the phone lying on the coffee table.

“There should be news soon,” she says as if to reassure herself.

“Dem will call you when it’s done.”

She sucks in her lips and shakes her head. “I should have gone with him.”

“You know he’d never have let you.”

“I’m just so stressed out. It feels like it’s been days since they left, not hours.”

I know exactly how she feels. Anxiety prickles beneath my skin as I worry about Giorgio. The moment Vale told me they left, some of my anger melted away.

Temporarily, remember?

Yeah, that’s what I’ve been telling myself. He’ll be on the hook again if he returns in one piece, but for now, I don’t have enough space left in my heart for anger. It’s filled with an anxious ache that won’t ease until they’re back.

I pat the spot on the couch beside me. “Come here.”

Vale glances over at me. “I can’t. I have too much nervous energy. I’m going to walk around.” She takes the phone with her and heads outside.

I’m tempted to follow her, but I decide not to in case she wants a moment to herself. Glancing around the room, I exhale a heavy breath. Then I reach behind the pillow and pull out the remaining two letters.

My mind goes to the place I’ve been trying to avoid.

What if Giorgio gets hurt? What if he dies?

An unimaginable sorrow permeates my chest. Flashes of our last encounter on the patio stream through my memory, this time colored in an even harsher light.

We weren’t good to each other that night.

It feels like a terrible end to something that was beautiful at one point.

He was my first kiss, my first love.

Was or is?

Even despite what happened, I can’t lie to myself.

I want to see him again.

I take one of the envelopes and tear it open.

Dear Martina,

Today, I thought about the first time I kissed you in the kitchen back in the castello. When I snapped out of it and realized what I’d done, I was horrified, but for the wrong reasons. I was afraid I’d hurt you, yes, but I was also worried you’d reveal what happened to your brother and damage my relationship with him.

I was wrong about many things, including Damiano. We’ve had a chance to speak more these past few days, and he’s made it clear that he’d never put his political aims above you. It’s made me respect him more. It’s also showed me that I projected my own insecurities onto you. I came up with all these external reasons why we could never work, but the real reason has always lived inside of me.

I didn’t think I was good enough for you. I thought that once you knew my history and who I really was, you wouldn’t want me anymore. And when you said you still did…I didn’t believe it. I was sure it was a fluke, and that one day, you’d wake up and come to your senses.

I’m sorry.

That’s why I pushed you away.

I let my fear guide me.

I promise you, I’ll never let fear guide me again.

Giorgio

I pull my bottom lip over my teeth. Vale was right when she analyzed him earlier. He’s starting to get it. He’s seeing his mistakes.

But is it enough? Does he truly understand everything he’s done wrong?

Well, there’s no point in leaving the last letter unread.

Dear Martina,

The days that have passed have given me clarity. I so angry when your brother announced you’d accepted Grassi’s proposal. Furious at Damiano, at that fucker Matteo, at you, at myself. I was so lost in that desperate anger that I didn’t consider you may’ve had your own reasons for agreeing to that marriage. My instinct was to assume you were doing it out of spite. I am a vengeful person, and I forget that you are not at all like me in that regard.

Now, I think I understand your motivations better. You love your brother, and you knew the marriage would help his cause. I think you wanted to make a sacrifice for him. A gesture of your love and commitment.

I’m sorry for taking that opportunity away from you, but I’m not sorry for breaking off your engagement. Matteo would never be good enough for you. He would have dimmed your light, and I couldn’t allow that to happen. Not when I’ve seen how bright you can shine.

I love you, Martina. To call you my wife would be my life’s greatest honor. But I shouldn’t have tried to ensnare you by making a deal with your brother. I’m so sorry. You are not an item I can negotiate for, and I promise I’ll never treat you again as such.

So I’m doing now what I should have done all along.

Marry me, piccolina. I’m asking you, only you.

Giorgio

The letter falls out of my hands just as Vale bursts into the room. “Mari! Dem just called!”

I rise off the couch, my heart in my throat. “What did he say?”

“Sal’s dead. Dem and Ras are okay,” she says, her eyes watering, but I can’t tell if it’s from sadness or relief.

I take a step forward. “And Giorgio?”

When she scrunches up her features, the floor falls from beneath me.

No. Please don’t say he’s—

“He’s hurt.”

A weakness unlike any I’ve ever felt before washes over me, and I crumble to the ground. Through my blurred vision, I see Vale run to me.

“Mari!” Her palms wrap around my shoulders. “He’ll be okay. He’s getting medical assistance now.”

“What happened?” I can barely hear her over the sound of blood rushing inside my ears. I can’t lose him.

“Polo was there. They fought. Giorgio…killed him.”

I swallow. So Polo still went to Sal after he left the castello. He sealed his fate by doing that. Giorgio would never have let him live.

Not after what he did.

“It sounds like Giorgio was injured in the scuffle,” Vale says.

“Injured where?”

“His leg, I think.”

“How bad is it?”

“I’m not sure. Dem didn’t give me too many details. But he didn’t sound too worried.”

Does that really mean anything? My brother has other things on his mind besides Giorgio. I want to scream. “Why didn’t you ask more questions? Why didn’t you give me the phone?”

Vale helps me up and pulls me into a tight hug. I think she’s afraid I’ll sink to the ground again, but the shock is already wearing off.

“I’m sorry. I should have asked. He was speaking so fast. I could barely get a word in, and then he had to run. He said he’ll call me back.”

A tear slips down my cheek as I clutch onto her. “Giorgio can’t… He can’t die.”

“I know. He won’t.”

Marry me, piccolina. I’m asking you, only you.

It’s not fair. I want to hear him say those words to me, and now he might never get the chance.

I pull away from Vale. “I want to go to them.”

She shakes her head. “We can’t. We have to wait here. Dem was explicit about it.”

The phone in her hand rings, and when she lifts it, we both see my brother’s name.

Vale picks it up. “Hello?”

“Ask him how Giorgio is!”

She nods. “Uh-huh. Okay, I understand. We’ll be on the lookout. How’s Giorgio doing?”

I watch her facial expressions as she listens to the response. When her skin grows paler, something breaks inside of me. I grab her biceps and start shaking her. “What is it?” My voice doesn’t sound like my own.

“He got shot, but it’s just a graze,” she says.

Shot?

I let go of her and take a few steps back.

When you called me from the castello and told me what had happened, I learned the meaning of fear for the very first time.

And now it’s my turn.

I thought I knew fear by now. We’d met on more than one occasion. But it’s never been this cold, this desolate before.

Vale says goodbye to Dem and turns to me. “Mari—’

“I need to be alone.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but I cut her off before she utters a word. “Just for a while. Please.”

She bites down on her lip, then nods.

My feet carry me upstairs, all the way to Giorgio’s room.

His bed is messy and unmade, just like it was back at the castello. I sit on the edge and press my face into his pillow, searching for his familiar scent.

It’s there.

And it fills me with longing so profound that in that moment, I secretly forgive all the ways he’s hurt me.

“Please live,” I beg against the pillow, my tears staining the fabric wet. “Come back to me so that I can give you grief. So that I can tell you all the ways you need to make it up to me. So that I can tease you and tempt you until you can do nothing but give in.”

I cry for a long time, my chest vibrating with anguished sobs. At some point, Sophia comes in and climbs onto the bed beside me, pressing her warm body against mine. She licks my face as if she knows I need to be comforted. I scratch her behind the ear and sit up against the pillows on Giorgio’s bed.

My gaze catches on the book lying on the nightstand.

I reach for it even though I already know what it is from that raggedy cover.

My copy of Jane Eyre.

It’s more worn than the last time I saw it, and when I imagine him reading it while lying here alone in bed, my eyes prickle. Did he think about me as he read the passages?

I flip through the pages and then press the book against my chest.

It’s past three am when I hear cars pulling into the driveway. I rush over to the open window and look out at the three black SUVs.

My brother steps out first.

I make a little sigh of relief, but I already knew from Vale that he was fine.

It’s Giorgio I need to see.

He doesn’t keep me waiting long. Another door opens, and Ras helps him out of the car.

My breath catches at the sight of him. He’s limping, and his arm and leg are bandaged up, but he’s okay. Despite his injuries, he looks formidable. I catch a glimpse of his profile illuminated by the moonlight, and something clicks into place inside my chest.

His face is fixed into a stiff expression as he says something to Ras. Is he in pain?

I want to run down there, but I hold myself back. He just killed a man—his half-brother—he’s injured, and he needs to rest. This isn’t the time to have our confrontation. For hours, I’ve been telling myself that all I need is for him to get back safely. He’s here.

The rest can wait.

I wait until I see him enter the house before I reluctantly return to bed, but sleep won’t come, and eventually, I decide to read.

I pick up my copy of Jane Eyre—I took it back from his room—and open to somewhere near the middle of the book.

“I had not intended to love him; the reader knows I had wrought hard to extirpate from my soul the germs of love there detected; and now, at the first renewed view of him, they spontaneously revived, green and strong! He made me love him without looking at me.”

A shiver runs through me.

Can it really be a coincidence that the first words I read match what’s in my heart? Or is it a sign?

A sign to move forward and step into a new chapter of my life?

I nearly lost Giorgio tonight. During moments like that, forgiveness comes more easily, but it’s not just that that’s made me soften. It’s his letters. His words and thoughts spoken openly and honestly.

He wants to be with me.

In the end, he chose me.

I close my eyes and let it all sink in.

Inside the nightstand, I replace a pink highlighter and run it over the passage just as there’s a knock on the door.

“Come in.”

Giorgio steps in. His jacket is missing, his shirt stained and half-undone. My eyes fall to his pants. They’re ripped and bloody.

And still, the sight of him makes warmth spread over my cheeks.

“Oh my God. You shouldn’t be up.” I jump off the bed. “You’re hurt. Did anyone treat your wounds?”

He takes a hobbled step inside and closes the door behind him. “It’s nothing, Mari. I needed to see you.”

My arms link with his, and I lead him to sit down on the edge of the bed. He’s warm to touch.

“You’re running a fever.” I press my palm against his forehead.

“They gave me something to bring it down.”

“Gio, you need to rest. Lie down.”

He follows my direction, his tired eyes glued to me. “Sit close to me.”

I scooch over and sit cross-legged by his side. He places his palm over my knee, and his warmth seeps through my leggings.

It feels so damn right.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, covering his hand with mine.

“I’ve felt better,” he says softly. “But I’ll be fine in a day or two. It’s just a few scratches.”

I brush my fingers lightly over his leg, and a white bandage peeks out through the rip in his pants. It’s stained with blood. “You’re still bleeding. Did Polo do this?”

Darkness seeps into his gaze. “Yes. He tried to fight me, but at the end, he paid for what he did to Allegra, Tommaso, and you.” His voice is hard, and it matches his expression.

“That couldn’t have been easy,” I say softly. “He was your brother.”

“No, Mari. He was nothing to me after what he did. Killing him was justice.” He glances away. “We are not defined by whose blood runs through our veins. We’re defined by our choices. His were exceptionally poor. I won’t miss him.” He closes his eyes.

I’ve never seen him look this tired. After a few minutes, I think he may have fallen asleep, but when I shift slightly, he cracks his eyes open.

“Don’t leave. I know things aren’t right between us, but just for tonight… Please, don’t leave.”

“I won’t.” I pick at my cuticle before I meet his gaze again. “I read your letters.”

Surprise flashes across his expression. “You did?”

“Mm-hmm.”

His jaw works. “What did you think?”

“You seemed apologetic,” I say mildly.

It makes him crack a smile. “I’m glad that came through.”

“And they explained a lot about what was going on in your head through it all.”

His smile fades away. “I did wrong by you, Mari.”

“Yeah, you did.”

He swallows, like he’s waiting to hear what else I have to say.

“But I guess I would be a hypocrite if I expected you to act perfectly in every situation life throws at you.”

Something like hope flickers in his eyes.

“You hurt me, Giorgio, and those letters alone haven’t fully erased that hurt. But after tonight, I realized just how much I still care for you. Knowing you were injured threw me into a fit. I couldn’t imagine never seeing you again.” My fingers twine with his. “I couldn’t imagine never holding your hand again.”

He makes a choked sound. “Piccolina…”

I take the book off my nightstand and hand it to him. “Open on the earmarked page.”

He does, and his eyes scan the highlighted text. The tension in his face eases. “And now you teach me the meaning of true happiness,” he says, his voice hoarse. He lifts himself onto his elbow and cups my cheek. “I love you so damn much, piccolina.”

“I love you,” I whisper. “And I’m willing to give us another chance. But let’s take it slow. Let’s be together and enjoy each other without any secrets or lies casting a shadow over us. Let’s not jump into marriage just for the sake of it. After everything that’s happened, let’s take our time.”

Understanding swims in his warm gaze. He drags his thumb over my bottom lip and nods. “However long you need. You are worth the wait.”

He wraps his palm around my nape and gently pulls my face toward his. Our lips meet. The kiss is different—slow, steady, intentional. He slips his tongue into my mouth, and he makes a satisfied sound in the back of his throat, as if he’s been waiting for this. The kiss spreads a familiar kind of warmth through me, and my body is soon buzzing with pleasure.

“Not a day will go by without me reminding you what you mean to me,” he murmurs. “That’s a promise.”

I smile against his lips. “I’ll hold you to it.”