by Bella J
He eyed me speculatively before too placing his glass down. “Fine. I’ll be frank.”
“Thank God.”
“A marriage between you and Tatum would be the perfect way for you to show Vico you are not afraid, that you are not hiding.”
I shrugged. “But I’m not afraid. I’m not hiding.”
“You’re hiding her.”
“Was me making her a part of Ricardo’s interrogation and execution not proof enough that I’m not hiding her?”
“It’s not enough, Castello. She’s still inside these walls, hidden from the outside world. You need to show Vico you’re confident in the choices you made. By hiding her, you’re letting everyone think you’re afraid, that you think your brother has the means to take what is yours. He already suspects that the best way to get to you is through her. Show him that you do not fear him or the vendetta he has against you. That you are confident enough to take risks.”
I leaned forward, gritting my teeth. “I will not risk her.”
“Then that is your first mistake.”
I jumped up from my seat. “Would you risk Angelique? Would you risk your own wife?”
Uncle Gino too stood up from his seat. “I put her at risk every goddamn day. Every time she steps out of this house, whether at my side or not, her life is at risk. For as long as I’m breathing her life will be at risk. It’s a constant threat, a threat that will never go away. But it’s a risk I’m willing to take, a threat I’m willing to face if it means I can give her and my children even the tiniest resemblance of a normal life. And if you care about Tatum at all, you would do the same. She is not an animal you can keep caged in.”
I leaned even closer to him. “And if something had to happen to Angelique because you decided the risk was worth it, what then?”
Sadness clouded his expression, worry lines forming across his face. “If something should happen to her because of me, living without her would be the worst punishment. The pain and grief I would feel every day of my life would be my penance.”
I continued to stare at him. Uncle Gino and I might not have seen eye to eye at the beginning, but I respected him. I trusted him. And I knew he loved his wife, his children more than anything else. But like me, he was trapped in the Fattore curse. Being a member of our family had its advantages, but men like us paid dearly for it. Every privilege had a price.
Uncle Gino placed his hand on my shoulder. “Having her in your life would mean constant worry for you. But not having her in your life would be a constant torture. Now which is the lesser of two evils, Castello?”
“Living in torture, but knowing she’s safe is the unselfish thing to do.”
Uncle Gino smiled before patting his palm on my cheek. “Unfortunately, we are human, which means we are a selfish species.”
He walked toward the door. “And, Castello, bring her to dinner tonight. I’d like her to meet Angelique. After all, she has been living in my home for weeks now. It would be the unselfish thing to do…for you to share her with us.” He winked, and walked out.
Why did it feel like every time my uncle and I engaged in some sort of conversation it always ended up with us discussing Tatum? It was like he saw right through me, as if he knew what I was thinking and feeling whenever he looked at me.
But could he be right? Was me keeping Tatum hidden a mistake? I didn’t hide her because I wanted to. I was only trying to protect her. I knew my little brother better than anyone. Tatum would be his target, not me. Even though I was the one who pulled the trigger, killing our mother, the entire war raging between us now started with her…and I was afraid it would ultimately end with her.
13
TATUM
When I heard his footsteps outside the bedroom door, I held my breath. He seemed to know me better than I knew myself. How was I going to manage keeping my secret from him?
I tied my robe, my hands brushing against my stomach. My heart skipped a beat.
I have to keep this secret.
“Why are you not in bed?”
I looked up. “I’m feeling better.”
“Doc tells me he’s been up here to see you again.”
My heart stopped. “What else did Doc tell you?”
“Just that he’s sure your fainting spell was stress related.”
I let out a breath, and tried to muster up a smile. “See, I told you I was fine.”
He sauntered toward me, his eyes never leaving mine. He managed to always make me feel like the prey whenever he approached me with such confidence, such hunger reflecting in his eyes.
“Uncle Gino would like us to join them for dinner. Are you up for it?”
No. “Yes.”
He smiled. “Good.” He took my chin between his fingers. “After dinner, I’m going to find out just how fine you really are.”
My body shivered, the sound of hidden promises in his words making me hyper aware of the sexual tension that always sparked between us. It was undeniable. Neither he nor I could stop it, or fight against it. It was like a force of nature which no one could control. I didn’t want it controlled. Unfortunately, our situation no longer depended on what I wanted, or what Castello wanted. It was no longer just us.
I gave a subtle step back. “I suppose I need to get ready for dinner then.”
“Why did you do that?” His brows slanted inward.
“Do what?”
“You stepped away from me. Why?”
“I didn’t.”
His eyes narrowed. “You did.”
My heart started to race, and the way he looked at me had me nervous.
He stepped closer and without warning his arm shot out and he grabbed my hair pulling my head back. “Don’t ever do that again. Do you understand?”
I swallowed hard, dark angry eyes boring into mine. I knew the right thing—the normal thing—for me to think right then was for him not to hurt me. But by the way he tightened his grip at the back of my head, the pain that seared my scalp, all it did was wake my body, igniting a fire that could only be extinguished with ecstasy. Right at that moment, all I wanted—needed—was for him to wrap his other arm around me and show me how truly twisted we really were.
He gave another jerk, and I yelped as a strong current of need crashed against my core the same time I felt the pain of him pulling my hair.
“I asked, do you understand?”
I lifted my chin, and kept my gaze on his. “Yes.”
His gaze moved from my eyes to my lips, and I could feel how hard and ready he was for me. God, I wanted him. I wanted him so much, my entire body ached. His tongue slipped out of his mouth, and eased over his lips. It made me want to taste him. I wanted to be reminded of the bittersweet taste of him in my mouth.
“Tonight,” he whispered with a promise, and let go of my hair.
I remained still, not daring to move. Firstly because he had already warned me never to step away from him again, and secondly because my body was under his spell, heeding no other command than to be taken by him.
He stepped back, and his eyes made no secret as to what he wanted. His gaze alone told stories of sordid affairs and wicked touches.
“Go get ready while I pick out something for you to wear.”
“You won’t let me pick my clothing?”
The corner of his mouth turned up in a sly grin. “Of course not.”
Of course not. Castello was not a man who would willingly change his possessive ways…and I loved it. Even though I was the one whose choices were taken away, I liked the sense of power it gave me to know a man like Castello Fattore felt possessive over me. The more time I spent in his presence, the more I submitted to him, the more I realized how much I loved rendering such powerful actions from a man as influential and powerful as Castello.
On my way to the bathroom, I stopped by the door, keeping my back toward him. Slowly, seductively I untied my robe and gently eased it off my body until it pooled around my feet. By the way my skin tingled, and my stomach clenched,
I knew he was watching me. I could feel his gaze caressing me, touching me, claiming me. It was something I could easily have grown addicted to—the feeling of being wanted by a man to a point where he needed to control all of you.
Without saying a word I walked into the bathroom, not closing the door behind me. He had warned me the day before to not close the bathroom door. And I was an obedient little mouse, for I had long realized my reward was worth every choice I was being denied.
When I stepped into the shower I realized that for the last ten minutes, while I was under the spell of a man that now ruled every aspect of my life, I didn’t once think about the two pink lines. Two thin little pink lines that I had to keep hidden for as long as possible.
As I walked out of the bathroom Castello stood by the closet holding out a white cocktail dress. I moved toward him. “You seem to have a thing for white dresses.”
“I have a thing for you in white dresses.” He held up his other hand. “And heels, too.”
I snickered. The mischievous grin on his face showed a different side to him, a playful side…a human side.
I dropped the towel I had wrapped around me, and as Castello continued to watch me I slowly pulled the dress on. It was a sleeveless dress with sparkly beads creating a belt around the waist. And unlike the one I wore earlier, this one had a flair from the waist down. I closed the zip on the side when Castello went on his knees. What is he doing?
Softly he wrapped his hands around my ankle, caressing my skin. I couldn’t take my eyes off him crouched before me as he gently slipped the stiletto heeled shoe on my foot. It was something I never thought I’d see—Castello on his knees in front of me. This big, powerful man was on the floor kneeling, placing a shoe on my foot like he was the slave and I the mistress—the queen. The sight took my breath away, and it made my heart feel too big for my chest. The moment felt so surreal.
Fingertips caressed my skin, setting my body on fire inch by inch, his touch burning straight through to my soul.
No words were spoken, yet the silence felt light, calm, as if for those few minutes everything between us was right…normal. There was no role playing, yet it seemed like he had given up the dominance he yielded over me for so long, showing me that a part of him was submitting to me. A part of him needed me—needed to please me. I knew for as long as we were together he would be my dominant, my master, my king—and I wouldn’t want it any other way. But now I realized that I meant more to him than I thought. There was no way a raw, alpha man like Castello Fattore who was driven by his most primal desires would go on his knees for anyone…unless that person meant something to him.
I meant something to him.
His fingertips caressed my skin as his touch moved up my leg, leaving burning flesh in its wake. With ease he placed my foot down before wrapping his fingers around my other ankle. This time I closed my eyes as he placed the shoe on my foot, fingertips travelling up the inside of my leg. Slowly his touch moved up…and up…and up. His hand wasn’t yet between my legs, but it felt like he was already caressing me, touching me, causing my body to weep tears of lust and desire. He was still on his knees, making me feel like his queen in every way, and by God it felt euphoric. Castello was right when he said that some things couldn’t be said with words, because right now he was telling me everything I wanted to know by showing me one simple act of submission.
I felt the subtlest touch of his fingers against my slit and I moaned, my head falling back.
I didn’t even notice he had straightened in front of me, not until I felt his lips placing a tender kiss on my shoulder.
“Perfezione.” Perfection. “Tu sei la bellezza nel mio mondo oscuro.” You are the beauty in my dark world.
I leaned my head to the side. “E tu sei il mio Dio.” And you are the God of mine.
A low, heady growl escaped him, and he cupped me hard between my legs.
“Do not speak such words, little mouse.”
“Why not?”
His finger entered me, and I moaned as my body welcomed it inside me.
“Because a devil like me would use those words to justify the claim I have taken over you. A claim that was taken without your consent.” His finger kept its slow rhythm, only going deeper, pushing harder.
I grabbed ahold of his shoulders, my legs threatening to give way beneath me. “No,” I whispered. “You have not taken anything from me without consent.” I leaned closer, my lips brushing against his ear. “I give it…freely.”
“Cristo, aiutami.” Christ, help me.
He pulled me hard against him, one finger joined by another. My body was being rushed toward the edge by his brutal touch. Breaths escaped me in huffs of greedy desire, the feeling of his cock pressing into my hip causing me to ache with the need to feel it inside me.
“Nessuna donna.” No woman.
It felt like he ripped his fingers from my body, the throbbing ache forcing a desperate moan from my mouth.
He took my face in his hand, gripping tight. The evidence of my desire coated his fingers, the scent of my lust assaulting my sense of smell like a potent aphrodisiac.
“You will seduce me to my own death, woman.” His jaw ticked, his teeth clenched. The elongated pupil in his eye showed the anger and the lust—anger because I almost made him lose control, and lust because he wanted me to make him lose control.
He wiped a wet finger across my lips, and I could taste the sweetness of my depraved desire for a man who once dreamed about my death.
“Tonight, I won’t give you what you need. Tonight, little mouse, I’ll take from you what I need.”
14
TATUM
Castello and I stepped out on the deck, and suddenly all eyes were on us. The only people I recognized among all the guests were Doc and Uncle Gino. Doc and I gave each other knowing looks, and my stomach turned. He has to keep my secret.
I walked beside Castello as he held my hand. It felt good—being at his side, dressed and feeling like a worthy woman. Every glance our way—my way—wasn’t filled with hate or disdain as I was used to getting from the Fattore family. But of respect and acknowledgement. It made me feel confident, as if I might actually be where I belong.
Castello stopped by a table stacked with glasses of champagne. “Here.” He handed me a glass, and I hesitated just for a second before taking the glass from him.
“Thank you.”
With one hand holding the glass, I placed the other over my belly. If I didn’t drink this glass of champagne, Castello would notice. Castello always noticed.
I held the glass to my lips, and turned my back toward him pretending to admire our surroundings. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice that I wasn’t taking an actual sip of the champagne.
“It’s beautiful out here,” I remarked as I stared out over the garden.
Castello stepped up behind me, his chest barely touching my back, but nevertheless it made shiver. “Uncle Gino’s wife, Angelique, has a great talent and love for gardening. You will meet her tonight.”
I glanced over my shoulder. “May I?”
He smiled, and held out his hand gesturing toward the stairs that led to the garden. Castello followed my every step as I walked down the pebbled path, admiring the beauty and the colors. White magnolias, vibrant colored birds of paradise, beautiful orange and yellow dahlias, and I smelled the sweet scent of orchids before I saw them.
For a moment I was lost within the colors. I walked within a world of beauty and perfection, untainted by the greed and the hate of man. Like most artists, I didn’t see shapes and lines, but emotions that shined through ever color, feelings that spoke through every outline and silhouette. It was beautiful…peaceful.
I felt Castello’s hand at the curve of my back. “It is truly magnificent to see you get lost within a world of your own.”
I glanced at him. “Are you not in this world with me right at this moment?”
Castello stared out in front of him. “My world has been black and gray for t
oo long, little mouse.”
“It’s not too late to open your eyes to a different world, Castello.”
He looked down at me, eyes narrowed as he studied my face. “Maybe.”
I smiled and stared at the pebbled path. The pinks and yellows of dusk, the sweet scent of flowers, and the chirping birds as they made their way back to their nests made this moment feel almost…romantic.
“Oh, look.” I stepped off the path and into the soil. I didn’t care that I was probably ruining the five hundred dollar set of heels I was wearing. I stared up at the vine, and placed my fingers beneath the purple and white petals. “It’s a passion flower. Isn’t it beautiful?”
Castello leaned over my shoulder. “It sure is a very unique looking flower.”
“Very. The passion flower belongs to the Passifloraceae family. It consists of ten sepals and petals. It’s the unique shape that makes it my favorite flower.”
He placed his hands gently on my hips. “Why so?”
I glanced up at him over my shoulder. “For me different is good. Unique is beautiful. A common beauty loses its appeal when adored by too many.”
His fingertips travelled down over the curve of my hips, earning a shiver from my body. “A certain beauty can never lose its appeal.” Soft lips touched the skin of my neck, and I closed my eyes.
“May I ask which certain beauty you are referring to?”
The tip of his tongue moved all the way up the side of my neck until he reached my ear. “The beauty of watching you, witnessing you come undone under my touch. There is nothing as beautiful as you when you embrace and unleash your most carnal desires.” Slowly he started to pull up my dress. “Tell me more.”
“About what?”
“The flower. Tell me more about the flower.”
His fingertips brushed my skin as he pulled the skirt of my dress all the way up, the cold spring air wafting across my naked ass.
From where we were standing we could see the crowd on the deck through the passion flower vine. I was looking directly at them, but they couldn’t see us through the thick green leaves—I hoped.
