((Warning: Smut alert lol))

I ball my fists, shaking from rage, as I glare at him. "You fucking bastard," I hiss.

"Cerise," he whispers.

"Shut up," I growl and stomp past him.

He retrieves my fallen purse, tosses it to one of his men, and effortlessly catches up with me with two long strides.

I flounce out of the nightclub and twist down the corner, marching straight to his car.

"Cerise, c'mon," Elio calls from behind me. Just as I reach the rear door, he catches my wrist, and spins me around.

Fuming, I yank my hand out of his hold. "Don't you fucking dare touch me!" I shout.

"Cerise!" He reaches for my hand again, and I back away, swinging my arm to slap him with all my might.

Before my palm crashes on his cheek, he seizes my wrist.

"Asshole!" I scream, struggling to free my hand from his iron grip. I shove him with my free hand, but he grabs my other wrist too as he forces me to step backward until my back hits the cold, hard wall.

"That's enough," he sternly says, his gaze cold, his face devoid of emotion.

I squirm and try harder to get out of his hold, but he only presses closer to me, caging me between his body and the wall, pinning my hands on either side of my head.

"You fucking bastard! Let go of me!" I shriek.

"I said that's enough, Cerise," he commands, bringing his face closer to me. "Enough."

Panting, I glower at him, my heart thrashing in my chest, my blood boiling. He holds my glare.

Calming down the slightest, our compromising state comes to my notice. He's flushed against me. With each heaving breath of ours, our chests rub together.

"You're a loathsome man," I growl.

"I know."

I curl my fingers into fists. The wall soothes my burning skin, though it's not much effective with Elio's body heat seeping into me. His dark eyes study me.

"You disgusting, dipshit of a murderer, how dare you-"

"I don't regret what I did," he interjects.

Rage sparks up in me again. "You fucking asshole!" I struggle against him again and he presses himself to me, preventing me from moving. "I hate you," I snarl with as much venom as I can.

A sardonic smile arches his lips. "I know." He snorts, shaking his head. "Believe me, I know. Hate me as much as you want, I did what I had to do."

"You're a vile-" I start, but he interrupts me.

"Do you have any idea what that fucker was saying about you? He was talking about taking rounds on you with that bastard. He was suggesting sharing you with them."

Oh. I purse my lips and defiantly hold my chin up. "It still gives you no right to force yourself on me."

He barks a harsh laugh. "Force myself on you? The way you were kissing me didn't give the impression of someone being forced to do something. Tell me, tesorino, are you mad at me for kissing you? Or are you just mad at yourself for enjoying it?"

I clench my jaw and scowl at him. An arrogant smirk twitches the corner of his mouth.

"You're mine, Cerise. As long as you're with me, living under my roof, staying under my protection, you're mine. No man in Cosa Nostra is allowed to even think about you like that."

My breath hitches as my mouth hangs agape.

He leans closer to me. "As long as you're among us, in Cosa Nostra, you can either be mine, or no ones. There's no in-between. I don't care what you do, with whom you'll be after all of this's over. For now, you're here, and I won't let any man dare to speak about you like that. If I can't have you, no other man in Cosa Nostra can. And if you decide to be with me, you'll only be with me."

Holy shit.

He lets my arms drop to my side, but I don't push him away.

"I don't fucking regret kissing you. Now, everyone knows you're mine and no one will dare to harm you, and if anyone's stupid enough to try, no one'll support him." He slams his hand to the wall, next to my head. "Don't expect me to not take extreme measures when someone so much as hints at touching you, let alone sleeping with you. Just don't, you'll end up highly disappointed."

My heart races and my gaze stays locked with his eyes.

Elio nuzzles his nose with mine and my breath catches in my throat. "Hate me as much as you want, tesorino," he rasps.

The rough pad of his thumb grazes my bottom lip. His hand trails down my chin and coils around the nape of my neck, tilting my head back. "But the urge to kiss you was driving me mad for far too long. I don't regret it, and I'd do it again and again if it was up to me... but I won't. Not ever again until you ask me to," he murmurs against my lips.

My skin tingles, my senses ablaze, and heat pools in my core. What the fuck is wrong with me! I should be screaming and fleeing, instead, I just want to crash my lips on his.

Abruptly, he steps away. "I need to visit a few places, the driver will take you back to the hotel. I'll return by morning." He reaches the car and opens the rear door.

His men are standing a few feet away from us, at the edge of the alley. I can't tell if it's their attempt at giving us privacy or if they were just trying to keep us hidden from others.

I stare at Elio in disbelief. Is this asshole serious right now! I hold my arms up at my side, palms facing up. "What!"

"It's not safe, Cerise, get in," he flatly says and doesn't give me the chance to argue as he ushers me into the car and shuts the door.

The driver revs the engine to life and zooms down the street.

The events of the night have my head spinning and once I'm inside the hotel suite, in my bedroom, I sink into the gigantic marble bathtub, letting the lukewarm water wash away the turmoil.

Elio's behavior should alarm me, but aside from feeling offended—and irked—horrifyingly, I don't hate the idea of being with Elio... just Elio.

It's infuriating how I can't control my reactions when it comes to him. I hate him for it, and myself. It's so damn wrong, and he knows it too, yet he recklessly continues to worsen everything.

I hate Emiliano Mariano.

More than that, I hate being attracted to him. The only problem is, the harder I fight against it, the more uncontrollable it becomes.

❈ ☯︎ ❈

Elio doesn't return in the morning, evening, or the following night.

Most of the day I sit on one of the huge plush sofas, facing the entrance door. I distract myself by observing the 19th-century paintings hanging on the walls, reading magazines; but every five seconds, I glance at the door.

When he doesn't show up at midnight, agitation turns to worry. What if he got himself killed?

Even though I try not to fret over his life, it turns into an impossible task.

Twenty-four hours and no news... knowing the shit that usually goes down, I can't cross out the possibility of another fight.

When the clock strikes thirty hours, I swallow my pride and ask his men about his whereabouts.

They only confirm he's alive.

I pace the living room, cursing him. I fail to sleep. Pacing around my bedroom doesn't help either.

I swear when he comes back, I'll strangle him.

The thing about hate is, it consumes you whole. I've been so busy finding reasons and excuses to hate Elio that sometimes, I can't think about anything but him.

I've been fueling the flame of hatred towards Elio for so long, I fear I'm no longer burning with hatred and it's something else entirely.

Something just as strong and dangerous as hatred—NO!

It can't be! I hate Elio! I do!

Sometime in the dead of night, I fall asleep.

❈ ☯︎ ❈

The soft clicking sound of a door closing jolts me awake. I jerk upright. Sunlight floods inside the room, I rub my face.

With a frown, I peek out of my bedroom. The possibility of someone breaking in should be next to nothing. Or at least, it can't be so quiet. Then the sound of running water from the shower comes.

My mood sours, and I glower at the closed door. So he finally decided to come back.

I stomp to my bathroom, shower, and quickly put on the closest and easiest clothes to wear, an emerald green pleated skirt and a black shirt.

The satin fabric of the skirt swishes against my legs as I hurry to his bedroom, and stand next to the door, tucking my damp hair behind my ear as I listen closely. He's speaking Russian.

Patiently, I wait, as my fingers fidget. First, I'll cuss him out for saying all those things two nights ago and then disappearing... I also want to know where he went —just because it might be related to the flash drive.

Tapping my foot, I try to align the most logical approach. Elio's amused voice snaps me out of my thoughts. "You can come in if you want, Cerise."

I roll my eyes and grumble "Asshole," under my breath before pushing my shoulders back and opening the door. "I wanted to talk to you," I start as I enter the room and halt midway.

Holy smoke.

Elio is half-naked, his dark grey trousers hanging low from his waist. His perfectly sculpted upper body is on full display, and for a moment, I can't do anything except ogle the sizzling sight. Small droplets of water glisten against the ridges of his abs, his tattoos are as mesmerizing as the first time I saw them.

My mouth suddenly goes dry and my body grows hot—too hot. I gulp and retreat a step. With my thumb pointing at the living room, I utter, "I-I can come back another time."

"No need. What did you want to say?" A smirk curls his full lips as his darkening gaze roves from my head to toe.

I inhale sharply and ignore my senses' hyper-awareness as I walk further in. "Where were you?" I demand and cross my arms as I stand as far away from him as I can without appearing comical.

"Paris." He lifts a shoulder, his dark eyes glint with mischief as he towels his wet hair.

"I'm serious."

"Why do you care? I thought I'd make it easier for you, save you from the struggle of constantly running away from me." He tosses the towel onto the vanity's chair and picks up his shirt from the bed.

"For a day and a half, you disappear, with no news, no nothing, especially after saying all those things!" I throw my arms up, glaring at him.

He tilts his head, gazing at me, wonder twinkling in his eyes. "Were you worried about me?" he jokes, or at least he tries. The amusement feels forced and the note of curiosity in his features is too obvious.

I snort. "Oh, please. Me worried for a gangster?" I scoff. "I just didn't want you to die before I talked to you," I lie. I was worried, but he doesn't need to know that.

A smile spreads across his face and he slips his arms into the shirt. "Don Elio, capo di capi of Sicily, does not die, tesorino."

I shake my head and purse my lips. "That arrogance will get you killed."

He doesn't bother buttoning up his shirt and thrusts his hands into his pockets. I try extra hard not to stare too long at the tattoos still peeking out of the shirt. "But you didn't come here to give me a lecture on my arrogance. What do you want, Cerise?"

Sucking in a sharp breath, I fix my gaze on his face. "About that night... what did you mean?"

"I was pretty clear."

"No, you weren't. I want to know the truth. What did you really mean?"

Deliberately, he crosses the room. "I think you know what I meant, you just don't want to accept it... you're simply looking for a truth that'll align with your judgments and morals and everything."

"No." I step backward and my back hits the wall. My heart races as Elio comes closer.

His eyes bore into me, tingling my skin, replacing the blood in my veins with fire. "I think you're lying," he says, his voice dropping an octave.

My core clenches with desire. Resisting him is increasingly getting harder. Dammit. "No," I squeak.

He closes the space between us. My breath hitches. "You want to hear the truth, tesorino?" Elio huskily offers, leaning toward me.

His voice becomes deeper, lower, so damn seductive, as he continues, "If you weren't my sworn enemy, if I knew you didn't despise me, and my touch didn't repulse you..." His fingers ghost over my cheek, his chestnut eyes burn with fervent desire, fueling an uncontrollable blaze in me.

My insides turn to mush as I watch him, my heart racing, butterflies fluttering. The need to have him closer, feel his lips on mine, his skin against mine grows.

As though sensing it, his arm snakes around my waist, and for the first time, I don't shy away from planting my palms on his strong shoulders, holding his smoldering gaze.

"I would have ripped your clothes away and done things to you that would've made the devil blush." His lips hover over mine, barely apart as we breathe heavily. My eyes flutter shut, his words making me ache for him.

"You won't ever be mine, I know that, but don't ever think I'll allow another mafioso even dream about lusting after you. That's the truth, tesoro mio."

Long beats of silence stretch past us. My fingers curl around his shirt, the overpowering scent of his woody cologne dazes me.

What's so wrong with wanting him? What's wrong with letting things escalate? Just once.

Even with drugs, you don't get addicted on the first try... right?

And Elio is no drug... right?

Right.

He better not be.

"Your touch doesn't repulse me," I breathlessly whisper and meet his widened eyes. I lick my parched bottom lip. "You'll let me leave once everything is over?" I hesitantly ask.

He nods.

"And you won't ever force me to do something I don't want?"

"Never," he gruffly says, his pupils dilating even more. His gaze darts to my lips before jumping back up.

"You won't do anything until I ask you?"

"I won't." Despite his resolute answer, his arm tenses and presses me to him.

I inhale a deep breath to steady my erratically beating heart before going on my tiptoes and timidly brushing my lips against his.

His breathing becomes more uneven, and his hold tightens.

"Now I'm asking you to not stop," I whisper against his parted mouth.

His palm slips to the nape of my neck and his lips capture mine. He kisses me ravenously. It's staggering and addictive. Like the Earth halts and the sun, moon and all the planets and stars halt for a beat and begin orbiting us. He gravitates me to himself. His lips mold mine in such perfection it's like our lips are made to kiss only one another.

I don't want it to ever stop as I melt into his touch, letting my fingers thread through his damp hair, relishing the feeling of his soft wet curls. My body comes to life. Sparks shoot down my spine, my cells buzz with an unfamiliar high.

His lips move with hunger so passionate it sets off the fireworks inside me. His lips are sin, his touch is fire and fervor, everything and anything that can burn me inside out.

Kissing Elio is all the wrong things that feel so damn right. I can't get enough.

I go up in flames and burn and come back to life.

He deepens the kiss, and our tongues meet in an ardor dance.

His palm feels every inch of my back before gliding up from the side of my waist and halts at my breast. When I cling to him and flush myself against him, his fingers dare to knead and play with my breast over my shirt, and I moan in his mouth. His hardened shaft presses to my lower abdomen, making me throb for him.

Elio breaks the kiss, panting. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No," breathe out, not moving my hands away from his hair and neck.

"Whenever you want me to-" he starts, but I interrupt him by crashing my lips against his and he groans. His hands find the back of my thighs and lift me.

I wrap my legs around him and he carries me to his bed, gently laying me down. Hovering over me, he gazes at me with such intense vehemence it has me squirming with burning desire.

He kisses me gently, biting my bottom lip before he trails down to my jawline, to the slope of my neck, leaving hot open-mouthed kisses. I moan and rake my fingers through his hair. Dragging my palms down, I feel every inch of his muscled back.

"Sei la più dolce rovina che il mondo abbia mai conosciuto," [You are the sweetest undoing the world has ever known] he rasps in my ear and gently grazes the shell of my ear with his teeth.

My mind is too dazed to even get irritated at him for talking in Italian, but I can't deny it's sexy as fuck. He lightly sucks my neck and all thoughts dissipate.

His kisses on my collarbone singe my skin, make my body hum with anticipation. I cup his cheek and lock our lips in a desperate kiss, my hands sliding past his shirt, feeling the toned muscles of his chest and abs.

His hand glides up my calf, to my thigh, and finds my soaked panties. I moan as he traces an idle circle over the fabric. Pleasure shoots through my body, but it's nowhere near enough.

He continues his sweet torture, making me whimper and moan, bucking my hips, desperate for more. I feel his smirk against my mouth.

Bastard.

Gingerly, I let my hands venture downwards. Lightly dragging my nails over the ripples of his abs, he groans and my confidence boosts just enough to dare to go below the waistband of his trousers. My fingers trace the deep V-line, and brush the noticeable bulge.

He grunts and gruffly warns, "Don't play games you can't keep up with."

I innocently smile at him and bite my bottom lip before saying, "Don't start the game if you don't want to play." I pull him closer to me as I lightly palm his hard shaft over his pants. "And who said I can't keep up?"

A deep groan rumbles from him, making my insides clench. 

"Sarai la mia rovina," [You will be my undoing] he grunts next to my ear, as he curls his finger around the band of my panties and pulls it off.

His lips find mine in another smoldering kiss. His expert fingers flick my slick folds, drawing uncontrolled moans from me. It doesn't take him long to make me cry out in pleasure.

The movements of his fingers are deliberate and meticulous, repeating the motions that have me writhing under him. He slips a finger into me and my eyes roll back, my head sinking into the soft mattress. His lips leave searing kisses down the length of my neck as he pumps his finger in and out of me ever so slowly, driving me mad.

"Elio please," I beg, as he draws me closer to the edge but never applies enough pressure to push me over.

"Cazzo, sei così sexy quando implore," [Fuck, you look so hot when you beg] he groans, sucking the spot right below my jawline.

I whimper, my fingernails digging into his shoulder blades. At last, he puts me out of my misery, adding a second finger, and thrusting them in and out of me faster and harder. His long fingers curl and hit a spot that has me seeing the stars within seconds.

My toes curl as my muscles tense up and my core clenches pleasurably painfully.

Utter bliss blasts inside me and I scream Elio as I spiral into a euphoric high, wave after wave of pleasure washes over me. He doesn't stop, prolonging my orgasm, keeping me in a state of ecstasy.

Once I catch my breath and open my eyes, Elio's staring at me with an emotion I can't decipher burning in his beautiful eyes. Not giving me a chance to speak, he crashes his mouth against mine, kissing me deeply.

His hands find the hem of my shirt and slip underneath it, dragging his fingers over my bare skin. Goosebumps raise all over my body and I draw my fingers down the nape of his neck. A guttural moan from him reverberates in my mouth, his body shuddering.

Though before either of us gets any further, a sharp ringing halts us.

He groans and breaks the kiss, muttering a varying stream of curses as he grabs his phone.

I can't stop the laugh bubbling out of me and he throws me a dirty look.

"Looks like Don Elio's men won't let him get laid." I giggle. "Aww, poor capo di capi of Sicily," I coo and laugh.

He looks up from his ringing phone. "Shut up." Though despite his best effort, the corner of his mouth twitches into a smile.

"Make me."

His finger hovers over his phone's screen. He curses again and declines the call, tossing his phone aside, he finds my lips in a hungry kiss.

Not a beat later his phone rings again. He grumbles something under his breath and I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing.

Irritably, he snatches his phone back and receives it. "Pronto," he barks.

I prop myself up on my elbows and tilt my head as I watch him curiously.

His face goes blank and gradually his brows draw together, his expression growing serious.

"Proprio adesso?" [Right now?] he glances at me and I frown, sitting upright. Instant dread fills me up. "Ma io sono con lei, non posso portarla nel mezzo di una sanguinosa rissa!" [But I'm with her, I can't take her into the middle of a bloody fight!]

A bone-deep chill settles in me.

"Cazzo," [Fuck] he says under his breath, rubbing his brows. "Va bene, sarò lì il prima possible." [All right, I'll be there as soon as possible] He hangs up and looks at me. "There's a problem back in Palermo. We have to go right now."

❈ ☯︎ ❈

Thank you for reading this chapter =) Sorry it was long, but hopefully it was worth it, right? xD

Now, we've entered the steamy era of this story, so brace yourselves =)

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Stay safe, lots of love, happy reading ♡