Page 60 of Dario DeLuca

The evening arrives, and the reception begins under the stars with the usual festivities, but I find myself instinctively looking for the person who has captured my attention so deeply. The words fascination or obsession don't fully describe the strong pull I feel inside.

“Mia,” Carmela says as she walks my way.

I stand to greet her, and she hugs me, giving me a peck on each cheek.

“It was a beautiful ceremony, Carmela. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, love. I can’t wait until you and my brother wed. Mama is looking forward to the journey to the States.”

“Oh. Really? Well, we haven’t even started preparing yet. It’s all so fresh, still.”

“Cara mia.”My darling.She places a soft hand on mine. “I know how it came to be, but it is up to you to make it what it will be. Trust me, you are the breath of fresh air my brother needs.”

She leaves, joins her husband for candid photos, and mingles with the other guests.

I sit and sip from the glass of champagne offered by the server, who is circulating with drinks. Usually, I’m the one mingling and checking in on others, but it is refreshing to be one of the guests for a change.

My sight falls on Dario, who is talking with a few people I can only assume are friends of his or his family. I want to look away, but I can’t. I’m trapped. The sense of delicious danger permeating the air is palpable, electrifying with its sinister promise.

And I find myself unable to resist being pulled into Dario DeLuca's world—a place where he sets the rules with his strong will, and I am likely to let go of my former self completely.

TWENTY-FIVE

DARIO

The air is sterile—thecold stench of sanitized leather filling my senses. Out of the window, the world moves in a blur as we speed along the runway for take-off. It’s been years since I’ve been home to Sicily, and being back was more than nostalgic.

It was good to spend the last four days hugging my sweet mother and giving my baby sister away. She was such a beautiful bride, and seeing her in that dress did something to me—the imagery seeping down, planting seeds I damn sure wasn’t prepared for.

We ascend, the plane tilting as my sights land on Mia, who fidgets restlessly across from me. She taps her fingers along the armrest, eyes fixed on the window as the landscape starts to pixelate. A restless energy thrums through her that I recognize all too well—the need to run, to flee this inescapable situation.

Still, her fight hasn’t returned, no more sassy comments or rejecting me at every turn. I’d be a fool to think that our short time at my family’s estate softened her to me. No, this somber, depressive mood she’s been in has nothing to do with me.

And I hate it.

I want to be the only thing she thinks about, the reason she breathes, and if fear is going to be involved, I want that, too.

But more importantly, that seed my sister planted has blossomed, and all I can see when I look at Mia is that she is mine in every sense of the word, and when I get my hands on the fucker who’s the cause of all of this, I’m going to skin him alive, inch by fucking inch.

She shifts again, turning her knees towards the cabin wall almost as if trying to hide and make herself small. My stare roves hungrily over the curves accentuated by her skintight workout leggings, lingering on the luscious swell of her thick thighs. Carnal desire surges through me like a shot of whiskey scorching my veins.

She’s literal perfection.

My train of thought is interrupted when Rafael leans over with a brief, inconspicuous glance at Mia, his gruff voice just above a whisper. "This is everything we talked about this morning.”

He slides a manila folder into my hands, the weight of its contents heavy. Prior to us leaving for Sicily, he’d found out more about the family that bore that crest and what had happened all those years ago.

I asked him to put it all together for me for this inevitable moment. I flip it open, combing through the information compiled on the shadowy figure hellbent on taking us down. My gaze snaps up to Mia, watching the sunlight dance across her smooth brown skin.

Mia's head whips around, lips parting as our eyes meet and lock. The air thickens with the potent energy crackling between us, her eyes blazing into mine.

Now's the time to come clean about everything. I've kept her in the dark too long, treating her like a delicate flower in need of protection. But she's more fierce bramble than fragile petals,all scorching thorns, and fights. This danger is hers, down to the bone, ever since someone started stalking her, ever since they took a shot at her father in a room full of people.

For her safety, the gloves have to come off. No more secrets—if she's to be my wife, she needs the whole, ugly truth. We take on the consequences as one, indivisible. I hold her look, steely and unflinching.

"Come here," I command and tap the plush leather seat beside me.

Mia stares at me for a suspended heartbeat before rising in one fluid motion. She crosses the short distance between us, each step igniting pinprick flames along my skin in anticipation of her overwhelming closeness. When she settles beside me, her signature floral scent envelops me—and it’s heady and addictive. I inhale deeply, committing the aroma to memory.

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