Page 4 of His Vicious Desire

It might not be entirely fair to say Sandro and Luca appreciate it when they don’t realize the depth of my ambivalence over living.I’m not suicidal—yet.I just don’t give a shit if I weren’t to wake up one morning.

My apathy toward life started three months after my twentieth birthday.On the one-year anniversary of marriage to a girl who made living every day a fucking nightmare.I had no idea when I married her just how much of a girl she was.Mary was seventeen to my nineteen.The whole idea of marriage to her didn’t appeal when it was brought to me.

Her adamant promise that I would love her the way she loved me had me second-guessing myself.My mother committed suicide the year I turned eleven.A healthy marriage or relationship wasn’t anywhere for me to see—television didn’t count because everyone knew television was fake.At least that’s what my mother told me when I asked her why she and my father were so different from the people married on television.

Like a dumbass, I assumed Mary’s want was love.It wasn’t.It was psychosis.She had never been told no, and me saying it made her determined to get me to change my mind.There was also the hidden fact that Mary was dying.Childhood leukemiawas supposedly the reason why she was never told no.

I was told not to worry.It would go away again.It was her mother who broke the news, so I didn’t say I hoped the hell not.By the time I found out about it, only six months in, I was fucking relieved—there would be an end to the hell.I hoped maybe a year, two tops.It took four and a half fucking years, but finally, I was released.

I barely noticed when my dislike of waking up every day happened.Considering who I was waking up to, it felt normal.Then it became apathy, a feeling deep in my gut that became a part of me.When she died, I assumed it would go away.It never did.

It became almost a comfort to have—the apathy was a part of me.I wouldn’t recognize myself without it.All these years with it, I’ve given up on losing it.Trust my bad fucking luck for it to disappear at the press of a soft body to mine.

A fucking lightning bolt hit me without warning.I had no idea where it came from.One moment, I was making my way to Sandro, and the next, a body made for sin and regret was plastered against me, pulling me out from the dark shadows of hell into the harsh, unblinking light of heaven with an angel pressed up against me.

I’m not proud of how it freaked me the fuck out.When she looked up at me with wide brown eyes, her lush mouth parted in surprise, I was stunned.All I wanted to do was throw her down on the ground and get lost in her soft, sweet body.

I wanted it so badly that I didn’t trust myself not to throw her over my shoulder to carry her away and let her go—only for her to almost go down in front of me.The idea of her falling and hurting herself had me catching her again.I didn’t want to let her go this time.

All I wanted to do was scoop her up in my arms and hide her away from the world while I discovered what it was about her that made every cell in my body burn for her.Maybe she felt it, too, because when I let her go, she stepped back as if afraid of me.

Then I had to focus because Sandro was there.And he was introducing me to his sister—the angel I had just let go of.I bit my fucking tongue to keep the bitter laugh in.Of course, it would be another girl.A girl only eighteen a few days ago, a girl who couldn’t be more untouchable in this world than the sun.

The little sister of my best friend was bad enough.Add in that my best friend had sworn to his mother on her deathbed that said little sister would never know my world, the world of themafia.It all totaled up to me paying for every sin I’ve ever committed in this lifetime and the ones before it.

I’m not even sure what the hell I said—my brain shorted out in overload.The brat taunted me, reminding me of our age differenceandof all the ways it was wrong to want her.Sandro thought it was amusing.He had no fucking idea.

I’ve spent all night watching her, greedy for more of her.I’d been across the room in seconds when it looked like she was going to throw up when the spotlight found her.Far from the princess I thought she was from listening to Sandro talk about her all these years—she’s anything but.She forced herself to smile more than anyone I’ve ever come across.I can tell the difference between her real smiles and her forced ones.I’m not sure how Sandro doesn’t see it.But he doesn’t.Not even a little.

He thought she was having the time of her life when she was miserable.Maybe for a little while when the singer was up on stage, she lost herself in the music for a few songs.There are so many frowns and pain lines on her face.She doesn’t look eighteen—I would have clocked her at ten years older from how deep the lines are.Lines she’s careful not to let Sandro see.

Everything he’s said of Bianca over the years is sought from the recesses of memory.They really only came after her mother died.How stressed Sandro was when his dad wanted to ship her off to boarding school only a week after his mom died.Sandro refused to send her away.He asked Luca’s old nanny to take care of her.He was relieved when Marissa was willing to come out of retirement to watch her.

Then his dad moved into the hotel and casino he ran on Fremont Street in old Vegas without ever mentioning moving the girl in with him.So Sandro had to move back into the house he grew up in because he didn’t want to force a seven-year-old girl out of her home into a bachelor pad in a condo on the strip.

His whole life changed.He had to be there for choirand piano recitals.There were more things that he tried and couldn’t attend, and there were times when he went but had to leave to handle business.

Then suddenly, one day, there were no more things for him to go to.It happened right after Marissa told him that now that Bianca was thirteen and could cook her own meals.She didn’t see the need to be a nanny anymore and quit.Sandro hired Bobby to be Bianca’s driver since there was no telling what Sandro might be doing when she needed him.

Sandro said she was tired of all the extracurriculars, and she wanted to focus on getting good grades.I knew then—all those years ago—she didn’t tire of the things she signed up for.She got tired of him not being there.I had no idea where the knowledge came from when I didn’t know her.Maybe it came from my own childhood and having to be there for my little brothers when my dad wasn’t there for any of us, despite him not dying until a decade ago.

I was reminded of that tonight when Sandro apologized after she took off into the bathroom.He didn’t understand why she was so pissed off he was leaving when she had all her friends here and a party on top of it.Except it’s clear that only the girl she spent the evening seated with is her friend.Not once has she looked to any other girl here with asmile of welcome.

Why she lied to me about drinking, I’m not sure.I hadn’t smelled liquor on her breath, and her pupils weren’t changed in the slightest.But fucking hell, there are two drunk girls headed to her table now.

“Bee!”Kitty—what an idiotic name.Nearly screams at her as she almost falls into the chair beside Bianca.Another girl is behind her.Megan, I’d been given pictures of her friends to allow them up into the suite later tonight.

“Thank you sooo much for the bag.I love your brother.He’s awesome.And so gorgeous.I wish he’d stayed.I could have thanked him the way he deserves.”Kitty sighs as she strokes her bag.

“What the hell are you doing drinking?”Bianca hisses at her.

Megan giggles as she flashes a flask.“Don’t be such a baby.Come on, this a fucking club.Have some.”

I grab the flask from her hand.

“Hey,” Megan grabs for the flask.“That’s my dad’s.Give it back, you dickhead.”

Bianca pushes up from the table.“Come on, Megan.It’s time for you to go home.I’ll have someone drive you.”

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