Page 15 of Violent Delights

The name rings in my ears like alarm bells.

Montesano.

Oh God.

I cringe inwardly when I realize my father will have my neck and his for what we just did. It may have just been a kiss, but they’re our enemies. I’ve never seen Domenico Montesano before. My father kept me far from the family he would love to see decimated.

“You’re Domenico Montesano?”

He glances my way before smiling. “Indeed I am.”

“Oh God,” I mumble, running my hands down my thighs in an attempt to calm myself. To stop the shaking from taking over my whole body.

“Why?” He doesn’t know. He still doesn’t realize who I am.

“Lelia.” Cassio’s voice comes from somewhere in the maze, and I realize he’s going to get here and see me with Domenico.

“You have to go,” I hiss quickly, panic taking over as I push Domenico toward the side of the maze where there’s a secret exit. His two friends follow, their laughs echoing in the darkness. All I can do is pray Cassio doesn’t hear them.

“Lelia Vitale, where are you?” Cassio seals my fate and I wait for Domenico to do something. To hurt me. To wrap his hand around my neck and squeeze the life out of me. I wonder if he has a weapon on him. Perhaps he’ll kill me quickly.

“Go out there,” I tell him quickly before he hurts me. But what he does next is something I don’t understand.

He swipes his thumb along my lower lip. “An angel with the mouth of a sinner,” Domenico murmurs as the corner of his mouth lifts slightly. It’s a small, infinitesimal movement, which makes my spine tingle. He releases me and turns to his friends, who are watching our display with rapt attention.

“Let’s go,” one of them shouts. They disappear into the darkness, and I flop back onto the bench, my knees weak as I ponder the kiss he’s just given me. What I told him is true. I’m not at all an expert with boys, men. He was my first kiss. And I’m almost certain he will be my last.

It can’t be love because I don’t know him. He’s nothing but a stranger to me, but deep down, I have a feeling he’s about to become so much more.

“There you are,” Cassio says as he reaches the middle of the maze. “I’ve been calling you,” he tells me. “Did you see some guys running this way?”

“No.” The word is out of my mouth with confidence. I never lied to anyone before. But right now, the need to hide the fact that Domenico was here is the only thing I’m focused on.

“Fuck,” he curses, turning to two of his soldiers. They’re angry. I can tell from the way their fists clench and their jaws tick.

I should be loyal to the Vitale name, but I can’t bring myself to confess what just happened. That I saw Domenico, that I kissed him when I should have known better. Cassio leaves me to my thoughts, and I watch as he and his two soldiers make their way out of the maze.

Laughing and chatter from the party break the silence. But my thoughts are still on Domenico. His kiss still lingers on my lips. The taste of him consumes me, even though he’s long gone.

I push to my feet, but before I can leave the area, I hear a whisper from behind me. I turn, glancing over my shoulder before I fully face my enemy. He’s far too handsome, but that’s what they say about the devil—his beauty is a lure.

Domenico crooks his finger, calling me to him, and like a butterfly caught in his net, I move toward him. When I stop inches from him, I take him in.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I shouldn’t,” he agrees. “But you’re here, so that means I want to be. Even if I’m killed.”

“That’s stupid,” I tell him as I shuffle on my feet. “Go. Now.”

“Promise me you’ll meet me tomorrow,” he says suddenly. “At the Bow Point Cemetery near the Vitale mausoleum.”

My mouth pops open in surprise that he knows this. But then again, he seems to know more about my family than I do about his. I’ve only ever heard of the hatred between our clans. I don’t know the reason because my father believes girls shouldn’t be a part of the life.

I agree with him on that count.

“Why?”

“Because I need to see you again,” he tells me. “Don’t you think that a hundred-year-old feud is stupid?” It’s a challenge. He’s gauging my response to our history. Well, not ours, but our family’s past.

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