Page 30 of Dark Masquerade
“Yes. And it didn’t start to heal until I met you, Aldo, and that is the truth.”
Aldo leaned over and pressed his lips against hers, apparently not caring that she’d been kissing Indio only minutes back. But Elli cared. Indio’s lips were so different. Aldo’s lips held a kind of despair of their own, though, she realized as he kissed her hard again and then pulled back. “Elli …we’ve both made mistakes. Maybe your brother discovered Indio’s true nature. I don’t know. But, god, Elli, please, don’t go near him again. For your own safety. I couldn’t bear it if he hurt you. I still see the blood on Yvetta’s dress …there were so many stab wounds, the medical examiner had to check and recheck he’d counted right. Heguttedher. Indio Navarro gutted Yvetta because she wouldn’t leave me. If he were to do the same to you …” Aldo dropped his head in his hands and gave a sob, and Elli wrapped her arms around him.
“He won’t, Aldo. I swear. It’s over now. I have closure.”
Elli wondered just how many times she would have to tell herself that before she believed it.
A bottle of scotch and two packs of cigarettes, both now empty, lay on the ground next to Indio. He sat back against the stone wall surrounding his property, staring into the inky black night. He was aware that it was still winter and that the temperature had dropped to just above freezing, but he didn’t care. He felt as if he had been hit by a sledgehammer, worse than when he’d seen Elli weeks back, dressed in lilac at the party.
Turning around and suddenly seeing his ElliBella, his best friend’s little sister, looking more beautiful than he had ever dreamed, he’d been torn between storming over to her and running away. She was staring at him in that same way she had the last time they had seen each other, when she had told him she loved him and he had wanted so desperately to tell her that she was theloveof his life, the one person he would never hurt and yet …he had done just that. That day he had broken not just his heart, but hers too, and he would never forgive himself.
Two steps,a voice told him. She’s two steps away. Go to her, kiss her, tell her you’re sorry, and never, ever let her go. Ever.
He had taken one step and then seen a man take Elli’s arm. The spell was broken. Indio had felt another sledgehammer, this time one filled with hatred and loathing.
Aldo Constanza.
Youbastard.No, you don’t get to love her. You don’t get to touch my Elli.
But by the way Aldo was behaving, there had obviously been something more than friendship between them. He’d watched Aldo bend down and kiss her perfect mouth, then Elli’s shocked look of dismay as she looked back at Indio to see if he had seen it.
He had. And he had fled.
Indio rocked his head back against the stone wall, welcoming the light thud of pain.
Elli. His ElliBellahad come here, and finally, after all these years, he had felt joy. Her beautiful smile, the feel of her lips against his, and the way her body curved into his as he made love to her.No.
That wasn’t making love—it was the desperate fucking of a man who couldn’t be with the woman he loved. That wasn’t the tender lovemaking he’d dreamed about for years, that was the only comfort in his solitary world. He’d imagined the first time he and Elli would have sex to be a relaxed, fun time together, laughing just like they had in the old days. He had lived for the moments when the shy, young girl would come to see him. Enzo would roll his eyes and make himself scarce, and Elli would snuggle under the blanket with Indio to watch old movies. They had never even kissed until that terrible day when he’d gone away.
He knew she was in love with him, of course, because he felt the same way. He was done. He had the girl of his dreams and he was done. Elli was his entire world; there wasn’t one cell in his body that doubted they would be together forever.
Then Enzo’s girlfriend, Imelda, for whatever reason, had accused Indio of assaulting her. Indio denied it vehemently, but the damage to his and Enzo’s friendship was fatal, even if Indio could see that Enzo didn’t believe his girlfriend. He and Imelda had broken up anyway and Indio had been banished. There was no way Enzo would let him near Elli, regardless of his innocence. Indio had begged him not to send him away, but Enzo wouldn’t bend.
And so, Indio exiled himself. For years he worked everywhere else but Italy. He settled in Seattle for a time, making friends, but then he met Yvetta and his world fell apart.
Indio pulled himself to his feet and shuffled into the house, falling fully clothed onto his bed. If he died right there, he couldn’t have cared less …except Elli was in trouble. Real, bad, desperate trouble, and he didn’t know if she knew it.
The terrifying thing, Indio thought as he gave into drunken unconsciousness, was that he didn’t know if he could save her—or if he would end up causing her a long, painful death.
Two months.Elli counted the days since she had seen Indio—touched him, kissed him, fucked him—and knew she shouldn’t torture herself. Things with Aldo had been steady, but now he wanted more from her. It had started with him insisting she join him for a business trip to America. Elli had arranged the time off from work, apologetically, as she knew they were busy.
Vivienne had taken her aside. “I’m worried about you, Els. You’re too pale and you’ve lost a ton of weight.”
“I’m good, honest.” Elli hadn’t told Viv about seeing—and sleeping with—Indio. She couldn’t bear to say his name aloud, not even to her close friend.
“Darling, Aldo isn’t being too controlling, is he? I’ve noticed. Lately, he’s around more, telling you what to do …”
Elli shook her head. “It’s fine. He’s worried about my psycho stalker, is all.”
“Well, I can understand that. Any news on that?”
Elli half-smiled. “Well, whoever he is, he’s certainly imaginative in the ways he’s thought of to kill me.”
Vivienne shuddered. “Don’t joke.”
“There, see? That’s how Aldo feels, so I’m handing over a little bit of control to make him feel better. He knows better than to push it.”
But Elli wondered if he did know the boundaries she had set. As they packed, he told her to bring certain dresses or clothes—mostly red or white—and in the end, she got annoyed. “Who made you Anna Wintour?” she half-joked, half-snapped at him.
