Page 109 of Virtuous Lies

His warmth hasn’t moved from my back, and his hand comes up, resting on my hip. “She was shot by her own people,” he confesses gently. “I don’t have to cover anything up.”

A wave of relief rolls from the crown of my head to the very tips of my toes. I don’t understand the feeling. I don’t care that Krista is dead, but I don’t know how I’d feel if my husband was the one who rid the earth of her presence.

I shift forward, shunning his touch. “Well, I’m sure you have things to work out about bringing the family into saving Gabriella.”

“Why are you trying to get me to leave?”

I want to scream at him, wishing he could understand my need to breakalone.I want to cry into my pillow and mourn the loss of one of my only friends, and I want to do it without being reassured or soothed. I don’t want someone to tell me it’s all going to be okay because right now, it’s not.

“Why won’t you tell me you love me?” I roll back toward Vincent, my red-rimmed eyes stinging with new tears.

He has always stood by his notion that the darkness within him didn’t allow for the light of love. Hecaresfor me. I just have to hope he cares enough to escape the hell of my question to save me further heartbreak for one day.

“What?”

“I tell you I love you all the time,” I push. “I was certain you loved me too. But the truth is, I don’t know what the intimate side of love feels like. You refuse to tell me, so I no longer know what to believe.”

I suck in a broken breath, shattering the sound further. I want him to leave. I want him to remove himself from the room. I want him to feel as guilty as I do, disappointed that he can’t bring himself to tell me what I need.

“Everyone has told you they have loved you all your life,” he says blandly, his lips tipped down in a frown that I long to reach out and soothe. “Your father. Your mother. They told you they loved you, yet they treated you like a possession. I wasn’t certain the words meant anything to you.”

I flip over onto my back, surprise making my voice clear. “What?”

He shifts closer. “I’ll tell you I love you every minute of every day for the rest of my life if that’s what you want.”

He’ll give me the words, but it's not enough. “I need it to betrue,Vinnie.”

“True?” he tests, louder than I expected. “Bianca, I’m the only person in this world that has loved you the way you deserve. I knowthatto be fucking true.”

I sit up, wiping my face. “I don’t understand.”

“Your mother and father love you because they’re obligated to. They also do it because you can offer them something.”

My heart knows his words to be true, but they cut me all the same.

“Your sister loves you because sheneedsto. You protect her.”

I shrink away from him, my worst fear now confirmed. “You think I’m unlovable?”

He shakes his head. “Ilove you without obligation, without expectation. My love is the truest you’ll ever feel, the deepest you’ll ever know. I thought you knew that.”

My chin wobbles. “I didn’t,” I whisper.

“Sei il mio universo,” he declares.You’re my universe.“Sei la miglior cosa che mi sia capitata.”You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.

Vincent rarely speaks Italian. I’ve heard cuss words mumbled in our home language here or there, but never complete sentences, and never spoken directly to another. But the urgent need in the way he talks right now has forsaken his ability to speak English. He doesn’t have the words.

“I love you, Bianca.” He moves onto the bed completely, cupping my face in his hands. “I love you to the point of obsession.” He kisses my lips. “I saw you, and I knew. I knew that you would be mine, and I would be yours. That this world would be ours.”

“I...”

“I told you I had no capacity for love, afraid you would never find it in you to love me back. I loved you before you knew I was an option. You knew I existed, but you had no idea of the way my heart longed to beat your name.”

I throw myself into his arms, wrapping myself around him, securing every inch of my body to his. “Ti amo.Il mio cuore è tuo.”

I love you. My heart is yours.

Needing more, I pull at Vincent’s clothes. He wastes no time in giving into my silent plea. Kissing me one last time, he slides off the bed, shedding his clothes with little finesse.

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