SHE IS THE MAFIA (BOOK#2)

Chapter 8

I can hear myself struggling to breathe yet again in this large space.
With him.

"You can't even look at me," Elias laughs, sitting across from me, "I don't understand why. It's not like I did you wrong,"

He is right.
He didn't do me wrong at all.

I fidget with my hands, as the temperature rises in the room.
Allow me to explain myself and the stupid stupid decision I made.

It was a little over a year ago. I was visiting Sicily, as I normally would. I was on my break from university, so I met Carlos and spent my vacation cruising around. I spent my time there alone since he was with his brother, Emilio working out some family matters. It was on my last night that things unraveled to a different path. I was staying in a five-star hotel suite, already packed for my morning flight, relaxing in my dimly lit room with some wine. I remember it all clear as day. It was peaceful.

Until... there was a knock at my door. I thought it was my dinner, but no. It was not. It was Elias. Every time I visit Sicily, I was never in contact with anyone but Carlos. The whole "stay away from my family" thing stayed as a rule and I never challenged it. So seeing Elias at the doorway of the hotel room I was staying at was shocking above all things. It had been years since I saw him, but he looked just the same.

Elias was just as shocked to have seen me, but in hurt and bothered way. He asked why I was there. why I was in Sicily so suddenly. He asked all types of questions about why Carlos was seen with me. why was I with Carlos to begin with?

The questions were accusing.
They were implying something utterly inappropriate.
Elias didn't see Carlos and me as father and daughter duo.
He was suspicious as to why Carlos had easily divorced Marigold after swearing to keep her locked in a tortuous marriage. He thought it was because of me. He thought Carlos divorced his wife because of me.

I was offended.
And the interrogation turned into banter. we screamed at each other. I was proving myself innocent of his nonsense while he was proving me guilty. We went back and forth for a while.

Then I made a stupid mistake. a childish and impulsive mistake.
I kissed him. I kissed him because he was all up on my face with a crazy look in his eyes, reminding me why he is reacting the way he is. I kissed him because he was right there, too close and too far away at the same time. I kissed him because something about the way he was begging for it all to be his imagination caused a wave of emotion to erupt from me.
No. That's a lie. I kissed him because of something about the way we existed in that room, something about the gleam of fury in his eyes, it was him... his existence drew me.
So I pulled him and connected our lips.
One kiss turned to thousands, but who was counting.

I shouldn't have done that.
We shouldn't have done that.
But I wanted to.

And he asked multiple times if it was really okay if it was what I wanted.
It was.

So what started with one kiss turned into one night.
One night.
I remember the silhouette of his body in the darkness and his breath on my neck and my lips on his. I remember the purple bruises on my neck. I remember it all. It was dangerous. I bent and broke my rules, I thought. It was meaningless, I thought.

"TEMPEST," Elias yells, snapping me out of the memory, "Can you at least try to pay attention?"

"What? What did you say?" I can feel the sweat on the back of my neck, "I am sorry,"

His eyes soften for a second before flashing back to their piercingness, "I... I was saying... I came here on behalf of the Romano Family. You know my father can't really leave Sicily at the moment since things have been slowing down after your grandfather's death. He sent me to make sure you are adjusting appropriately,"

I nod slowly, "thank you,"

"Yeah, you're welcome," he has a lot of attitude for someone who wants to be helpful.

We sit in silence. I look down at my lap, though I can feel his gaze on me.
Why isn't he saying something? Anything to keep me on the ground.

"Your hair... it looks nice. I like the contrast," his voice has calmed down, and my heart flutters. I sit deeper into my seat.

"Thank you," I say quietly.

He gets up and squats in front of me, asking "Can you look at me? Was it so wrong that you can't even look at me now?"

I slowly raise my eyes to meet his.
I chose to forget, but I never did forgive myself for the aftermath of that night. I woke up, figuratively and literally, and freaked out. I told Elias that it was a mistake. it was the wine. that we should never speak of it again. it meant nothing, I swore, and it will never mean anything. And he told me to stop and to think and to actually feel. I told him I had a flight to catch.

I left him.

I left him with no explanation.
Why?
I was afraid.

And now, looking into his eyes again after treating him like a one-night stand, I feel awful.

"Elias," I say his name so easily, but it feels weighted, "Let's not talk about it,"

"But why?" I wish he was yelling at me instead of staring at me with doe-eyes.

"Please, Elias," there is a sinking feeling in my chest, and I want to submerge in it.

He stares at me for a couple more seconds, then gets up.
He says, "You owe me for the breakfast I paid for this morning," and leaves.

It was him.
Of course.

I put my head in my hands trying to erase this from my head.
There so many more things to worry about, so many responsibilities I should be taking care of, but this... this...

It's bringing it all back.
I knew from the first time I met Elias that he was different, not in the cliche way, but in a way that made me feel safe. I never had to be self-conscious because somehow he already knew me. It was the best thing about him; he always made me feel comfortable. At the time, I wasn't over Malachi, I was smart enough not to lead him on.

But this time around, I wasn't kind. I wasn't thoughtful or considerate. I took it too far.
I tried to convince myself that it was a mistake, to just forget about it.

But is it so wrong if I wanted him so badly?
If I still do?

Yes, it is.
Because history loves to repeat itself.

Elias Romano is the next heir to the Romano Mafia.
I am about to be the mafia boss in two days.

where do our lives intersect in any logical sense?

I laugh out loud at my dilemma.

The truth.

The clear and mature truth I would like to confess...

I am afraid to get close to Elias. afraid to discuss the content of our night. afraid to get too close to him again. afraid to let him touch my skin again.

Malachi once told me I was like a drug to him, and he couldn't get enough.
I didn't understand what he meant back then. I didn't understand how someone can be so addicted to a person's touch or existence.

Until now.
******