Book 3 in the 'Beautiful' trilogy.
Elena De Luca, the 26-year-old Mafia Princess. The daughter of the notorious Dominic De Luca, the Don of the Italian Mafia of New York. She has always been the light of her family, the life of the party, a free an...
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Elena's POV
I stood in front of the mirror in Angelo's bathroom, having just come out of the shower, with the towel in my hand. I scanned over my body, still envisioning last night's rope marks so clearly. I could almost feel them against my skin as my mind pictured it.
Somehow, staring at my body this morning was a different task entirely. I wasn't belittling myself. I wasn't bullying my body. I was simply content. Sure, I wasn't praising it, but I was at a very different level of headspace in comparison to all the times before last night. Yet, I felt like I could reach that highest point of acceptance whereas before it was never within view, nevermind within reach as it is now. I need to tackle this eating disorder. That is my next step. And I guess the first step to healing is admitting you have a problem.
I gave myself a soft smile in reassurance before taking the towel and wrapping it around my already dry body. Stepping inside the bedroom, I couldn't help myself as my eyes wandered over to the golden tanned Adonis of a man peacefully sleeping in the bed, the flimsy sheets covering his lower half as his bare chest rose and fell in a uniform pace.
I could already feel the fluttering in my stomach, the warming glow in my face, the fuming heat within my body by just looking at him. Thinking about him. I've spent most of the morning laying awake in bed while thinking about everything that has happened up until this point.
I quickly realized the kind of caliber of a man I had within my reach. One that wanted to fix, mend, and heal a heart he never broke. He wanted that responsibility, picking up every last piece and fitting them back together. All because he felt I was worth it. He felt like I deserved it.
Everything about that scared me. The feelings developing so quickly like rapids flowing at a deadly speed. I've been trying to formulate some methodical plan to love this man and then let him go, but somehow he manages to make me forget it all with a simple look, a sweet word or a chemistry filled touch. The chills he gives me, the numbness of such deeply felt emotions. Adrian left me feeling empty and this man has burst into my life, filling me within a couple of weeks. He brought back all my feelings, so profoundly, and I fucking love it even though I'm petrified.
I'm petrified because there is no way we could be. I'm not from here. He wouldn't leave everything for me and I wouldn't expect him to. I would be falling knowing he could maybe catch me but would have to let go too. I know for a fact my father would never allow such a relationship for many reasons. Yet, I stood here perfectly willing to fight my father on something for the first time in my whole life. To the very end. The question remains - would he?
