Page 31 of Temptation
“And I can’t rule out the possibility that you might also be targeted.”
“Why me? I am just a teacher—”This doesn’t make sense.
“You have no idea what lengths our enemies would go to get to us,” he states flatly, his voice tinged with an unspoken weariness.
“How can you stand this?” I wonder aloud, unable to hide my curiosity. “Constantly fighting and fearing for your life? How could you—”
How could you bring children into this perilous world of yours?I bite back the last question, uncertain of how he would react to such a personal inquiry.
“It’s a way of life, not a choice,” he replies, his tone bitter and resolute. “Certain measures to keep my family safe are non-negotiable and beyond discussion.”
“You must hate your life.” The words slip past my lips before I can think better of it.
In the blink of an eye, Fabrizio is up and stands mere inches from me. My back presses against the cold window as he cages me in with both hands positioned beside my head. His face is so close that I can feel the warmth of his breath against my skin, each exhale carrying a hint of his underlying fury.
“You have no idea about my life, my world,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “And you don’t even want to know what I am capable of. So there is no point in you trying to understand it or getting to know me.” His icy blue eyes bore into mine. “It’s no use,Ms. Walsh. I am no one youwantto know.”
“Because you’ve killed people.” The words escape me in a breathless, barely audible statement. He is both right and wrong; I have a certain understanding of what he is capable of, even if I can’t fully grasp the depths of it.
Fabrizio tilts his head, studying my face with an intensity that makes my heart race faster. “I did until the streets ran deep red with blood. I destroyed lives. Families. To an innocent, upstanding citizen like yourself, I am nothing more than a vile criminal,” he seethes, his own words fueling his rage. “Is that what you want to hear?”
He peers down at me, his chest heaving with each ragged breath. I put my hands on his chest, feeling the heat of his bodyand the rapid beat of his heart through the thin fabric of his shirt.
“I—” I begin, but he cuts me off.
“I told you once before—don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”
I stare up at him with wide eyes as I try to comprehend what’s happening. Despite the hateful, angry words he spits out, I can see a broken, sorrowful man consumed by guilt standing before me.
“Why do you try so hard to make me hate you?” The question escapes my lips before I can stop it, and an uneasy feeling settles in my chest. Do I really want to hear his answer? My curiosity battles with dread. “What are you so afraid of? Caring? Living?”
Fabrizio’s eyes darken, and without warning, he grabs the back of my neck, his grip firm yet oddly gentle. His lips crash onto mine in a fervent kiss that leaves me breathless. “Feeling,” he murmurs against my lips so softly that I can’t be sure if he actually said it or if my mind conjured the words. Though the way he kisses me—it’s as though he’s been starving for this moment, for me, and nothing else in the world matters. His kiss is raw, passionate, and all-consuming. I feel like a delicacy, something he’s been deprived of for far too long. The intensity of it overwhelms me, and I melt into him, allowing myself to be swept away by the tide of emotion. When he finally pulls away, we’re both left panting, our breaths mingling in the charged air between us. I watch him as he takes long, purposeful strides towards the door, his hand pausing on the handle as he turns back to face me. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I could see a flicker of longing in his gaze, a vulnerability that he rarely lets slip.
“We’re leaving in an hour,” he announces, his voice reverting to its usual cold and commanding tone. “Don’t bother packing; my men will take care of everything.” I nod silently in response,my heart still racing from the kiss. He opens the door and steps outside, but then he pauses, turning back to me once more. “One more thing… I am sorry. For this morning,” he says softly, almost hesitantly. “It was never my intention to hurt you.”
“Don’t worry; it won’t happen again,” I reply, my voice steady.
I will ensure he never sees me so vulnerable again. I will make sure of it.
As soon as the door swings open, the kids burst into the beach house, their eyes wide with wonder and boundless curiosity. Happy giggles and excited squeals fill the air as they rush to the ceiling-high windows, pressing their noses against the glass to gape at the beach that lies just a few feet away. The pristine sand and rolling waves are a mesmerizing sight for the little ones.
Shortly after midnight, we’d left the house, and the children were groggy as we gently placed them in the car. But the moment their father announced we were heading to a quaint beach house in Miami, leaving behind the hustle and bustle of Atlanta, their drowsiness vanished in an instant. They were wide awake with excitement, their eyes sparkling at the prospect of their first beach adventure. For the next hour, the car was filled with the twins’ non-stop chatter. I figure they’ve never been to a beach or seen the sea before. Their enthusiasm was infectious, filling the car with vibrant energy.
However, once their initial excitement began to subside, both children gradually drifted off to sleep in their car seats, leaving Fabrizio and me in a sudden, almost deafening silence. The restof the drive neither of us muttered a single word and I must have dozed off at some point as well.
“Daddy!” Maddy exclaims, pressing her small hands against the window. “Can we go to the beach?”
Her brother quickly chimes in, “I want to go swimming in the sea!”
Their voices are filled with eager anticipation. “Ms. Walsh, come look,” Maddy urges, her excitement overflowing. “It’s—wow.” Both Maddy and Flynn’s delighted voices echo throughout the small house, filling it with joyful energy.
“Why don’t you two go upstairs and take a look at your rooms?” Fabrizio suggests with a smile. “I’m sure Ms. Walsh would love to take you to the beach as soon as you’ve unpacked.”
“Of course, I’d love to,” I nod in agreement. Our eyes meet for a brief moment, and the tension between us is palpable. Last night, he had shown me a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability, only to snatch it away almost immediately. Deep down, I doubt he will ever allow me to see that side of him again. I watch as his children eagerly drag him up the stairs, their excitement evident as they explore their new rooms in a house they’ve never been in before. The house itself is much less opulent than I had anticipated. It is a mere fraction of the size of Fabrizio’s grand home back in Atlanta. From where we had traveled in a convoy of three cars; in addition to the one we were in, there were two more vehicles containing Oliver, Vance, and six other men, all armed with enough firepower to outfit a small army. As I glance around the main floor, which includes a kitchen, a dining room, the living room, and another room, I can’t help but wonder where Fabrizio’s soldiers will be staying. The house is quaint and cozy, a stark contrast to the grandeur of his usual surroundings.
I linger in the inviting living room, my eyes naturally drawn to the sideboard adorned with countless family photographs.
As I let my gaze drift from one picture to another, certain images captivate my attention more than others. The first that stands out is a wedding photograph. In it, Fabrizio embraces his wife from behind, his hands gently resting on the small yet noticeable bump beneath her flowing white dress.
