Let Me Love You

“I call bullshit. You’re trying to scare me. Push me away.” Maria’s caramel-brown eyes glossed over with emotion as she shoved at my chest, but I didn’t budge.

I captured her wrists, wet my lips, and prepared to deliver her the ugly words she needed to hear. “If Thomas ever hurt you, you don’t think I’d do the same to him as I did to the man who murdered my sister?”

And no, I hadn’t cut his brakes. I cut his fucking heart out.

Lacing her fingers with mine, I lowered our hands, holding them at our sides. “The problem is, I’d love nothing more than to break every bone in that man’s body just for breathing the same air as you.” I leaned in, my eyes still locked on hers. “But . . .”

“He’s Chiara’s father, you wouldn’t do it. You know if you hurt him, it’ll hurt her in the long run. Also, you’re not a monster, Enzo.”

I was a monster. And I really would end that man if he ever hurt Maria or Chiara. I’d come close to choking the life from him this morning, too.

Maria adamantly shook her head, as if disagreeing with my unspoken thoughts; then she pulled her hands free from my grasp and swiped at the messy strands of hair by her face.

How in the hell was she not walking away from me after what she’d learned? I’d given her a glimmer of the truth, a peek at the darkness inside me, and here she was still rooted in place.

“I wish you would stop trying to keep this wall up between us.” A soft sigh left her beautiful mouth. “Just admit it—you’re scared to feel something for me.”

“I already feel something, Tesoro,” I shared, even if I shouldn’t have.

“Tesoro?”

Tesoro, my nickname for her. And until now, I’d only ever called her that in my head. She wasn’t a material object, but she was precious. Rare. Someone I’d always value, and, well—“Treasure,” I revealed, finishing my thoughts aloud. I set my hands on my hips and bowed my head and, before she could respond, roughly added, “Do you have any idea how close I am to hauling your ass to the bedroom and fucking you so hard you call out to God to come save you from me, il diavolo?” I looked up at her, angry at myself for sharing more, for giving her hope only minutes after she learned I was a killer.

She dragged her fingers across her lips as the color rose in her cheeks. And then my little fireball said in a steady voice, “The devil doesn’t sleep on the floor next to a crib, nor would he stop himself from taking what he wanted, would he?” Her hand planted on my chest, and I lowered my eyes to her touch. “So, like I said, I call bullshit.”

My breathing intensified as the blood rushed south, and all I wanted to do right now was take this woman and make her mine in every possible way.

When I remained quiet, she said in a softer tone, “You could’ve had me six years ago, and you could’ve had me last night. The fact you haven’t yet is on you. Only you. So be mad at yourself, no one else.”

“Believe me, I hate myself enough for the both of us and then some,” I snapped; then we both turned at the sound of Chiara crying, and I was shocked she hadn’t woken sooner when Thomas had been there.

Maria’s shoulders fell, and she pulled her hand from my chest. “I have to get her ready for Thomas’s. After this morning, if I don’t do what he wants, he’ll make my life miserable. I don’t want him trying to change the custody agreement or drag me back to court.”

“I’d never let that happen,” I reminded her, which only earned me a stern look. “Not by killing him,” I reluctantly added in case there was any doubt. “Unless—”

“He hurt me,” she finished for me, and a sad look that crushed me crossed her face. “He won’t, just so we’re clear. Thomas was a cheat and a lousy husband, but that’s it. Because of Chiara, he’s going to be in my life, and you need to learn to accept that if you want to stay in mine, too.” She turned to the side, preparing to go to Chiara. “And, Enzo? This whole you-killing-a-killer thing . . . we’re not done talking about that.”

Once she was gone from sight, I let go of a gruff breath and slipped on my shoes. I snatched my hat and went home, deciding she needed time alone with her daughter. Plus, she needed to process our conversation. Or had that been a fight? Hell, I didn’t know what to call it, but I felt horrible. The idea of possibly losing them both had me feeling empty.

Once in my bedroom, I opened the top drawer of my dresser, searching for the small black velvet box I kept hidden in there. I opened it up and removed the rosary chain I hadn’t touched since giving up my life in New York two years ago. It’d been Bianca’s. She’d been a devout Catholic like our mom. Rarely missing mass unless it was for work.

After tightening my hand around the necklace, my eyes fell to the same beaded rosary tattooed on my forearm. Bianca’s initials were in script beneath the cross, and memories from my past burned through my mind. I nearly took a knee as the pain robbed me of the breath from my lungs.

It took a text from my brother to shake me free from whatever zoned-out state I’d fallen into, and I stored the rosary back where it belonged and read my brother’s message.

Alessandro: How’d last night go?

I dropped onto my bed, my gaze moving to the mirror over the dresser for a moment, catching sight of my tired eyes. How’d Maria function during the day waking up so many times in the middle of the night to put Chiara back to sleep? I was beat from one night of doing it.

Me: Why are you up so early? I thought you rolled into the office after nine.

Alessandro: Dodging my question, I see.

Me: It didn’t go as expected.

Alessandro: Because you did or didn’t kill someone?

Me: I played babysitter while she went on a date. Then she came home and I . . .

I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to divulge, particularly over text. My brother must’ve read my thoughts, because the phone rang a second later, and he placed us on FaceTime. “Are you on a stair climber?” That drew an unexpected laugh from me.

“It’s good cardio.”

“What, having sex with two women last night wasn’t enough cardio for you?” I glared at him, his white tee and hair soaked in sweat. Out of all of us Costa kids, Alessandro’s complexion was the lightest, and he had sandy-brown hair and silvery-gray eyes. Features that kids used to tease him about when growing up were the same ones that women flocked to him for now. Well, among other reasons.

“Nah, you know how it is. Sex doesn’t scratch the itch. Not after the lives we’ve lived.”

“And the stair climber does?” I couldn’t help but smile, but at least he was changing my mood.

“Gets my heart going is about all.” My brother stopped the machine and swiped a towel over his face. He had his own personal gym inside his penthouse in New York, so there was no risk of anyone overhearing our conversation. “But nothing can replace—”

“That’s messed up, you know that, right?” I cut him off. “We shouldn’t miss that life.”

“The way you’re throwing a ‘we’ has me shocked, bro. I thought you didn’t miss anything about New York.” He took a moment to drain his water bottle in a few deep gulps. “Well, aside from us. I mean, you miss us, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course I miss you guys. But my being here and living a normal, so-called healthy life makes Mom and Izzy happy.”

“You’re Mom’s baby boy. Her favorite. She never pushed me to move from the city and start new.”

“Screw you, man,” I teased. “Mom just felt bad for me.”

“We all lost a sister, not just you,” Alessandro shot back, and yeah, of course I knew that, but it was different for me in a way that I couldn’t explain. A twin thing, I supposed.

“Anyway,” he said, realizing we both needed a subject change before our moods went dark. “Tell me about the whole you-playing-the-role-of-Mrs.-Doubtfire thing.”

I stood and went to the window and opened the blinds, allowing the morning sun to wash the room in natural light.

“Because it sounds like you’re the one needing to get laid, brother.”

“Oh, really? And meaningless sex is doing wonders at fixing your life, I see,” I punched back, eyes still on the window.

Alessandro waited for me to look back at the camera before responding, “Pretty sure it wouldn’t be meaningless for you.”

Yeah, he was right about that.

“So tell me. Is her date still alive? Need help taking care of him? I can bail on the meeting with Constantine later and hop down there for an assist if you need one.”

My brother really did miss the hunt, didn’t he? And part of me did, too. I just didn’t want to admit it, and certainly not to him on this call.

“Well?” he prompted when I’d yet to reply.

I thought back to last night when I’d done some digging on Maria’s date, and the man had been boring but safe. “He’s no longer in the picture, but only because she wasn’t interested.”

“Because she wants you. And you want her.”

I turned away from the window, remembering my conversation with Maria before and after Thomas’s untimely arrival. “Even if I tell her everything, I’ll screw up at some point. I don’t know how to be who she needs,” I admitted. “And I don’t want to hurt her.” Plus, who’s to say she’ll even want me now that she knows I’m a killer?

“First of all,” Alessandro began, his brows snapping together, “like, ‘tell her everything’ as in everything?” The best I could do was nod, so he continued. “Second, you’d never hurt her. That’s a nonissue.”

“Not physically. You know damn well what I’m talking about. Just because you act like you don’t have a heart doesn’t mean—”

“Sorry, man. Constantine is beeping in. I should take this.”

“Yeah, sure. You hanging up with me to get your ass chewed out by him? Likely story.” We all had our hard limits when it came to topics of conversation, and Alessandro discussing his own personal demons was never up for discussion.

The man didn’t think he had a heart. My problem? I only had half of one.

Alessandro mumbled something too low to hear, then added, “Just do us all a favor and shit or get off the pot. It’s now or never, man. Either be with her or go find someone new to distract yourself with. At the very least, you need a blow job before you blow up.”

“Great advice, asshole. Fuck you very much.” I waved my hand at the screen, motioning for him to go. “Later.” I ended the call and chucked the phone onto my bed.

Alessandro was right about one thing. I was hanging on the edge of my sanity.

My thoughts drifted back to Maria and the way her body had quickly responded to my touch, with her coming hard on my fingers as they were buried deep inside her pussy.

Fuck. My cock went hard at the memory, and I adjusted myself, realizing I’d never survive the day without relief. I needed to get off before I lost all self-control.

But Maria deserved to know the truth before deciding if she could truly love a man like me. And I needed time to be sure there wasn’t a chance I’d break her heart.