Chapter 39 (Marco)
Chapter 39 (Marco)
"Thanks for dinner and entertaining, Kylie. She isn't like that. Well, not usually. Ren's death has
affected more than just the ones closest to him."
"No need to thank me. Marcus Bray is a man I respect. Kylie is a lot like her father, never a dull
moment."
I pull my car up to the front of her gate, signaling the soldier in the guardhouse to open up.
The place has a decent size driveway. The manicured garden and rosebushes are just how I remember
it when I first came to this house. Aliyana was eight at the time. It was the first time I saw her, the next Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.
time was a memory I wish to erase.
"She's also stunning."
"Never knew you to swing both ways." I switch the car off and park in front of the stairs.
Her laugh is hypnotic, carefree, and I find myself smiling even as dark clouds blanket this moment with
the memory of my brother's recent death.
"I'm not, but you already know that." Will this be like this forever, if she was mine? Would she remain
lost, and stare at me as she is right now, with her hand on her mouth and that glimmer in her emerald
eyes? Are her curls going to touch her ample breast like it belongs there? Would I get lost in her?
"Are you okay?" She asks me with genuine worry. I must be frowning.
"I'm fine, just got lost in thought for a moment. You should get inside, tomorrow is going to be a long
day."
And like that, the spark leaves her beauty alone for now. So easy it is to add ruin to perfection.
She has answered my question without even knowing I was asking.
“Goodbye, Marco.” She jumps out of the car, leaving me to watch her walk away from me.
How is it that my brother's body lies in a morgue waiting to be buried, yet, I sit here, watching the very
girl he wanted me to stay away from, and all I can think of is kissing her. All I can imagine is her legs
spread on my carpet floor, her eyes heavy with desire, as her body waits to be owned by me - The
Villain.
“Aliyana, wait.” I leave my car door open, heading toward her. She doesn't turn around, so I grab her by
the waist and spin her around. Look at me, Mezzosangue.
She gasps, and there it is, those green optics, mesmerizing yet utterly darkening, gawking at me.
"Kiss me, Mezzosangue." She lifts up her head, tilts her chin, and closes those beautiful eyes.
Surrendering.
I bend my body, grab her closer into me, wanting her to experience the man who's holding her, as I dip
my head to meet those lips. The forbidden always tastes better.
Her tongue touches my own as she did on the night of the rooftop. Only this time, I take it and demand
more as my hand wanders to her round ass and my other to her neck. I consume her exotic flavor of
forbidden essence.
A deep-heated, intense kiss from a girl as innocent, yet deadly as this one, tastes like the finest
whiskey. Smooth until it gets to the inside, then it burns, and that burn eventually becomes your
addiction. An addiction I shouldn't want.
I pull away, holding her shoulders, her lips swollen from my kiss, her cheeks flushed from the feel of my
dick against her stomach. My breeding deeper than I show her. Hers erratic.
Sometimes in life, we are given tests. While most of them are obvious, there are those rarities that are
not.
Today, I stare into the eyes of the girl who could one day become my wife. The night is silent, the air-
stagnant, and all those nightly sounds not existing. It is almost surreal, us standing here, right outside
her door, where the soldiers could see our sin. This, us, now, a hellish test I have failed knowingly.
My senses come to me in a wave. I watch her face change from wanting to cautious.
My phone rings and I leave her standing on the step to get to my car. I grab the device from my
console.
"What's wrong?" I ask my soldier, dread filling my body.
"Tuo cugino, Massimo e stato trovato dal molo signore. He's bad." Your cousin Massimo was found by
the docks, sir.
"Take him to the hospital, I'm on my way." I clip the call and turn to Aliyana, still standing exactly where
I left her.
"The last time I kissed you, my brother was killed. Today my cousin gets attacked outside my fucking
dock." I squeeze my phone in my hand, my need to smash something takes over. How I refrain is
unknown to me.
"Maybe you shouldn't kiss me then," She says, stepping toward me.
"There is no maybe about it. Get inside, Aliyana."
"Aliyana. Marco?" Her sister's voice comes from the top of the window. The same window Aliyana and
her sister stood by just a few days ago, carefree, watching us while giggling so loud, Filippo wanted to
tell them to shut up. Now, look at her, standing across from me yet again, tainted. But, there has never
been anything carefree about Aliyana Capello. I know this, but why do I feel guilty, like I made her that
way? When the very man she calls her father did that to her.
Should I have stopped him? Is that why every time I get too close to her, someone I care for dies or
gets hurt? Is she my family's downfall? My ultimate destruction?
"Guilia, I'm coming now, wait for me," Aliyana tells her sister.
"You should go, Marco, thank you for tonight." I give her a stiff nod and watch her walk away from me.
Sometimes the pill of truth is hard to swallow but necessary. I leave Aliyana's house, but my mind
remains there throughout the night. It remembers our kiss, her stories in the restaurant, her careless
quirks, even as I look at my cousin in the hospital bed.
Her loud feminine voice follows me as I am forced to relive the nightmare my cousin had endured from
the video footage.
Seven men attacked him, beat the fucking shit out of him. Is it related to my brother's murder? I think
not. This is the work of someone who wants revenge. The question