Diavolo (Devil’s Playground #1)

15. Chapter 15

15

As Elyse stirred the next morning, she awoke with a bright-eyed energy that had eluded her for weeks. She glanced at the man beside her. Alessandro's eyes were shut. Long, dark lashes fanned across sharp cheekbones. His chest rose and fell in a pattern of slow, serene breaths. Alessandro appeared to be asleep still, blissfully untroubled by the violence that always surrounded him when his eyes were open.

Elyse gazed upon him in this quiet, intimate moment, brushing her fingers across the stubble along his jawline, before trying to slip away. Right as one foot hit the floor, however, he caught her. With his arm around her waist, Alessandro drew Elyse back to bed, snuggling her to his chest with a contented sigh. His voice rumbled in gravelly, sleep-laden tones, "Where do you think you are going, Signora Vitale?"

Elyse shuffled around to face him. "Sorry for waking you.”

" No , the fault is mine. I am a light sleeper. But if you feel remorseful and wish to atone for your actions?” His brown and blue-gray eyes blinked open. With a fog of slumber lingering over his handsome features, he yawned and nestled closer to her. Alessandro's hand reached over to palm her breast, lightly flicking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, as he commanded softly, " Stay ."

Elyse sighed and gravitated toward his touch. "You don't want to go back to sleep?"

His other hand quickly found her clit. "Not anymore."

He used his middle and ring fingers to draw light, coaxing circles until wetness glistened from her slit. Elyse ghosted her hand down his chiseled torso to wrap her palm around his thickening cock. He grunted gratefully as her fingers closed around the solid length. Elyse caressed him with unhurried strokes, pausing every now and then to tease his sensitive, weeping tip. The two of them continued in this way with a word, only touching, playing, and driving each other mad as though they had all the time in the world.

When his dick began to strain on the verge of climax, Alessandro nudged her hand aside. He positioned his head between her thighs, gliding along her pussy lips once more. He came as close to fucking as possible without actually thrusting in her honeyed cunt. Alessandro's face twisted with need. His muscles thrummed, tight and taut with restraint, beside her, but he didn't beg. He seemed determined to honor the rules of their game. Desperately, he growled, " Dios , you are so fucking ready. For me."

"You're right. I'm ready for you," she breathed, " to lose ."

Just to torment him a little more, Elyse crawled on top to rain kisses all over his neck and face while rubbing herself shamelessly against his cock. When the tip nearly slipped inside her, their breaths shorted at the same time. Her eyes widened and his eyes narrowed sharply as their gazes locked. His hands clutched her hips, locking her in place. Her pussy throbbed over his willing cock. The desire to fuck consumed her. She only needed to sink down, down, down to put an end to their misery.

With a pained look, he rasped, "I hate this game. Never have I craved anyone as I crave you."

Crave —he said . But not love. Terrifyingly enough, Elyse realized that she felt the same about him. This passion between them was beginning to feel like addiction. All too well, Elyse understood the destructive nature of obsession. Papá had ultimately succumbed to such vices, and she knew better than to stumble down the same path. The delicate strand of trust that Elyse had woven with Alessandro from the night before could no longer sustain her peace of mind.

Unable to contain her nerves any longer, she blurted out, "Doesn't it scare you?"

He frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Elyse proceeded to slide off of him, distancing herself while trying to explain, "What we share is so intense."

He was still hard. She was still wet. Temptation sang rife between them. Alessandro's eyes flickered with unreadable emotion. "Does it not excite you?"

"I've never felt more alive," admitted Elyse, "but I wish it wasn't so— overwhelming ."

He smirked. "Maybe you will feel better after you fuck me."

She rolled her eyes. "Fucking will only make things more complicated. Whether or not we end up sleeping together, I don't think I'll ever have peace of mind around you."

His eyebrows rose as amusement danced across his face. "What can I do to ease your worries?"

"You almost died again, and, if not for Marcello, you would've been shot. Your life always seems to be one bullet away from death."

"The fuckers who tried to kill me are dead."

She bit her lower lip. "But there will be others, right? This shit never ends.”

Alessandro reached over to cup her face. He smiled at her faintly. "I assure you, Signora Vitale , I will live long enough to see your skin wrinkle and your hair turn white."

Elyse glanced away. Her heart ached slightly. She wanted to believe him, but his promise felt empty. Humans were so fragile. Elyse had saved countless lives in her time, but she'd also seen too many deaths. No one was exempt. They could be young or old. Healthy or sick. Mortality was finite, fate was cruel, and modern medicine could only do so much to delay the inevitable. She suddenly thought of Luca and Monte's conversation about malattia and cancro. Elyse murmured, "May I ask you something?"

His thumb brushed against her cheek in a teasing manner. " Gatta curiosa . It feels like you always wish to ask me something.”

He’d called her a curious cat , and felines with too many questions often ended up dead. Elyse brushed aside his little jab. "Is there someone in your life who has been affected by illness?"

His hand froze upon her cheek. "You will have to be more specific."

Her question seemed to blindside him. Elyse decided to take a shot in the dark. Just to see where it might land. "I mean, do you have a friend or family member, perhaps, who was recently diagnosed with... cancer?"

Alessandro withdrew his hand from her. "Who have you been talking to?"

"No one," Elyse replied.

She didn't want to incur Alessandro's wrath upon Monte and Luca. Elyse fibbed, "I might have overheard the other guests talking about it last night."

He eyed her coolly. "Who?"

"Um…"

"You speak Spanish, no?"

"Only a little," she admitted reluctantly. "The bare minimum, really. Colors and numbers. Food. Some curse words."

Elyse didn't want Alessandro to realize the extent of her proficiency. In case it compelled him to raise his guard whenever speaking in Italian around her. But she couldn't really lie about her Spanish. Elyse remembered speaking a few words in front of Alessandro during their time together in her Queens apartment.

"Was it the Colombians?"

Already, she sensed it would be a bad idea to throw Alessandro's allies under the bus and quickly tried to defuse the situation, "Um, it wasn’t them, and I couldn’t understand what they were saying, anyway. I apologize for—"

Alessandro interjected with a sigh, "You are not mistaken."

"I'm… not?" Elyse blinked in rapid succession. She hadn't expected to be right.

He then cursed under his breath in Italian. "If you overheard something at the charity event, everyone will know soon enough. Word travels fast. I had hoped to keep this hidden from outsiders, at least, until we were married. But it would appear my grace period is over. "

Alessandro's demeanor grew somber. His gaze drifted away. Elyse reached over to guide his face back toward her. Still, he didn't speak. Powerful emotions seemed to be embedded deep within him, unable to rise to the surface. Elyse tried once more to break through his defenses. Gently but firmly, she urged, "I won't push you to share anything, but if this matter concerns our safety, you owe me an explanation at some point."

Alessandro stared at her for a long, long while as though his mind was working out a silent puzzle. His next question shocked her. "Will you marry me, cuore mio?"

Whatever happened to angelo?

Then, she realized he'd just proposed to her. Green eyes popped. Her heart stuttered.

This motherfucker!

Alessandro reached for Elyse's hand and brought it to his cheek. He then turned his face to press a light kiss upon her palm. "I swear, I will give you a far better proposal in a few days. Complete with all the fanfare and the big, shiny diamond you deserve. But, in this moment, I need to know that you are mine. That you can be trusted with what I am about to confess."

As they lay, entwined, on the bed, a prolonged, dream-like moment unfurled between them. Time ceased to flow. Elyse lost herself. Thethudding of her heart silenced everything else. He was staring at her so intensely. She felt as though his gaze might cut into her soul. The sincerity reflected in brown and blue-gray eyes tugged relentlessly on her heartstrings.

Alessandro's question demanded an answer. His proposal burned like a blaze. Too bright to be ignored and too glaring to be avoided. Its radiance provided a glimpse into their future as man and wife. Yet, there would be nothing luminous about her marriage to him. Mafia wives existed in the shadows as nothing more than accessories and pawns. Life would no longer be hers to live.

Will you marry me, cuore mio?

If she walked down the aisle with Alessandro, this gilded cage would become her reality. Elyse contemplated his proposal as though she wielded choice in the matter. Much like the row of useless locks she’d installed on her old apartment door, it was comforting to pretend that her answer might actually make a fucking difference. Did she want to accept his proposal? The logical part of Elyse's brain recognized that Alessandro wasn't in love with her any more than she was in love with him, but they'd certainly become lovers in every other sense of the word.

Perhaps, the better question to ask was— did she possess the strength to reject him? Their attraction to each other felt incendiary as hell. Even if they were to divorce in a year or two, Elyse sensed that it was already too late to forget Alessandro. He was going to leave a lasting scar on her heart. For better or worse, no other man would be able to take his place. Alessandro Vitale was magnetic and unforgettable, and Elyse wanted to be his, his, only his despite the reasons she ought to stay away.

At this moment, the culmination of Elyse's insecurities and uncertainties gave way to a sense of wonder and want and— simplicity . The heart couldn't be denied. Not by reason. Nor logic. Desire simply craved what it craved. Elyse cared about the man. She wanted to learn the depths of Alessandro's secrets. Secrets about the cartel and the Stidda. And the mysterious cancer patient. She wanted to know more about his strained relationship with his stepsister. Her motives had since expanded. Elyse wanted to protect him as much as she wished to guard herself. Like a hopeless addict, she'd become enamored with the bastard who'd entrapped her.

A heartbeat later, her answer arose before she could recall it, "I will marry you."

A slow, tender smile spread across his face. "Do you mean it?"

She nodded with a small smile of her own. "Yes."

With his entire countenance brimming with joy, Alessandro leaned over to catch Elyse's face between his hands. He held her as though she was made of glass. Alessandro then placed a trail of happy, celebratory kisses all over her forehead and both of her cheeks. He stopped right above her lips, however, hovering barely an inch away with hopeful eyes.

He was waiting for her.

Because she'd denied him so many times before. Elyse wouldn't deny him this time. She tilted forward to close the space between them. Elyse kissed him. At first, the touch of his lips upon hers felt sweet, almost innocent, but he soon deepened their kiss by slipping in a bit of tongue. Alessandro kissed her like a devil in love. Consumingly, deeply, intimately. He couldn't seem to get enough of her. Elyse certainly couldn't get enough of him. Their tongues danced together. His teeth tugged lightly upon her lower lip. Their mouths continually locked and lingered in a heady push and pull of pleasure-mingled wickedness.

When they parted at last to catch their breaths, Alessandro's chest was heaving, and Elyse's lips were swollen. They were both flushed in the face.

"If this is what it feels like to kiss you," Alessandro murmured with a semi-dazed and smug expression, "I will not survive our wedding night."

She laughed. "Do these lines always work for you?"

He grinned. "As long as they keep working on you, I intend to use them. You have just agreed to become my wife. You are in no position to criticize my methods of seduction."

A sheepish look fell on her face. "You're shameless."

He kissed her again on the lips. Then again. And again. Shamelessly . "You have made me the happiest man in Paris."

Her heart felt warm and full. "Have I?"

Alessandro beamed at her and emphasized once more for effect, " The happiest ."

She teased, "Why are you only happy in Paris? Why not the world?"

A roguish gleam entered his eyes. "You will make me the happiest man in the world when you beg me to fuck you."

Alessandro proceeded to roll himself onto her. He pinned down her wrists on either side of her head as he positioned himself between her legs. His cock probed at her folds. Hardness brushed against softness once more. Elyse struggled to stay focused. She gasped. Alessandro's unexpected proposal had sidetracked their conversation, and their kiss had distracted her from the more important matters at hand. With some effort, Elyse managed to slip out from under him. Sternly, she reminded Alessandro, "We aren't done talking yet."

Her words seemed to have a sobering effect on him. He closed his eyes. "I do not like it when you are right."

Elyse prompted, "What was it that you wanted to tell me?"

A few more seconds passed between them before Alessandro opened his eyes. His devil-may-care attitude from moments ago flickered away. In its place, a deep crease had appeared between his brow, and his mouth was now drawn tight and straight in a pensive line.

His gaze locked onto her. "What I am about to tell you must stay between us for as long as possible."

"My life will soon be tied to yours. I'm fully aware that it's in my best interest to protect your best interest. You can trust me."

This drew a slight smile from him. "Good girl."

She blushed and waited for him to continue. Alessandro didn't speak up right away. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts. Several more moments passed before he found his words. He sighed. "My father is the capo of our cosca ."

Elyse frowned slightly. To her, this didn't sound like an earth-shattering secret.

"He is also sick."

Her eyebrows rose. Okay —this —was a secret worth keeping from his enemies. In worried tones, she inquired, "Is your father the one who was diagnosed with..."

Elyse's voice trailed off as sadness filled Alessandro's eyes. His Adam's apple bobbed several times before he found his voice again, "My father has... cancer. Pancreatic cancer."

Oh, fuck. Elyse wasn't an oncologist, but she knew that pancreatic cancer was practically a death sentence. Only 5% to 10% of patients survived more than five years after a diagnosis. Elyse's heart hurt for Alessandro. A life was still a life. Even a criminal one. Softly, she asked, "What's the prognosis?"

He grimaced. "Doctors say he will die soon."

"How long does he have?"

"Even with treatment, no more than six months."

"I'm so sorry to hear it," she mumbled, feeling quite helpless. Apologies felt useless. Inadequate and empty. Especially when she’d been the bearer of bad news for anxious families in waiting rooms. Mere words couldn't bring back the dead. Nor could they ease the suffering for those they left behind.

Alessandro shrugged and replied in unfeeling tones, "Do not be sorry. Death is a part of life. Quando finisce la partita il re ed il pedone finiscono nella stessa scatola."

This time, his Italian was beyond her understanding. Elyse's brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"

"When you finish the game," he explained quietly, "the king and pawn end up in the same box."

"That's kind of sad."

"I do not see it as tragedy. God created men to be equals, and death is the equalizer. My father understands this truth. As do I. So we can live without fear. It makes our mortality easier to bear."

As the gravity of his words settled in, her heart sank, too. "I guess the living without fear part sounds nice. But I still find everything else to be quite... dark."

Death always won. Regardless of the goodness in a person's heart. Or the weight of their sins. Fathers and sons. Mafioso and Samaritans. In the end, it seemed, everyone ended up in a casket.

His mouth quirked up, but his eyes were still filled with melancholy. "I am a realist, remember?"

When you finish the game, the king and pawn end up in the same box. The saying reminded Elyse of the locks she had kept on her Queens apartment door. They served the same purpose. They were all lies, stories, and alibis that people told themselves to coexist with a painful reality. Elyse couldn't find the words to comfort him. She didn't even know if it was her place to comfort him. Still, Elyse made the effort to shuffle toward him on the bed and rest her head on his chest, so that he might feel less alone. His arms came around her. He drew her close, dropping a quick kiss on her temple. She stayed in his embrace like this for a while before they spoke again.

"I admit, I have not been a good son to my father." Despite his confession, Alessandro didn't look remorseful. Not a single emotion flickered on his face. Lifting her head, she glanced at Alessandro, trying to figure out everything that he'd left unsaid, but it was impossible to read him. "My brothers were better suited for this life. It is a shame they are rotting in hell, and I am the one who lived."

"Comparing yourself to them accomplishes nothing," Elyse said quietly. "Dying may be inevitable, but life gives us purpose, so try to let go of the past. Until we die, the way you and I choose to live— matters. Your brothers are gone. But you're still here, and you have me now. Let's fight for the life you want. "

His gaze searched hers. "Do I matter?"

"To me," she admitted, "you do."

A smile pulled at his mouth. "Then that is more than enough.”

Elyse smiled back.

“I want to prove my father wrong. Up until he fell ill, I did not take my duties as his successor— seriously . Perhaps, this is why it is difficult for others, like the Stidda and my father's allies to take me— seriously . Until I earn their respect, I will need your grandfather's support. This is why we must marry. Once my father takes his final breath, a violent power struggle may be unavoidable. Rivals will seek to cause chaos and take advantage of my weaknesses. I must not let them succeed."

Elyse studied Alessandro without uttering a word, searching for lies in his confession in order to dissect the truth. She ran through everything Malina had shared about Alessandro and his brothers. Earlier in life, Alessandro appeared to be a mafia prince who enjoyed the spoils of his father's empire without having to contribute a drop of blood, sweat, or tears. It also sounded like Alessandro was being shoved into a role he wasn't fully prepared for because he'd always let his brothers take the lead.

Right now, he seemed to be struggling to garner support from his father's old guard. Clearly, he needed to get his shit together before chaos struck. In a way, chaos already found them. Someone tried to kill Alessandro in New York. She wondered who attempted to target him again in Paris.

He asked, "Do you think less of me now?"

"No," Elyse answered truthfully.

"Why not?"

Alessandro was watching her closely. He appeared to care a lot about her thoughts of him when she answered, "You didn't choose to be born a Vitale. No more than I wanted to be my father's daughter. Or a Graviano. There's nothing wrong with trying to make the best of a difficult situation."

The parallels between their lives were uncanny. Both of their fathers had fucked them over by becoming invalids. She was still trying to clean up her father's mess, and now Alessandro was tasked with keeping his father's empire from destruction.

Gently, he brushed a strand of hair from her face. "That is generous of you to say. All things considered."

All things considered . Like her being forced to wed him. Because his father was dying. A familiar tendril of indignation flared. Elyse scowled a little. "For the record, I'll always resent you for forcing this marriage on me."

"I accept your resentment," Alessandro murmured. "I know I deserve it."

At least, he was self-aware. For another moment, she wondered how many more attempts there would be on Alessandro's life until he secured his position as his father's successor. Irritation waned as her concern for his safety took center stage. "But I suppose… I can understand your point of view. In order to survive this shitshow, you have no choice but to fuck me over."

He studied her for a moment before asking, "Is there anything I can do to make you happier about our arrangement?"

"I don't know."

Suddenly, Alessandro rose from their bed, pulling Elyse up with him, and, within this very instant, the heaviness of their conversation dissipated. A new, lighter mood replaced it. Alessandro smiled faintly. "Come, Signora Vitale , I have plans for us today."

She side-eyed him warily. "What kind of plans?"

He started nudging her toward the shower. " The hopelessly romantic kind. We are in Paris, after all, and I have not been able to take you anywhere. Perhaps, after today, you will learn to resent your future husband— a little less."

Elyse scoffed through her smile, "Doubt it."

Alessandro stopped to raise her palm to his lips. He kissed it lovingly. Then, he winked at her. "Challenge accepted, cuore mio . I am determined to sweep you off your feet!"