Diavolo (Devil’s Playground #1)

22. Chapter 22

22

As the back of Elyse's legs bumped the bed, desire and yearning sparked within despite her concerns about Mariposa's party. To Elyse's surprise, though, Alessandro didn't push her onto the mattress and cage her beneath him. Instead, he let her go. Quietly, her husband intimated, "Another, even happier, thought crossed my mind—"

She gazed up at him with suspicion in her eyes.

Alessandro smiled winsomely. "I broke the rules. Of our game. On our wedding night."

She frowned a little. Try as she might, Elyse couldn't remember the exact play-by-play. Everything between them had spiraled into sex so quickly that night. It was all a blur at this point. Elyse laughed. "I don't think the game matters anymore. We already fucked."

"That is where you are wrong," Alessandro countered. " A chi dai il dito si prende anche il braccio ."

She cocked her head to the side. "What does that mean?"

"It means," Alessandro explained huskily, his eyes darkening with pleasure, " your husband needs to be governed . Or he may become a fucking menace in the days to come."

Elyse reached up to rest her hand upon his cheek. "Do you want to be disciplined?"

Her voice sounded soft and sweet, but she was promising something far more depraved. He inhaled a quick, short breath. "Only by you, wife."

Without breaking eye contact, Alessandro began disrobing, shirt, belt, trousers, boxers, until he stood naked and aroused before her. A second later, like a magnet seeking its mate, Elyse's hand drifted down to grip his cock. Yet, even while Alessandro grew impossibly harder in her hand, filling her with a heady sense of feminine power, a sudden and unexpected surge of uncertainty also came over her. Elyse couldn't seem to shake her worries about tonight's party. The last mafia gathering she attended had ended in disaster.

She bit her lower lip. "What if I don't know how to discipline a man like you?"

Although, the question Elyse had really wanted to ask was— what if she wasn't cut out to be his wife? Alessandro was a raging optimist, too confident in their ability to weather the shitstorm that awaited them tonight. She was a realist. It made her second guess everything. They were fortunate that Cara hadn't overdosed at Carmen's party. In her old life, Elyse never questioned her skills and qualifications as a surgeon. She possessed the necessary hand-eye coordination and manual dexterity to repair blunt-force injuries. She knew how to keep calm during high-pressure emergencies. But could she hold down the fort against the Valentinas and Caras and Mariposas in Alessandro's world? For once, Elyse didn't feel qualified to do a job.

Alessandro didn't fail to notice her trepidation. The sweet, seductive pull between them faded to a quieter, more meditative sort of mood. Gently, he observed, "You have the look about you again."

Sighing, Elyse nudged Alessandro onto the bed and crawled into his lap. His arms wrapped around her comfortingly. They sat nestled together on the mattress with him in the nude and her fully clothed.

"I'm worried that I'll fail you again tonight."

Alessandro placed a hand beneath her chin to tilt her face toward him. "I am not worried at all. I have full confidence in you."

She grimaced. "The stakes seem high. Too high . People will die if I fuck up."

Hell, she could die, Alessandro could die, too, but Elyse chose to leave those fears buried inside her heart. It felt like a bad omen to utter the words aloud.

"You worry too much, cuore mio . I am sure there have been patients who died in your care as well. You cannot save everyone," he said. "How is this any different?"

Her eyes flitted to his face with an accusing stare. "This is different, though."

"How?"

Elyse fell still for a moment. The challenge in his tone stirred up a slew of deeply embedded emotions. Unrest unraveled her composure. Her identity as a person seemed to be swaying in limbo. It took Elyse some time to find the right words to voice the complexity of her thoughts. "The motives behind our actions define us. For years, my purpose at the hospital was to save lives, but, now, as your wife, I won't be striving for the greater good. I may be doing just the opposite."

A new kind of tension surged in the air. It felt like the strain between two sides of a heated debate. Elyse was still straddling Alessandro's lap. He was no longer hard, though. The contrast between their physical closeness and the disconnect between their minds felt laughable yet tragic.

"I see your point," Alessandro growled, "but I could argue that taking the life of one enemy also saves ten allies. Am I not striving for the greater good in this instance?"

Elyse fired back, "What about the millions you've made through violence and bloodshed? How many lives have you taken through cocaine sales? Think of the men you've destroyed through addiction and financial ruin."

Her words shot out like bullets. Addiction and financial ruin remained sore subjects for Elyse because of Papá . Still, she hadn't meant to lose her cool. Elyse didn't know why they were fighting when they were supposed to be fucking. In a way, none of this his fault. And she was already in too deep to judge him. The wedding bands on her finger was proof of her hypocrisy. Nevertheless, here they were— fighting— like a feral beast and a spiteful bitch.

Alessandro's gaze narrowed sharply. "What about governments and corporations? How many lives have they taken through incompetence and greed? Unlike them, my line of work operates in the shadows, but you may be surprised to learn, wife , that the mafia is not so different from legal but corrupt institutions when all is said and done. We are all ruled by money and power. There is no such thing as a noble cause."

She spat, "Maybe not for men like you."

He spat back, "You are married to a man like me."

All of a sudden, every ounce of stress and uncertainty and insanity from the past few weeks mounted within her into an uncontrollable ball of white-hot emotion. It burst, no holds barred, from her lips like an acid-laced bomb, "Then you'll be my burden to carry."

Instantly, his fiery demeanor dimmed. Alessandro looked deeply hurt. His voice grew quiet. "Is that how you view me?"

Instantly, regret swarmed her. Elyse tried to make amends, "I—"

"It is funny. Because I have always regarded you as a blessing."

Her fire diminished as well, the white-hot emotion dissolving into dying embers. She gazed helplessly into his brown and blue-gray eyes. "I'm sorry. I let my emotions get the better of me. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

He murmured in clipped tones, "Do not apologize. I asked for your truth. You gave it to me."

"I didn't mean to say such an awful thing."

"But you must have been thinking it. That is why you could not contain it."

Green eyes glistened with distress. "The last thing I want is to hurt you."

His jaw clenched. "But you have wounded me, nonetheless. I cannot change who I am. All I can do is try to be the best man I can be in this fucked up world of mine. Eventually, I hope you will be able to see me in a different light."

She began to panic. Even though Elyse didn't feel remorseful about speaking her truth, she felt like shit for attacking something that would be impossible for him to remedy. She tried to explain, "The way I feel about you isn't straightforward or simple—"

He cut her off and muttered, " Enough ."

Elyse eyed him warily and insisted, "Please listen to me."

He shook his head. "I need to get ready for tonight. You should do the same."

Alessandro went on to place his hands upon her waist, setting her aside from his lap, and rose from the bed. He started walking away. Anxiously, Elyse attempted to call him back, "Wait!"

But he didn't seem to hear her. Alessandro was already in the bathroom. He then slammed the door shut like a surly teenager and turned on the shower at full blast. The message was clear. Her husband was in no mood to continue their conversation. A tightness seized her chest. So much for attending Mariposa's party as united sword and shield. Her mind floated back to Cara and Valentina with a grim expression. Now that there was trouble in paradise, the two she-snakes were probably going to try and drive an even deeper wedge between Alessandro and her. Reinforcements would be necessary.

Alessandro wasn't willing to deal with her at the moment, so Elyse decided to look for Malina. Maybe the housekeeper would be able to give her some advice on how to sort through this headache of a situation. Elyse settled into a reflective sort of melancholy as Alessandro continued to avoid her for the rest of the afternoon.

Once-heightened emotions fell dormant, she was left with an inkling of clarity that came too late. Earlier, the talk with her husband had wrung forth something furrowed deep within, creeping upward and outward to sucker-punch her when she least expected it. Elyse didn't realize what had incited her outburst until now. In retrospect, her tirade had less to do with Alessandro and everything to do with an identity crisis.

Because Dr. Elyse Romero was gone.

She'd officially become the capo's wife. It'd been less than two weeks since Elyse learned about her Graviano blood. Less than two weeks since Alessandro had proposed to her in Paris. So much had happened since then. Most of it? Beyond her control. She wasn't ready to let go of her old self, of her old life, however difficult and imperfect it might have been. Elyse recognized herself as a flawed human being. Past lovers accused her of being cold. Unfeeling. Friends chided her for overanalyzing the shit out of everything. But she'd always tried to hold onto the better parts of her character and strive to do things the hard way simply because it was the right thing to do.

Like catering to Stefano's demands so she could keep her father safe. Instead of pulling the plug on Robbie Romero.

Like studying her ass off, scrimping and saving her way through med school, to become a surgeon. Instead of giving in to the temptations of seedy, fast money that her father's colleagues had pushed on her when she was only a minor. Seedy money in drugs. Fast money in stripping.

At least, back then, she possessed some semblance of choice. A hint of agency over her future. Presently, she no longer had the privilege to be a good person. It was only about survival. Her sense of self was in shambles. Elyse feared she might not be able to master the responsibilities thrust upon her as Alessandro's wife. She was also afraid that these very duties would corrupt her, stripping away her humanity, and force her to partake in the same evil, terrible deeds that Stefano and Mikey once inflicted on her and her father.

It was disorienting to find a mindset that could explain away these thoughts battling inside her head. Through the mayhem, however, a beacon of truth illuminated ever bright. Elyse saw it clearly at last. No matter how lost and bereft she felt, it didn't give her the right to lash out at the only man she had ever valued, desired, and respected. On a deeper level, their fight hadn't been about morality, legal or illegal matters, or the obvious corruption that existed everywhere in the world. Not at all. What truly fueled their fight had been Elyse's resentment, founded or unfounded, toward her husband. He'd flipped her sense of self inside out. She was fighting against the reality of becoming a mafiosa. Something she hated her entire life. Of joining hands with the very assholes she wanted to escape ever since the first time Stefano and Mikey came knocking at her father's door. She'd taken out all of her explosive, conflicting emotions on Alessandro.

Then you'll be my burden to carry.

These venomous words replayed themselves over and over. Shame curdled inside her heart. For the first time since arriving in Europe, Elyse had allowed the chaos of her pent-up emotions ram through self-control and good sense.

"I shouldn't have been such a bitch to him," Elyse mumbled as Malina fixed her hair for the evening.

"Maybe not," the housekeeper replied tactfully, "but what matters now is how you intend to move forward."

How did she intend to do move forward with Alessandro? The turbulence within had passed, and Elyse desperately wanted to apologize. It wasn't fair to resent her husband for being a Vitale. Alessandro hadn't chosen to be his father's son. No more than she wanted to inherit Papá's debts. Fate had fucked them over the moment they were born. "Should I try to talk to him again?"

Malina's hands stilled on Elyse's head. " Signora Vitale , if I may..."

Elyse winced slightly. Malina had stopped calling her Dr. Romero . She pushed aside her discomfort and urged Malina to continue, "Please. Tell me. I want to make things right with Alessandro."

Malina nodded. "Apologies are nice. But actions speak louder than words. If you wish to soothe Signor Vitale's temper, show that you care for him."

"I… see."

But Elyse didn't see. Not really. Healthy relationships had never been her forte. She had a few boyfriends throughout high school and college, but none of those relationships survived past the one-year mark. Conflicts that arose always went unresolved. Between school and Papá's debts, Elyse simply didn't possess the bandwidth to handle the petty drama. It'd been easier to walk away than to stay and work out the kinks. After graduation, Elyse's career became her only love, and Stefano and Mikey's reappearance in her life prevented her from dating altogether. Now, at the ripe age of thirty-two, Elyse still didn't know how to troubleshoot a relationship, let alone a marriage. She felt lost.

Malina glanced at Elyse. Woman's intuition shone from her eyes. "Do not worry. The male mind is far simpler than ours. For the most part, it does not require much to make them happy."

Elyse winced. "I hurt him, though."

" Signor Vitale will get over it once he sees that you are in his corner. And not working against him."

"What if I don't know how to show him that I'm on his side?"

"He wants what we all want."

"Which is?"

Malina smiled faintly. "Imagine finding a friend who wished to learn of your failings, not to judge you, but to help you find your strength."

"I see."

This time, Elyse did see. Her thoughts began to turn. Perhaps, she could use tonight's party to her advantage. To show Alessandro—along with his allies—that she was his wife in all the ways that mattered. Elyse would let him be their sword and step into her role as their shield. They needed to work together and make peace with the Berlusconis. If needed, Elyse was prepared to set aside her pride and extend an olive branch to Cara. With her heart brimming with gratitude, she turned to thank Malina.

"I am happy to help," Malina mumbled.

The housekeeper started on Elyse's makeup. Elyse closed her eyes as Malina applied some eyeshadow. Her mind drifted and wandered elsewhere. "May I ask another question?"

Malina swept some peachy-pink blush across Elyse's cheeks. "Of course."

"Was there a reason why Valentina, Carmen, and Alessandro's father didn't attend the wedding?"

Malina's expression remained steadfast and calm. " Signor Vitale wished to use their absence to make a statement."

Elyse frowned. "What sort of statement?"

"A statement," the older woman specified, "to let allies know the time has come to recognize him as capo ."

Dot after dot began to connect. The politics behind Alessandro's strategy became evident. It seemed her husband wanted to prove that he was influential enough to prevent his own father, stepmother, and stepsister—power players in their own right—from attending an event as important as a Vitale-Graviano wedding. His message was clear. The old guard was irrelevant, and the new guard had taken over.

"Does this mean," Elyse inquired with a bleak expression, "his father's cancer is no longer a secret?"

Malina nodded stiffly.

Elyse demanded, "Do his enemies know already?"

"The Stidda know. The Camorra know. The Basilischi know. All the surrounding Italian mafias know."

This alarming warning sent another wave of shame rolling through Elyse. While she had been preoccupied with abstract problems, Alessandro had been dealing with a concrete crisis. His father was dying. Their empire was at stake. Rival mafias were waiting for him to fail at every turn.

"I criticized Alessandro and pushed him away," Elyse muttered guiltily, "when he needed my support."

Malina patted Elyse's shoulder gently. "Be kinder to yourself. To be honest, I am surprised by how well you maintained grace under pressure. You have been through hell and high water in a short span of time. Individuals with fainter hearts would have lost their minds by day two."

Elyse grimaced. "Thank you?"

The housekeeper continued in comforting tones, "You are welcome. At the end of the day, Signor Vitale is a capable man. He does not need you to shoulder his duties, but, if you can show him some kindness, it would make a world of difference. Everyone else can go to hell as far as he is concerned. But one genuine word of praise— from you —would probably make him one happy bastard for the rest of his days."

Malina's words filled Elyse with a sudden sense of purpose. She wanted to reach out to Alessandro more than ever. Elyse wanted to show him that she could be his anchor when storms ravaged their seas. As they finished getting ready for the party, Elyse proceeded to spend the next thirty minutes grilling the housekeeper for more dirt and arsenal to use against Mariposa and Cara and Valentina. She was preparing for battle.

At seven o'clock sharp, Alessandro came to Elyse. He wore a light gray suit paired with a black dress shirt, no tie, and the top two buttons of his shirt had been left undone. Her husband looked sharp but not stuffy. Casual yet sexy. The man was completely and utterly fuckable. She could barely take her eyes off of him.

For tonight, Malina had selected a mid-length, deep emerald, satin slip dress for Elyse. Delicate, thin straps held up the hourglass silhouette of the bodice, and the color of the fabric complemented the green in her eyes like an jewel-toned dream. Elyse knew she looked stunning. A fact that didn't fail to escape Alessandro's heated gaze. His eyes raked her from head to toe even though he was clearly not ready to kiss and make up.

"You look... beautiful," he offered grudgingly.

"Thank you," Elyse replied with a small smile. "You look beautiful as well."

Her compliment seemed to catch him by surprise. A slight blush tinged his tanned cheeks. Alessandro muttered, " Grazie ."

With Nils at the wheel, they got into the car and headed out to Mariposa's beachfront villa in Carini. Monte and his crew of bodyguards followed behind them in a separate vehicle. Alessandro ignored Elyse much as he had in Paris after her non-attempt to escape. His demeanor felt like ice. Cold and impenetrable. Elyse tried not to let it bother her.

They arrived at a villa framed by swaying palms and wrought iron gates. Its clean whitewashed stone walls and sienna-brown terracotta roof tiles somehow managed to merge old with new while staying true to the local architectural style. Alessandro helped Elyse out of the car with a grim expression. She joked quietly, "Let's hope tonight will be boring and uneventful."

He grunted in agreement and tried to let go of her hand once she exited the vehicle, but Elyse wasn't having it. She clung to his arm, latching on to him with firm, unwavering affection. Brown and blue-gray eyes widened at her boldness. A question simmered in his gaze. "What are you doing?"

"My hands are cold," Elyse explained. "The car ride over was a bit chilly ."

His arm muscles tensed beneath her hold. In cool tones, he drawled, "I did not notice."

Yet, happily, Alessandro didn't pry himself away from her. They continued to walk, side by side, toward the villa. She took this as a sign to continue making peace with her man. In soft, pliant tones, Elyse murmured, "Alessio?"

Her use of his nickname seemed to melt his wintry countenance even more. His muscles relaxed slightly beneath her palms. "What is it?"

Elyse lowered her lashes. "I understand there are matters that remain unresolved between us, but I'm willing to set them aside for a few hours to help you in any way I can."

His eyebrows rose. "Is that so?"

Elyse leaned over to whisper in his ear, "I've wronged you. I know it. Punish me later. Sir ."

As her suggestive words registered in his brain, Alessandro's head whipped around at lightning speed. He glared down at her suspiciously. "Why this sudden change of heart?"

Alessandro's eyes were dark with desire, but his voice still thrummed in anger. With wide, sincere eyes, Elyse offered awkwardly, "As I said earlier, I was wrong to—"

She didn't have the opportunity to finish her apology, though. They'd arrived at the front door. It swung open before either of them could knock or ring the bell. Valentina stood in the doorway, smirking in her blonde and blue-eyed glory. "Ah, Dr. Romero. We meet again."

She addressed her as Dr. Romero . Not Signora Vitale . From anyone else's mouth, Elyse would've preferred the former, but, from Valentina, it felt like an intentional insult. The bitch was refusing to recognize her status as Alessandro's wife.

"Good to see you again, Ms. Rizzo," Elyse returned politely, careful not to let her face betray any animosity.

Valentina turned away from Elyse. She only had eyes for Alessandro. In Italian, she cooed at him," Mi dispiace di aver saltato il matrimonio, fratello. "

Alessandro arched an eyebrow at his stepsister. " Sono sicuro che avevi cose migliori da fare, Valentina. "

Valentina's expression turned bitter and strained. " Avrei dovuto essere io in piedi accanto a te ... all'altare. "

Elyse froze slightly at Valentina's last remark. She couldn't pick up every word, but she understood enough to gather the gist of it.

Me.

Standing beside you.

Altar.

The fuck?