Page 48 of Vicious Intentions
Raffaele reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small blue velvet box.
“Well?” he says after I take too long to take it out of his hands. “Don’t just stand there. Open it.”
With deft fingers, I lift the lid to find a silver necklace nestled inside. A round pendant rests at the center, a delicate musical note etched into the precious metal.
“Rafe,” I breathe. “It’s beautiful.”
I trace the charm with the pad of my finger, the cool silver warming beneath my touch.
“Turn it around,” he says, his eyes shining.
I flip the pendant over and find an engraving etched into the metal.
Always follow the song in your heart.
R.
Happy tears blur my vision at the care behind such a thoughtful gift.
“I love it,” I say softly. “Thank you.”
Raffaele’s smile stretches wide, our earlier argument completely forgotten. He lifts the necklace from the box and twirls his fingers in a silent request for me to turn around. I follow his lead, presenting my back to him as he gently clasps the chain around my neck. His touch is careful, almost reverent.
“There,” he murmurs in my ear. “Now you’ll always have something to remember me by.”
I brush my fingers over the charm and turn to face him. “I don’t need this to remember you. Your friendship is gift enough.”
Raffaele’s smile lingers, but then his eyes drift to my lips, his gaze darkening in a way that makes my breath hitch. Before I can react, he leans in and presses his lips to mine. His lips are warm and gentle and as first kisses go, it isn’t unpleasant. But there’s no real spark behind it. My blood doesn’t fever at his touch. My heart doesn’t skip a beat at how his lips cling to mine. All I feel is fondness.
I love Raffaele with all my heart. He’s the best friend I could have ever hoped for. But I’ve never seen him as anything more. And this kiss, no matter how sweet, only cements that I probably never will. He must feel it too, because when he pulls back, the brightness in his eyes has dulled somewhat.
Instead of acknowledging what just happened, I force a smile and wrap my arms around him in a hug. “I wish I could stay longer. I miss you already.”
They aren’t empty words. I mean every word. I will miss him terribly.
Raffaele’s nose presses into my hair as he tightens his hold. “I’ll miss you too,dolce angelo.”
Ever since he heard my mother call me that, he likes to use the endearment to tease me. Tonight, however, I feel that it carries more weight. More affection than he wants me to notice.
Thankfully, when we pull apart, his familiar playful grin is back in place, my anxiety easing at the sight of it.
“Maybe next year I’ll sneak another visit,” he says lightly. “Make it our own birthday tradition.”
“I’d like that,” I admit, my heart full of joy.
“Good. I would, too,” he says before pressing a chaste kiss to my temple. “Now go, before I change my mind and take you back to New York with me.”
I giggle at the threat, though part of me senses he isn’t entirely joking.
I wave Raffaele goodbye and hurry back toward the mansion, careful to retrace my steps so I don’t get lost. But as I head back to the party, my hand lifts instinctively to the necklace, my fingers brushing over the small musical note.
This was the best birthday I’ve ever had. It almost gives me hope for the days ahead and that moments of happiness like this don’t have to be so fleeting.
But then life has a way of reminding you that joy is fragile. That even the happiest of moments don’t last forever. And sometimes, the people you love—the ones you thought would always be in your life—are the first to fall when the world turns against you.
Chapter 9
Matteo
