Page 54 of Vicious Intentions
Raffaele steps out from between the trees on command, as if he’d always belonged there, tall and solid and undeniably real. For a moment, I just stare at him.
He looks different again. Not in a way I can immediately explain, but enough that I notice every change. He’s taller again, I think, or maybe broader. His jaw is sharper now, too, the angles of his face more pronounced. There’s also something heavier in the way he carries himself, as if the world had settled more firmly on his shoulders.
It’s still Raffaele, though. Even if he does look all grown up.
“Happy birthday, angel,” he says, his voice warm and familiar, threaded with something more masculine than I remember.
My smile stretches before I can stop myself, the sight of him easing the tight knot in my chest.
“You came.”
“Of course I did,” he says, like there was never any question. “You really think I’d miss seeing you again?”
Raffaele steps a little closer, still leaving a careful distance between us. I’m not sure what’s stopping us from closing the gap. Or maybe I do. Perhaps he’s taking inventory of all the small changes in me, too.
Lord knows there are plenty in him that I didn’t notice last year. The way his shoulders block the last strands of fading daylight. The faint scent of his cologne mingled with the cold air, a perfect combination of sandalwood and earth. The way his blue eyes linger on my face a second longer than they used to.
“You look older,” he says softly, breaking the silence.
“So do you,” I tease with a grin.
He runs a hand over his face, and suddenly the playful, restless boy I first befriended is standing before me again.
“You’re killing me here, beautiful. Do I look that bad that I don’t even get a hug?”
A giggle escapes me as I run forward and launch myself into his arms. He catches me easily, his arms tightening around me.
“Much better,” he mutters, his tense shoulders relaxing now that he has me in his arms. “I missed the crap out of you.”
“Me too,” I admit, pressing my cheek to his chest and feeling how hard his heart is beating.
“I doubt you missed me half as much,” he adds quietly. “The thought of seeing you again was the only thing that kept me from losing my shit all year.” I frown at his statement.
I know it’s been hard on him. Ever since he took theomertàlast summer on his eighteenth birthday, he’s been more prone to sending me long texts, almost manuscript-like, complaining about his older brother, Matteo, and everything he’s now forced to become after being made.
I don’t have the heart to reprimand him for telling me these things. I don’t have it in me to remind him that I’m still the daughter of his family’s most hated rival, and that he shouldn’t confide in me anything that has to do withCosa Nostradealings. But I know he needs to vent. I know he needs to release his frustrations, or they’ll end up consuming him.
I’m just glad I can be there for him, the way he’s always been there for me.
“It’s been so fucking hard, Anna. The things I’ve seen… the things I’ve had to do…”
I hold him tighter, knowing that he’s seconds from falling apart.
“I’m so sorry you have to go through that. I’m so sorry.”
“It isn’t fair, Anna. Carlo promised me… he fucking promised me that I wouldn’t have to do this shit!”
When I feel his body begin to tremble with rage, I pull away just enough to place my palm against his cheek and look into the steel of his eyes.
“I know, Rafe. I know. It’s okay. You’re okay. Whatever happened, you survived it. Because you’re strong. Stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
“Fuck,” he curses, pressing his temple on mine. “How do you always know what to say? How do you always make everything better?”
I don’t offer him an explanation because I don’t have one. I’m not even sure that I make things better for him. But I understand his pain. I understand his plight.
I saw how hard it was for both Marcello and Jude to step into their roles when they took theomertà. I know the weight that vow places on a person, the way it reshapes who they’re allowed to be.
Stella was the only one who never seemed fazed by it. It was as if she had been born for the role. And maybe she was. Perhaps some people slip into that life as naturally as a fish to water.
