Page 68 of Isle of Seduction
My heart flutters at the knowledge that no matter what he does, he comes home to me every night, sleeps in my bed, which has become our bed, and dotes on me.
When I’m not being bad and deserving of a punishment. That happens often. I might provoke him and coax the frustration out on purpose. I smile to myself.
“Something, funny, guerrieritta?”
“Just thinking about last night.”
After we had dinner at Catalina’s, Andrea took me in the car. The windows fogged so much and it rocked so hard, his mother had to come knocking to ask us to take it somewhere else. She’d said, she didn’t want the cops to show up on her doorstep for indecent exposure. It was more than exposure at that point. I was mortified, but she winked at me so I guess she didn’t hold it against me.
He hums and reaches for me over the comfortable leather seat of the jet to land me on his lap. “And pray tell, sweetheart, what’s so funny about my cock inside you?”
Nico swears under his breath before leaving for the closed room at the back of the plane, and we both chuckle like teenagers.
“Be on your best behaviour this week,” I tell him.
He places a hand to his heart, mocking concern. “Io?”
“Yes, you. I know you and Pierce have history, but Christmas time is important for me and my family.”
“You mean, for you and Lana?”
“No, for everyone. Dom can’t be at the estate this year, but my other cousins are there too, and I’ve missed them. I don’t want to have to stop a war between you and Pierce.”
“Pierce and I get along just fine.” He says it like it pisses him off, but I know he suffered at the hands of his cousin.
Their newly found cordial understanding is fragile and considering his frustrations at not getting one up on Addams and still being suspected as a murderer by most, I wouldn’t get it past him to start shit just to be able to hit someone.
Where Pierce is cold and controlled, Andrea holds fire in him that threatens to boil over and raze everything and everyone to the ground.
“We’ll take it out on the mat, sweetheart. I’ve heard the Morettis have a nice boxing ring I can use. That’s the perfect excuse to hit my cousin.”
When we land, the first breath of Kalliste air I get fills me with nostalgia so strong I almost feel like crying. It’s cold and crisp, the wind coming from the Sea carrying the smell of salt in its mist. Even the day after Christmas, the sunrays warm up my skin and I have to put on my favourite white heart-shaped sunglasses.
Lana is there to meet us on the tarmac of Sant Armellu airport, dressed in a warm black wool coat over her jeans and dark oversized cardigan. We fall into each other’s arms. It’s the first time I see her since she was abducted almost four months ago. Her eyes hold a haunted quality to them and it seems like she hasn’t seen the sun in days. The skin around her eyes is purplish, a tale of sleepless nights.
“You don’t sleep,” I say. It isn’t a question. I know what trauma looks like, and she’s drowning. I almost want to beat Pierce’s ass for not taking enough care of her, but when he steps in behind her and lands a hand on her shoulders, the clouds behind her green eyes lift.
Dressed in a fine grey suit under his trench coat, he couldn’t look more different than Andrea and his traditional black on black jeans and hoodie, though they have the same intense energy.
“She’s getting there,” Pierce says.
“And she can speak for herself.” Lana throws him a look that would make a lesser man whither. He just raises both hands in surrender and chuckles.
Good. She’s still in there, somewhere.
“Have you heard from Igor?” I ask, knowing it might not be the best topic to start with, but his absence at her back is a hole too deep to forget.
Pierce shakes his head behind Lana’s shoulders.
“Okay. Where’s Jules?” I ask.
She tenses. “I don’t know.”
Julian hasn’t been the same since Igor’s disappearance and Lana told me many times how distant he’s become. He lost the love of his life and no matter what Pierce does, no one can find him. My theory is that Igor doesn’t want Julian within breathing distance of his fucked up brother and doesn’t want to be found.
“Alright, enough depressing shit. Let’s get to Mammona’s, I’m fucking starving,” I joke to diffuse the tension that wraps around us, clinging to our skin like oil. It’s easy to fall back into the persona of everyone’s sunshine, but the words feel hollow.
As we drive to the Morettis’ estate, the sea glimmers with specks of sunshine over the turquoise waters. I’m captivated by the view from the hills, as if it’s the first time I see it. The Mediterranean Sea calls for me but all I hear is the appealing murmur of the dark green forest outside my window back home.