The Fallen Ones

Chapter 4 • The Second Summer

Enzo:

I fucked up. Truly. Actually, if I think about it, maybe I'm just fucked. Because I broke the cardinal rule of the DiSilva brothers: I let a girl distract me.

They can't know. They can't know that she's here. They can't know that I'm helping her. They can't know that I killed my own men, with my own hands, for her. They can't know.

I can hear it now. Antonio making fun of me for going soft. Gio chastising me for losing focus. And Luca, Christ help me. He's only ever been angry at me a handful of times in my whole life. Each and every time I nearly shit myself. He might kill me for this one.

But seeing Maria smile is worth it.

I know my focus is truly fucked because here I am, sitting on a fucking yacht. I made the mistake of truly showing Maria the castle last night. She said that it was eerie, especially at night, without any noise or lights.

So I said fuck it and took her on a full tour of my home. I took her all the way up to the highest point, overlooking the water. From there you can see some tiny islands, completely made of caves, that almost no one goes to. But she decided she wanted to see.

I could've said no. I know that. But the way she looked at me when she asked, it was like any rational thought went straight out the window. So I'll say it again, I'm fucked.

"Look," Maria points at the island. "There's a dock."

"Sì," I affirm simply before going back to my laptop.

"Can we go?" she asks.

I glance at her over the screen, "on the island?"

"Why not?" she retorts quickly.

My eyes narrow slightly. There's plenty of reasons to say no to her. I have far too much work to get done. The sun is nearly starting to set. The caves aren't known for being particularly safe. I don't even have a swimsuit with me.

"Capitano," I call over my shoulder. "Attracco sull'isola."
(Captain, dock on the island)

Maria smiles brightly and claps her hands in excitement. My chest tightens and I bite back a smile of my own. Making her smile might be my new favorite hobby.

She stands abruptly, pulling my attention. She carelessly tosses off her shirt followed closely by her shorts. Yet another tiny bikini covers only what's necessary and I find myself staring.

Long, smooth legs that lead to full hips. A strip of red fabric hides most of her little tattoo. The dip of her waist. Strings precariously holding the fabric over her breasts. Golden skin under a simple necklace. By the time I reach her face, she's grinning in amusement.

She tilts her head, "ti piace quello che vedi?"
(Like what you see?)

I shift in my seat, "hai intenzione di andare in acqua?"
(Are you planning on going in the water?)

"Of course," she scoffs, sitting next to me.

Our arms brush against one another and I can feel my heart rate spike. What the actual fuck is she doing to me? She cranes her head to look at my computer and I quickly snap it closed.

"Don't be nosy," I scold.

"You're always so busy," she sighs. "I'm curious."

"You shouldn't be," I insist.

"Whatever," she rolls her eyes. "Aren't you going to change?"

"No," I say simply.

"Okay," she shrugs.