Chapter 18: Dangerous Deception: Chapter 18

Italy is beautiful.

A brilliant blue sky stretches as far as the eye can see, home to a sun that bakes my skin with pleasant heat. The air shimmers all around, birds sing songs I’ve never heard before as they flit about overhead, and the warm scent of the dirt mingles with the sweetness of the grapes hanging in fat, juicy clumps from the lines of vines that stretch seemingly to the ends of the Earth.

Raffaele wasn’t kidding when he said the vineyards are heaven on earth. I’ve never seen a place so stunning before. I thought Raffaele’s estate was luxurious, but the manor that sits in the center of the vineyard is out of this world. Red brick and pink tiles on the roof give a rather romantic air, with a dirt driveway lined with gigantic trees so thick that a whole day could pass just trying to run around one. A large fountain sits in front of the house with marble dolphins leaping out of the pool to spout water high in the air.

A large swimming pool occupies most of the back garden, and the manor sits atop a hill, so the vineyard stretches out below like some great, leafy ocean. In the distance, the winery stands like a guard, watching over the growing fruit being tended to by people who have lived here for generations.

When we arrived, Raffaele told me all wine was made in the vineyard. In his words, it helps ensure that every penny goes to the people working here, but I wonder if there’s a tax reason involved.

Not that I have any desire to learn about the taxes in Europe.

“Adelina?” Caterina’s voice cuts through my rambling thoughts, dragging me back to the present. I blink and glance down at the handful of grapes resting in my palm. They’re brilliantly purple but one has burst, leaking red juice down my palm.

My heart skips a beat.

It seems that grape juice is painfully similar to blood.

Caterina’s hand clasps my elbow and guides me back a few steps, turning me to face her. “Adelina, is everything alright?”

Looking up at her, the intensity of the sun forces me to squint through my shades. Heat radiates from my cheeks, fogging the bottom of my glasses while I force a smile and nod. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Caterina tilts her head slightly, and her eyes run over me, as if she’s inspecting me for something I can’t see. She takes her job incredibly seriously, which I don’t fault her for considering what happened to my last guard. She’s kind, though, in a terrifying sort of way. Her skill when we exercise together is intimidating, but just when I doubted that we could be friends, it turned out we share the same taste in movies. She’s as much of a nerd as I am, although she’s never held a paintbrush in her life.

“I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“This place.” I look around us, glimpsing people dotted around tending to the vines.

“Do you not like it?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s beautiful here. I almost feel like I’ve stepped into another world. The air is different. The sun is different. I close my eyes, and I feel like I’m being wrapped in these large, warm hands.”

“This vineyard is a beauty,” Caterina agrees. “In all my years working with him, he’s never brought anyone else to this specific one.”

“How many does he have?”

“Twelve.” Caterina reaches for a cluster of grapes and plucks them from the vine. “If I remember correctly, eight were in the family when he took over and the last four, he acquired recently.”

“Stolen from someone else?” I lift one brow and tilt my hand, letting the few grapes I have slip free and fall to the ground.

“No. You see.” Caterina plucks a grape from the bunch and offers it to me, then we start to walk. “The vineyards were already in Raffaele’s family. They’re part of his bloodline. The issue his family ran into was how to make them worthwhile since the wine market isn’t exactly exclusive these days.”

“I can’t imagine there’s much demand.” Popping the grape into my mouth, the sudden burst of sweetness catches me by surprise, and my face must have betrayed my surprise, given how Caterina laughs at me.

“Sweet, right?”

“I feel like I just ate something too pure for my tongue.” I chuckle softly. “Wow.”

“Exactly. These vineyards are tended with love so the grapes are delicious. So is the wine. But again, market competition is tough. Until Raffaele worked out just how loose customs can be on wine shipments.”

“How so?”

“When reputation and habit become known, people don’t look so closely. And if they do, then it’s easy to grease their palms. Raffaele sells his wine all around the world, and it’s the fastest way to move high-quality drugs throughout Europe. He caused quite a recreational drug boom here.”

“Drugs,” I repeat quietly. The word makes my chest squeeze and in a flash, the cold memories of that terrible room and Marie flood my mind. They’re halted by Caterina grasping my wrist and grounding me back in reality.

“I should tell you, Raffaele doesn’t deal in the drugs that were used on you or killed Marie. That isn’t his style, and it isn’t even in our production. I checked.”

“You checked?”

Caterina nods. “He made one thing clear to me. I was to take care of you against any threat, and the way he said it, it was as if he included himself in that. So I took him seriously and did a little digging just in case you thought there was a connection. What was used on you and your dear friend was black market shit. Raffaele’s stuff is all pure and he targets recreational users. In his words, he can’t make money if his clientele dies.”

“I feel like I should care more about the fact that he’s pumping illegal drugs around the world,” I murmur. “But that’s the world we live in. My hands aren’t clean either.”

“Your father,” Caterina muses. “What is it he does?”

“Construction to an extent, but he specializes in luxury vehicles and counterfeit luxury goods.”

“Ah, of course.” She nods with a wry smile. “I believe I fell for that once.”

“Really?”

“My dear expensive handbag was not so luxurious, I quickly learned.”

“Oh, no, I’m so sorry!” Laughter bubbles up, immediately lifting my spirits. “Would it make you feel better to know they’re high quality?”

Caterina wrinkles her nose. “No.”

“Unlucky.”

She breaks out into a smile and nudges into me. “It’s good to hear you laugh.”

Normally, my smile would vanish as guilt about Marie wells up, but being here holds it at bay for some reason. It’s like I truly am in a different world and everything that happened before I came here just doesn’t matter.

We continue to slowly walk through the vines, trading stories about childhood antics. Caterina comes from a big family, all of which live around the world doing so many different things that it’s hard to believe she chose to stay with Raffaele.

But then, maybe it’s not so surprising. His reputation for being a cold, calculated killer appears true, but after living with him for so long and experiencing his kindness after my attack, there’s another side to him.

A much more human side.

It shows itself once again as we walk toward the manor and Raffaele comes into view. He stands with one hand on his hip, his finger running along the waistband of his low-slung jeans. A white cotton shirt graces his shoulders, held together by just two buttons near his abdomen. The light breeze causes the fabric to billow and lift, showing off an array of his gorgeous golden muscles. A light dusting of dark hair coats his chest and a single bald spot near his ribs draws my eye.

A scar.

Interesting.

Without realizing it, my steps slow as we get closer and closer to Raffaele.

He looks… stunning.

Like some kind of bronze god has come from the heavens to taste the sweetness of the grapes. A far cry from the hard man dressed only in suits who existed back in the States. He’s like a completely different person.

He’s deep in conversation with a gardener who speaks animatedly about the health of the vine and the expected haul, as well as some issues they ran into at the winery. Raffaele seems engrossed and even offers his advice, which is even more surprising.

He’s not just some rich overlord. He seems to actually know about the vineyard and wine-making.

“See something you like?” Caterina jokes in a low voice.

My slowed steps have made her overtake and pass me, and she stands a few feet away with a knowing smile on her lips.

“No,” I say hurriedly, turning away from Raffaele as heat warms the tops of my ears.

“I’m not judging,” Caterina says. “He is your husband.”

“Sure, but…” I hesitate. He’s a terrible man. He killed my fiancé. And after what I went through, how can I even entertain thoughts of his glistening chest and thick arms? I look away from Caterina and speed up my walking pace away from Raffaele as if I can leave those thoughts behind with him.

Caterina says nothing else but she keeps a light smile on her lips for the rest of the morning.

Raffaele joins me for lunch, but before we can discuss anything, a call from someone takes his attention. He apologizes and hurries away. I glimpse him back in the vineyards helping with carrying baskets of grapes up and down the vines, hardly interesting work, but what holds my attention is that he does it shirtless.

I can’t blame him given the heat of the Italian sun, but the sight of his straining muscles, his sweat-gleaming skin, and the sexy way he stretches while wiping his forehead sends my thoughts into a sinful, dirty spiral.

Do I want him?

It’s just appreciation, it has to be. He’s an attractive man.

But he’s not important.

He’s just a stupidly sexy, golden-skinned, bright-eyed, muscular god with jeans hanging too low on his hips and miles of bare skin that I could explore with my tongue and teeth.

It’s the first time since the attack that I’ve even entertained the idea of being close to someone since Raffaele has been giving me space and privacy, even in the bedroom. The thought of being touched scared me previously, but out here, things feel different.

I watch him for hours, just admiring how bronzed he looks in the late afternoon sun. He helps people load the baskets into trucks, picks berries from the vines, and laughs along with the gardeners, sharing jokes and stories that I can’t hear.

Then it hits me.

I’ve never heard him laugh before. Not like that.

It’s a beautiful, honest sound that sends tingles through my entire body and alerts me to just how long I’ve been lounging in the sun, gawking at his beauty.

I spend the next few hours cooling off in the swimming pool, swimming until exhaustion tinges my muscles. I then erase all the sexy thoughts of Raffaele from my mind. I blame the heat of the sun and the change of scenery, which made everything feel sexier and more golden than normal.

Until dinner time.

Raffaele arrives wearing a black cotton shirt that sits open across his shoulders. The ends brush against his skin as he moves, and when he stretches across the table to pick up a bottle of wine, the light pants he wears hug his ass like a second skin.

My mouth runs dry.

With thousands of stars twinkling above, light music playing from a nearby stereo, and the subtle ambiance of Italian nightlife, it’s difficult to look anywhere but at him.

“Did you have a good day?” Raffaele asks as he pours me a glass of wine. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay for lunch.”

“It was nice. Caterina and I walked the vineyards and I went for a swim.”

After ogling you for a few hours.

“I heard,” Raffaele says softly. “What did you think?”

My cheeks instantly heat up when our eyes meet. “Of?”

“The vineyard?”

Oh.

Right.

“It’s pretty,” I say, my heart racing slightly. “I’ve never been surrounded by so much nature.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” The way he holds my gaze, he could be talking about me. Raffaele moves to the other end of the table, lighting the candles as he goes, and then he pours himself a glass of wine. “Taste it. This is homegrown. The best wine you will ever drink.”

Picking up my glass, I watch him over the rim as I take a sip. Sweet, tart red wine spills over my tongue and saliva floods my mouth, chasing the taste. “Wow.”

“Right?” He takes his seat and lifts his own glass, bringing it to his nose. “I don’t claim to be a snob with these things, but the work they do here makes me wish I could spend the rest of my days here.”

“Why don’t you?”

Raffaele chuckles. “Too much to do. Always too much to do.”

He sips his wine. My eyes fall to his sharp jaw and the bob of his throat as he swallows. A small bead of sweat trails down his neck and briefly kisses his collarbone before soaking into his shirt.

My mouth runs dry.

My own sundress sticks to me as a flush of aching want throbs through my body.

Then I’m on my feet.

Something takes over me that I can’t control.

I don’t want to control it.

I reach Raffaele in four steps and lift one leg over his knee. Then I slide into his lap and place one hand on his broad chest. His skin is burning to the touch and his heart beats powerfully under my palm.

“Adelina?” He arches one brow.

Our eyes meet. “Fuck me.”

The nightly sounds of nature are swallowed by the crash of Raffaele sending all the bottles and plates smashing to the floor as he sweeps the table clear with one arm and uses the other to toss me down on it.