We clearly were on the same team. You killed over a dozen of the bastards and I wasn’t about to reward you by killing you. They deserved it.
Her wild imagination immediately interpreted his statement as him claiming her, making her his, letting her know no matter what, he would stand for her.
Just like the movements in a symphony, the rain sent vibrations through his body, painting the world in a physical map of mountains, valleys and high peaks dropping into deep ravines. The physical structures were all created by sound itself, and the colors were intense and vivid – substance created by sound, by feeling.
She felt Stefano’s body sitting next to her, yet he seemed to take up the room, surrounding her, in front of her, at her back. He was everywhere. Dangerous. Determined. Giving her a feeling of security. How he managed that she didn’t know.
She loved to see that smile, the way it transformed his face from rugged, dangerous, very masculine beauty to something much softer and approachable.
You’re safe with me, Blythe,” he whispered. “I swear to you, I’m only yours. For good or bad, I’m with you.
You. Your soul. What’s inside you. You shine from the inside out. Your so bright, Blythe. I get close to you and the darkness just recedes. The world I live in slips further away, and I can see there’s hope. You’re that hope. Not just for me but for all of us.
She wasn’t asking his permission either. He wasn’t in charge. She’d made that clear more than once. Shylah was an independent thinker, was used to working alone.
Fear wasn’t the problem, she could deal with nerves, it was the excitement welling up in her that frightened her most. The unfamiliar emotion was too strong. Too needy. Too everything she was unprepared to deal with.
I’d like you to make an effort to share what you’re feeling, good or bad, with me. I’ll do the same. If we’re honest with each other in our communication this will work for us.
She wanted a family. She loved that the Ferraros were so tight-knit, but she barely knew them. She didn’t even really know what Stefano did for a living. There was just a little bit of fear when she was around them all. Power clung to them. They were their wealth so easily, like a second skin. More than that, they were a cloak of pure danger. When any of the Ferraros walked into a room, there was stunned silence- a collective gasp from any other occupants of the room.
He preferred smaller knives, but when you wanted to make a statement, you did it big. He wanted this man cowed and willing to talk.
Two F-bombs in under a second. He was more than furious. She had no choice but to lift her chin, but she kept her eyes childishly shut tight, afraid if she looked at him, she’d be lost.
There it was, again, that hurt in his eyes. Maybe hurt. Something. Sadness. That was it. She detested that look. He shouldn’t ever feel unhappy. It was more than unhappy. Desolate, as if he was completely alone and she’d taken his last joy from him.
Say yes, Francesca. I didn’t think it was possible to feel anything real for a woman. I just couldn’t. I tried, but nothing was there. I knew I was capable of loving because I love my sister and brothers fiercely. With everything in me. But what a man feels for a woman, ‘the’ woman, eluded me until you. Until I saw you.
A part of him felt she would always have been a mystery to him, elusive and enigmatic, but at the same time, she was comfortable as if they had been together for years.
He had thought to hold a part of himself back until she made up her mind. Getting his heart broken wasn’t on his list of things he wanted to experience. But the effect of her welcoming smile told him it was too late. He’d already fallen.
He was the devil, but she didn’t care. On some level she even knew he was using her own body against her, pitting her innocence against his experience, but she didn’t care about that, either. She wanted to leap into the fire with both feet, arms wide, eyes open. She knew his world might be something she would have a difficult time accepting, but he was worth it.
Staying strong for our people. Staying strong to keep the demon inside. Staying strong for her. Only her.” Those last two words of his code- his vow- said everything. Every wound he had suffered in battle, every time he had to kill an old friend or relative, every night he’d risen and endured the gray void, was for her.
You don’t do violence, Francesca, not unless it’s self-defense or in defense of our family. I won’t have that on your soul. You’re going to be my wife. The mother of my children. You’re about love and softness. Not killing. Never that.