Modern Romance February Books 1-4. Maisey Yates
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“It would be better if you were not coming with me, Gabriella,” he said, his tone full of warning.
She nodded slowly. “I have no doubt that’s true.”
“Doing what’s right is incredibly tiresome,” he said, walking deeper into the room, moving to sit in the chair across from hers. “And yet, it is the only thing that separates us from our parents, is it not?”
She nodded mutely.
“And I have to separate myself from them,” he continued, his voice rough.
“You have,” she said. “You’re nothing like them at all.”
“I have a half brother,” he said, the words hitting her in a strange way, taking a moment for her to untangle. It seemed like a change of subject, and yet she knew it wasn’t. Not really. “I found out about it when I was eleven years old. My father had an affair, as I told you before.”
“My parents have had many,” she said slowly.
“Affairs were nothing new,” he continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “But a child... My mother was incensed. He was humiliating her. Bringing shame upon her. Causing the world to believe she might not be desirable.”
Gabriella tried to force a smile. “My mother screams a very similar refrain once every few months.”
“This was different,” Alex said. “I heard the altercation. It was Christmas. Snowing. Outside, the house had white lights strung all over it. As though they were trying to tell the world that we were normal. That we were a happy household. But inside... There were no lights. There was no tree. There was no happiness. And out there... My father’s mistress brought her son. He was not much younger than I was. Ten, maybe. She stood out there screaming at my father, their son by her side. Telling him that he had to acknowledge him. My father refused. I...I looked out there and I saw him. And I knew exactly who he was. I told no one. My father drove off in a rage, my mother with him, as they tried to escape the scene. Tried to get away from his mistress. This monster of his own making. That was the night they were in the accident. It was the night they died. And the only people left alive who knew about Nate were his mother, himself and me. I told no one. I kept my half brother a secret.”
“Oh, Alex, what a terrible burden.”
“What a terrible burden I put on him. A child. But I was so angry, Gabby. I blamed him. He was what they were arguing about. And so... I chose comfort over truth. I chose to do what was easy, not what was right. Had I been any sort of man...”
“You weren’t,” she said, her chest tight. “You were a boy.”
He shook his head, lowering it. “Not so much a boy.” He looked younger when he said it. She felt like she could see him, as he’d been then. Young and trying so hard to be brave. To uphold the honor of his family in the only way he knew how.
“Yes,” she said, her throat aching. “You were.”
“He was entitled to that money. To come to the funeral of his father. To be acknowledged. I robbed him of that. Until we needed him. When my grandfather needed a bone marrow transplant I let everyone know about Nate’s existence. He was Giovanni’s only hope, you see. I...I cannot forgive myself for those things, Gabby. I cannot. They reveal that underneath everything I have tried to fashion for myself I am nothing more than my father’s son. A man who uses people. A man who thinks nothing of putting others through hell in order to preserve his own comfort.”
“That isn’t true, Alex.”
He curled his hand into a fist. “Yes, it is. There’s a reason I’m telling you this.”
“What’s the reason?”
“Because I need you to understand. I need you to understand that I’m not a saint. That while I make a habit of practicing restraint, in the end I will only fail. In the end, I will reveal myself to be nothing more than what my blood has dictated I should be.”
“We’re more than blood, Alex, don’t you think?”
“Are we?”
“You said yourself your grandfather took care of you. Your father is his son.”
“In which case I have to ask myself if it was my mother. If some people are destined to drag down those who they love. Just another reason to stay away from me.”
Her heart thundered, and she felt dizzy. He was so convinced he was toxic. And that was why they couldn’t... She wasn’t even entirely sure what they couldn’t. Knew only that he was saying they couldn’t, and she knew whatever it was that she wanted to. “But what about what I want?”
“You don’t know what you want.”
She blinked. “Of course I do. I’m a grown woman, Alessandro. You don’t know what I want more than I do.”
He got out of the chair, dropping to his knees so that he was down in front of her. He lifted his hand, brushing his thumb over her lower lip. He looked raw. Desperate. And she had to close her eyes, all of her focus going to that slow, sensual touch. “Gabriella, I have seen so much more of the world than you have. Believe me when I tell you that I know what you should want. What will keep you safe.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head.
“It cannot happen,” he said, and she wasn’t sure if he was telling her or himself. “I cannot kiss you again,” he continued. “If I did, I would only sin greater.”
She opened her eyes, looked down at him. At the creases on his forehead, the deep grooves that bracketed his face. Those lines made him all the more devastating. Without them, he would be too beautiful. But those lines—the evidence of years lived—gave him texture. Took him from mere beauty to devastating.
She ached. For him. With need for him. “All sins can be forgiven, can’t they?”
“Not all, Gabby. My life—my childhood—is a testament to that. Some sins cause damage that is irreparable. That wound so deeply they will never heal. Ask my half brother about that. I would tell you to ask my parents, to ask my mother, but she’s dead.”
“But, Alex... If we both want each other...”
“You don’t even know what it means to want, Gabriella.”
Her chest felt tight, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. “That isn’t fair, Alex, you don’t get to tell me that I don’t know what desire is when you’re the one who showed it to me. When you’re the one who made absolutely certain that I learned what it was.”
“I have already hurt you.” He shook his head, his tone filled with regret. “I would not like to do it again.”
“Then don’t.” She was on the verge of begging for something she had never imagined wanting with this much ferocity.
“I won’t.”
“Must you be so honorable? Must you choose this moment to be a man of your word? To be sincere?”
He nodded slowly. “If