Bloody City: Temptations

Chapter Ten

Arianna

I hadn't seen Alessio almost all day except for the few times he stepped out of his office to make coffee which he had numerous cups of by four in the afternoon. In that time I'd found a spot in the middle of his elegant living room where I had been sitting and sketching an image of the room for the past few hours attempting to get every detail, its black marble chiseled fireplace and well crafted shelves along with the teardrop chandelier that was made along a bar. The large glass windows of the living room however were blank on my page as I'd never been good at adding other things in distance for my art, so I'd been focusing on the architectural elements. The blend of modern and classic architecture made Alessio's home to feel warm and welcoming. Even the man himself was like that he was vested in his Familia's traditions while also being able to accept the new in the place of old to adapt his own reign from the old ways to new.

He was still reigned in and though he always seemed on the verge of giving in to ever feverish desire he held himself back. I'd expected nothing less the man was a killer and the Don of his family. He'd been both what I had expected and what I hadn't. He was cold, and barely said anything, he was demanding, and a control freak, but he also was sincere, and patient, he didn't try to be anything he wasn't. The biggest thing I'd never thought possible was that he had been considerate of how our marriage would work.

I couldn't see him changing who he was, I didn't even expect it of Alessio, I didn't expect him to be present in this house very often either he was the most powerful Mafioso in Cosa Nostra after all. I'd always wondered about his other name though, the Angel of Death, Azrael.

"Have you always been so talented at art?" a voice like silk and bourbon said from behind me and I didn't even have to turn to know he stood in the nearby doorway.

"No, I just picked the habit up to pass time as a little girl. I wasn't allowed the freedoms of other girl's in the Familia's," I say setting down the sketchbook and turning to see Alessio stripped of his jacket that now hung over his arm as he stood there watching me with eyes like that of a hawk, predatory and sharp like a knife.

Not that I could look away he belonged in a fashion magazine.

"No one was allowed freedoms before the treaty my Father created, though you may have freedoms here you have never had, I don't require you to stay inside with me Arianna. You're not a prisoner," he says moving from the doorframe to walk around the light grey sofa and stopped near where I sat.

Since Matteo had left this morning he'd not said a single word to me, yet now he was actively going through some kind of bipolar behaviour shift because he'd never said that. He'd mentioned I was bound to him but not trapped though he'd never given me open exploration privilege outside of the house. Even if we'd agreed to communicate time frames.

"Who said I felt like a prisoner?" I retort standing though my head came to his chin, and I silently cursed him for being eight inches taller than myself.

He was quiet an unusual spectacle in relation to Alessio who always had words to say in response to any remark.

"Your body language, trapped people fight for freedom. And I don't wish for you to feel trapped, I've seen enough woman be trapped in marriages that they despise with men that treat them poorly," Alessio states an expression like frosted iron fixed on his face as if he hid the past with stoicism and bitter violence. "I've seen how the traditions effect some marriages, and I intend to hold my part of this. I will protect you, and be loyal to you, even if you come to hate me one day".

The genuine compassion in his voice pricked at the strings of my heart but I wasn't going to give in to the emotions his closeness and words conjured in me. He'd said this wouldn't be a union of love.