To Have & to Hurt by Morgan Bridges

Violetta

I’m dressed as though I’m going to prom.

Or a date…

The cynical part of my brain scoffs at the turquoise-colored evening gown with its empire waist, square neckline, and the matching high heels. However, the woman in me can’t believe how grown up I look dressed like this. My face and body haven’t changed physically, but I have on the inside. Maybe it’s the perceptiveness in my gaze which makes me appear older than eighteen. Whatever the case, having to wear this outfit is unexpected.

And I doubt it’s for my birthday because no one knows about it.

I apply another layer of mascara to help lengthen my lashes as I mull over this day and what it means for me.

Or should’ve meant.

Since puberty, perhaps even earlier, I’ve always known what my father’s plans were for Carina and me. It was to be a lifelong sentence of being shackled to a criminal, regardless of his character or his treatment of women. I always assumed my eighteenth birthday would be the worst of them all, not that any were actually celebrated, but here I am, free and far removed from my father’s evil intentions.

All due to my sister’s courage.

I want to honor her by enjoying this day, yet I find that I’m quite melancholy. Not for the same reasons as before, which is obviously a tremendous relief. In actuality, it’s because I want to acknowledge this major milestone with someone who cares about me. Tristano comes to mind, on account of him never leaving it.

After many failed attempts to remove him from my daily thoughts, I’ve given up.

He doesn’t have tender feelings for me and why would he? Tristano is twice my age and has a wealth of knowledge and money, not to mention he’s had the opportunity to live. To truly explore life and do things that make him happy.

I want to do that more than anything.

Maybe having those types of experiences would help me to mature. Tristano deserves a woman who’s his equal and when I try to picture us a couple I can’t. Next to him I’d be like a kid sister, someone he protects.

Not someone he fucks.

I get to my feet slowly, not wanting to tip over and injure myself, and then do one last check in the mirror. I remind myself what I think about me is all that matters, and right now I look pretty. However, inside me there’s a girl who’d love nothing more than to be treated like the woman she is on the outside. Images of Tristano touching and kissing me have my body heating up and a warmth spreads over my cheeks. Then it heads south.

Damn it, now my panties are damp.

The knock on the door nearly makes me shriek. “Violetta, it’s time.”

I open my mouth to call out to Tristano and the normalcy of that stuns me, but also stops me. Talking to him is becoming second nature to me and I’m beginning to like it. People generally take speaking for granted, and even though I’ve had the ability all along, I couldn’t at times. Never mind the fact I had no one to listen to me.

Tristano opens the door and strides into the room like he owns the place. Then he abruptly halts, his gaze roving over my body like he owns that as well. I suppress the delicious shiver that tries to slide down my spine.

“You look…” He shakes his head and exhales. “I’ve never seen a woman more beautiful.”

My already flushed cheeks now burn with both embarrassment and gratification. His compliment means so much to me, possibly more than I’m even aware of. Or want to acknowledge.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

His metallic-colored eyes are lustrous with appreciation and there’s something else, something I’ve never seen before. I try to discern what exactly, but he interrupts my perusal by lifting his arm for me to take.

“Come here.”

My body is already in motion, eager to fulfill his command before I’ve had a chance to properly think about it. I wind my arm through his and he tucks it to his side, bringing me close. Then he covers my hand with his.

“Trust me, ribelle.”

That direct order gives me pause. I lift my gaze to meet his and find that formerly unidentified emotion still present. It’s recognizable now that I’m near him and it’s not just in his eyes. A fierce need thrums through his body and rolls off him and onto me in waves.

Tristano yearns for something. But what?

I nod my acquiescence. There’s definitely trust between us and I can give him that tonight. I’m just not sure if I can give it to him completely.

Because that would mean giving him all of me.

He turns inward, now even closer, and uses his free hand to take my chin captive. “I want you to say it.”

My face scrunches in confusion as I stare up at him. “Why?”

His eyes are hard and no longer clear. He’s thrown up a shield I can’t see through or penetrate. “Give me this one thing,” he says.

My mind instantly rebels, but my heart… It recognizes he wants me to give this to him, to offer it willingly. Tristano isn’t asking, but he’s not taking either. He simply desires my compliance in this instance.

“I trust you,” I say.

“Remember that.”

* * *

There are so many things I want to say, questions I want to ask Tristano, but with Beni and the driver present, I hold off. Instead of letting my anticipation build to the point of implosion, I stare out the car window and take in the various sights.

Colorful buildings of all shapes and sizes finally come into view after miles and miles of dense forest. We haven’t returned to the capital, but I’m not sure where we are now. Regardless of our location, this place is lovely, especially at night.

Nothing holds my attention like Tristano though.

Throughout the drive I sneak glances at him, not only to get a sense of where his head is, but to simply look at him as well. My attraction toward him has only grown and seeing him so finely dressed doesn’t hurt either. His black slacks, matching shoes, and blood red dress shirt make him look every inch the renowned but distinguished criminal mastermind he is. And not as though he’s going to prom, because then he’d be wearing a tuxedo.

The image of Tristano acting like a typical young man, arriving at the girl’s house to pick her up and placing a corsage on her wrist, is downright laughable. Even when he was a teenager, I bet Tristano was the same way he is now.

Commanding. Confident. Concise.

I picture him striding through the front door, curtly nodding to the girls’ parents before taking her hand and leading her outside. No pomp and circumstance. No frivolous things such as flowers and posing for photos. And definitely no dancing.

Although, given his physique and the way he moves, I highly suspect he’d be amazing at it.

My fabricated scenario brings a smile to my face. Tristano is solid, unapologetic, and immovable. All of these things make him reliable and safe, in my opinion. There’s no hidden agenda, no game, and you always know where you stand with him because he has no problem telling you.

I admire these personality traits and wouldn’t change him for anything.

The driver pulls off the main road and onto another which leads up a mountain, the vehicle climbing it in a gradually ascending loop. Once we stop Tristano peers outside before exiting, and then he’s on my side, opening my door and offering me his hand. I take it, the warmth and strength transferring from him to me. Beni gets out of the car as well and follows us at a distance, his gaze darting back and forth, always alert.

I stare up at the enormous, modern building resembling a tiki hut, nestled in the midst of a jungle. The numerous lights from inside the windows at the south end spill onto the sidewalk and illuminate the staircase, as well as the emerald-colored lawn. This place appears to be an exclusive yet luxurious resort, but the surrounding foliage gives it an air of enchantment.

Tristano assists me up the stairs with me clutching my dress in my other hand. I’m not sure who we’re here to meet, but from the looks of things they’re important and I’m glad Tristano decided to bring me along. I’ve never been out of the country, let alone anywhere like this.

Once we’re at the top, a large stone patio set under a pillared awning comes into view. Thousands of fairy lights have been strung everywhere. They wrap around every column, any of the overhanging branches nearby, and along the ceiling, casting a glow on the dining table in the middle of the floor. The places have already been set with dishes, silverware, and water-filled bowls that have roses floating on the surface. Their perfume reaches me even from several feet away.

Before we come to a complete stop, a man wearing a tuxedo steps from inside to join us on the patio. He must be the person Tristano is here to speak to.

“Everything is in order?” Tristano asks.

“Sí, señor.” The man wrings his hands but not in fear. He’s eager to please by doing Tristano’s bidding, so he’s obviously not who we’re looking for. “What do you think?” he asks. “Is everything as you requested?”

Tristano does a quick sweep of the area. “Yes. And the musicians?”

“Available as soon as you’d like, señor.”

Beni walks the perimeter of the patio and then heads back the way we came, disappearing from sight. I’d frown at that, but Tristano gently tugs my arm and I swing my attention to him. The stranger gestures for us to approach the table and I look to Tristano for guidance, but he’s already staring at me.

“What do you think?” he asks softly.

I shake my head and he frowns. “I don’t know,” I say. “It’s…gorgeous. But I don’t understand what all this is for.”

The disgruntled expression on his face lifts, the creases at the corners of his eyes disappearing. “It’s not for what but for who. This person is very special.”

My stomach ties into a knot at hearing him speak warmly about someone else so easily. If it’s a woman, who turns out to not be his sister like Octavia, I’m not sure how I’ll get through the evening with my smile intact.

“That’s what I thought.” I quickly scan the area with my gaze and return it to his. “Are they here?”

He nods. The silver in his eyes grows iridescent and that strange glint returns. I press my lips and wait, unsure of what else to do. When he leans down and places his mouth by my ear, I close my eyes in bliss, soaking in his nearness.

“All of this is for you, ribelle,” he whispers.

My eyes fly open and I blink up at him as he straightens. “What?” I glance around as though I didn’t just look at all of this ten seconds ago. The beautiful atmosphere complete with decorations is all for me? I don’t understand.

“Why?” I ask.

Tristano’s mouth tilts up on one side at my bewildered state. “It’s your birthday.”

He says that simply, like it’s obvious. And I suppose it is, but I’m too stunned to make sense of it all. How did he find out? And even with him knowing, why would he bother?

“You don’t celebrate it?” Tristano asks, his brows gathering. I shake my head in answer and his perplexed expression deepens, lines forming around his mouth. “Why?”

I drop my gaze to stare at the ground and use it to trace the hem of my dress. “There are a couple reasons…”

“Which are?”

“I don’t want to ruin anything by talking about my childhood.”

Tristano clicks his tongue at me in admonishment. “We are all products of our past experiences. Disregarding those things would be ignoring the reasons why you’re the woman standing before me now. A woman I respect and admire.”

“Really?” I mumble, my doubt leaking onto the word. I probably sound more like a petulant teenager instead of the woman he’s describing, but it’s hard to believe him.

He raises my head by placing a single finger under my chin and lifting it. “Absolutely.” Unlike my response, his is unwavering and full of certainty.

His behavior confuses me, wrecks me, and ignites me all at once.

Tristano has shown me the different facets of his personality, beginning with the cold-hearted man who judged my sister’s actions and didn’t hesitate to put the rightful blame at her feet, despite her remorse. Then that same man enveloped her in a hug and comforted her.

Now I’m getting a glimpse of another side of him, one I suspect is rarely seen by anyone. I don’t think this thoughtfulness is uncharacteristic of him, it’s more that I’ve not had a chance to witness it. And now that I am?

I’m in danger of revealing a facet of myself, a private one I’ve never shown anyone. Not even Carina.

And it’s the part of me that dreams of being in love.

“Thank you,” I whisper, battling the emotions rising in my throat. “I respect and admire you as well. And Beni too. I think his good intentions are hidden under all the outrageous things he says.”

A small laugh escapes me and his eyes widen with surprise. Right before they darken. His gaze is now similar to an eclipse, blocking out the tenderness that was shining on me seconds ago. The swift change silences my amusement and I hurry to make amends.

“I didn’t mean to be insulting.” I clutch his wrist and squeeze it to emphasize my sincerity, as well as my regret. “For me to have a positive opinion of a man is absurd and the irony of that is what amused me. You are the only one I’ve ever considered to be honorable, despite your high-handed methods, and Beni is…well, Beni.”

Tristano’s gaze resembles shards of ice and I inwardly cringe. How I managed to ruin one of the best moments in my life is beyond me, but I’ll do whatever I can to melt the frost in his eyes.

Because when he looks at me like that I die a little inside.

Almost desperate to bring back the ambience from before, when Tristano was in a pleasant mood, I release his wrist and take a step toward him. The space between us is barely there and I reduce it even more as I take his face in both my hands.

Touching him is too irresistible for me to abstain from.

I brush my thumbs up and down along the smooth expanse of his jaw and he relaxes in my hold, the muscles along his mouth less tight and his expression less severe. I take a deep, preparatory breath to offer my apology and my breasts press into his chest, my nipples instantly hardening. The sexual tension between us grows with each passing day, hour, and possibly every minute, so my body’s response doesn’t shock me.

What does surprise me is the feeling of longing that bursts from my soul; not just to be with him but to connect.

Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.

I want it all.

If there was ever a birthday present to wish for, that would be it.

“You’d think I’d be able to say the right thing after being silent for years,” I say with a small shake of my head. “It’s disappointing, but please don’t let my errant and inarticulate words ruin tonight. What you’ve done for me is nothing short of…” I purse my lips in thought, nearly speechless and grasping for the right thing to say that’ll really show what all this means to me. “I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am, Tristano.”

The muscles flush against me lose some of their rigidity and I mentally sigh in relief.

“I understand, and you don’t have to apologize,” he says. “It was a simple misunderstanding and nothing more.”

I smile up at him and let my hands fall away. He holds out his arm and I’m quick to wrap mine around it.

Maybe I have a chance of salvaging this birthday.

And it’s likely to be the most memorable, with a man who’s definitely unforgettable.