Original Sins by Faith Summers

28

Georgiou

Ilook across at Henry and note how fast he’s tapping away at the keyboard on his laptop.

I’m sitting on the sofa looking at the wall, and I’m instantly reminded of the way we were in college. This could be us ten years ago.

He’d get lost in his work whenever we had a problem, and I’d do this or fuck some poor girl who thought it was a good idea to throw herself at me.

I sip on my bottle of wine and try to think past the shit, but I have the same problem.

The shit keeps coming back to screw with me.

I thought I’d feel better after sending the money off to Evie’s account this morning, but I didn’t.

I felt worse like it was really over.

She’d get it and know that the early payment meant the end of us.

When I told Henry, all he did was nod and offer to give me his half. I declined it, insisting I pay. Of the two of us, I was the angriest. He at least took the time to consider why Evie did what she did.

What pissed me off the most was what I said to him. She knew us.

Whenever I’d been to her house even before Henry started coming with me, I felt her eyes on me—always watching from that window.

That means she would have been doing so long before her mother died.

Before I started going to Donny’s house by myself, my father used to take me. I was seventeen when he first starting taking me.

Fuck.

I don’t even want to think about how old Evie was then.

I’m twelve years older than her.

Twelve fucking years.

I take another swig of my drink and lift my head when I hear the front door open.

We have staff coming in and out all the time, but I already know who’s where in the house.

Our two maids are upstairs, the chef in the kitchen, John, isn’t here and won’t be back until tonight because he’s running an errand for me upstate and the guards don’t come inside unless there’s something wrong.

I stand, and Henry lifts his head, taking a break from whatever the fuck he’s doing.

“Who is that?” he mutters.

“No idea.”

Footsteps sound now, light and careful. Then I see Evie, and I have to wonder if I conjured her up from my mind.

Evie stands by the doorway dressed in a little summer dress. Her hands come together, shaking but what I’m paying attention to is her tear-stained face and red blotchy, puffy eyes.

In my periphery, I can see Henry staring back at her too.

She looks from him to me then keeps her gaze on me.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and as much as I want to be mad as fuck and continue my rage at what she did, I can’t do it.

This woman has me soft on her, and even now, with the shit of what could happen if our secret gets out, I still want her.

She’s said two words, and I want her. I want it to be last week when I would walk over to her and kiss her. I want it to be last week when I would take her up against that very door she’s standing by. I want it to be last week when my ignorance of the truth was bliss.

But, I know even as I stand here wanting her, I can’t have her.

“I’m so sorry for what I did,” she mutters.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. You should go home, Evie. You can’t be seen here.”

“I had to come and explain what happened, and I can’t accept the money.” Tears run down her cheeks, and I have to resist the urge to walk over to her and wipe them away.

Henry glances at me, then back at her.

“It’s right that we pay you,” he says. “Obviously, you needed the money for something big, so you should have it.”

I can tell from his tone that he’s as angry as I am. It was just when he was with me that he was trying to reason out what might have caused her to do what she did.

“If I take it, then all I am is a whore, and you’ll think that our time together wasn’t real when it was for me.”

It was real for me too.

All I can do is stare back at her because, for the first time in my life, I don’t know what the fuck to do.

“I signed up for the auction because I needed the money to escape,” she explains. “My father told me I had to marry Peter and I couldn’t do it. I hate him with everything inside me, and even if I didn’t hate him, in my heart, I believe he had something to do with my brother’s murder.”

A knot twists in my stomach. “What are you saying to me?”

“Not a lot of people know that my brother died in my arms or that I saw what happened and who killed him.”

I cut Henry a look as he stands up too.

“You saw his killer?” Henry asks.

“No one can find the man I’ve described a million times over.”

I wasn’t aware of any of that, but it explains why Donny is so protective of her. He was always like that anyway, but when he lost his son, he realized he wasn’t as invincible as he thought.

Hearing Peter could have been responsible for Dante’s death makes sense.

That’s how you get to an untouchable man like Donatello Ricci. You get him to trust you first, then strike when he’s not looking.

“I think Dante was only where he was because he was supposed to meet Peter there. I’ve never had any proof, just what my heart tells me, which is, Peter, set things up to lure my brother into a trap.” She dabs at her eyes with the heel of her hands. “So I couldn’t marry him, and when I thought about the reality of how my father operates, I realized that even if he didn’t choose Peter, he would marry me off to one of his other men who are just the same. I don’t want my life to be like that. I don’t want to be treated like a thing, and worse of all, I don’t want to marry someone I don’t love. I was going to leave next week and disappear.”

She’s saying that and still wants to give back the money.

I understand her. It doesn’t make it right, but I get it, so I step forward and walk up to her.

Her beautiful eyes take me in with more emotion than I’ve ever seen in anyone.

“Things aren’t what they seem with your father and Peter. You won’t have to worry about him for much longer, but I’ll let your father explain that part to you when the time comes.” She should know that so she doesn’t have to worry herself.

“What do you mean? What’s happening?”

“There isn’t going to be a wedding, At least not with Peter. I still want you to take the money and do what you need to if the time comes and you feel trapped. Maybe it won’t come to that, and your father will choose someone you’ll grow to love.” I don’t recognize the guy talking who sounds like me.

It’s even worse when I fucking realize that I sound like myself two years ago when I said virtually the same thing to Priscilla when I decided I had to let her go.

I never thought I’d have to do the same thing in this lifetime or that it would feel so much worse the second time around.

Evie shakes her head. “How can I grow to love someone when I love you.”

A tendril of shock seizes my chest, making my heart stop, and when it starts beating, it does so double time.

I never expected her to say that. It’s something different from what happened to me with Priscilla.

She looks at me for a beat, and I know the love she speaks of didn’t come to fruition over the last three weeks. What she’s talking about is older. It’s from her watching me from her bedroom window, seeing me when I never saw her.

She looks at Henry, and I can imagine he must think she felt more for me than him, but I know differently.

“And I love you too, Henry,” she tells him, and his features soften. “I can’t explain that. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to, but that’s how I feel. I know I won’t feel like this ever again.”

She returns her focus to me, and I wish I could return the sentiment.

This is where I have to think about the consequences and not be the rebel.

Usually, if I want a woman, I take her, but I know when something is off-limits to me.

That’s what she is.

She was right about her father marrying her off to someone else.

He will.

Even with Peter out of the fucking picture, Donny will have a replacement from his lineup of suitors ready to fill the spot. He’ll have some government official or some royal bastard from somewhere. Or someone from one of the more powerful crime families with aristocratic ties. That is the power of Donatello Ricci.

Fuck knows how he ended up selecting Peter, but he will pick who he wants, and it won’t be Henry or me.

I’ll be dancing on thin ice if I entertain anything with her. If me and mine were ever in the cards, I would have known about it well before now.

Right now, I know what would fucking happen if Donny found out about us. I can’t let that happen.

“Evie, we can’t go there. Neither of us can. What could happen if your father even finds out about the auction is bigger than the three of us.” Donny would kill me if he knew I bought his daughter in an auction so I could take her virginity, share her with my best friend, and make her a personal fuck toy for a month. There’s no question about how enraged as fuck the man would be. While I don’t fear for my life, there are people who rely on me to try not to fuck things up. “I can’t take that risk. You can’t come back here, and it’s best you don’t have anything to do with us.” I say, and once again, I don’t recognize myself.

I saw the way Peter looked at me at the engagement party. The shit’s about to hit the fan for him, and we’re about to deliver the stinging blow.

I would be a fool not to see him as a threat, and he wouldn’t have to dig that deep to find out how my relationship started with Donny’s daughter.

“You hear me, Evie?”

She nods, but her hands tremble.

One last look at each of us and one more tear, then she turns and walks away.

I watch her go, and I feel something I’ve never felt before.

Weakness.

I feel weak. Weakness is not a word associated with Georgiou Giordano, but I made myself weak just now when I decided I wasn’t going to fight for the woman I want.

I look at Henry and know he feels the same way. Neither one of us can say anything because we’ve said everything there is to say. Knowing the truth might enable us to take the blow a little easier, but that’s all.

Our truth is we both stand to lose everything. That’s our truth and reality.

However, watching Evie walk out of our lives feels like that’s exactly what happened—or what’s happening.

Losing her feels like I have already lost everything.

It’s really over, and I never told her that I love her too.