For four days, I bugged Marco nonstop to persuade Elio to take me along with himself to Paris. At first, he was unyielding, but on the second day, he was willing to give it a shot. 

Last night, he informed me they reached a common ground. If I want to join them, I must learn basic self-defense.

It's a mystery how on Earth I'll ever be able to fight off a bulky mafioso, but whatever lets me tag along with them, works for me.

I descend the stairs alongside Marco.

"Just don'ta get hangry, we decided ita was best forr you like theesa," Marco repeats himself for the hundredth time.

"Even if I get angry, it's not like I'll be able to break your boss's nose in our practice session."

We reach the floor and he leads me in the opposite direction of the entrance door. Landscape paintings hang on the walls, red rugs on the floor, and countless doors are on either side of the hallway.

He stops in front of an iron double door. "See you laterra." He spins and runs off.

I watch him with increasing confusion before shaking my head and opening the door. It creaks as I widen it and enter the room.

The walls are graphite-colored, and every few feet, fluorescent lights are attached to the ceiling, illuminating the area with harsh white light. Various bodybuilding equipment are situated on the left side. On my right, three cubicles are positioned across a wall. Of course, a mafioso would have a shooting range built inside his house.

Elio walks out of a door across from me. His brows jump as he starts with surprise, "You're here." He approaches me, gun in hand.

I frown with confusion. "Was I not supposed to be?"

He shrugs. "I thought you wouldn't agree."

Squinting, I fold my arms and tap my foot on the floor. "I had to. Even though this wasn't a part of our deal."

A deep exhale rushes out of his parted lips as he strides toward me, holding out the pistol.

I retreat a step and eye him suspiciously. "What are you doing?"

He cocks his head to one side, drawing his brows together before cursing under his breath. "Marco didn't tell you," he concludes.

"Tell me what?" The second my question leaves my mouth, realization clicks in my mind.

These fuckers.

I shake my head and retreat another step; holding out my index finger, I sternly declare, "No."

Elio spins the pistol from the trigger guard. "What else did you expect?" he asks, amusement twinkling in his chestnut eyes.

"You want me to kill people!" I throw my hands up. "Have you lost your mind!"

"You'll learn how to aim and fire. You don't have to kill. In fact, if you perfect your aim, you can disarm the person who wants to harm you, or even injure them to slow them down until either I or my men reach you."

I stomp to him, jabbing my index finger at him, prepared to spit out a few special profanities, but he adds, "It's not up for negotiation. Either you learn, or you stay here until I sort out everything."

"You're-" I rage, but he cuts me off.

"The boss, I know. That's why you can only choose from the options I give you and not create one for yourself."

"You fucking asshole!"

He smiles at me instead. "What do you say, tesorino? If you ask me, I'd suggest you return to your room and save our sanity."

I silently fume at him, balling my hands at my sides. "I hate you."

The corners of his mouth twitch upwards. "I know."

I close my eyes and inhale deeply. I shouldn't allow him to get under my skin so easily. For fuck's sake, I've been professionally trained to remain calm and argue my case. I tighten my hair tie atop my head. "Okay, let's start."

He blinks a few times. "You're not leaving?"

With a smug smile, I reply, "Do I look like I'm leaving?"

"Wow," he breathes out. A ghost of a smile appears on his full lips. "I thought you'd storm off and pester me for the two weeks to have your way and eventually give in."

I lift a shoulder nonchalantly. "You're welcome. I'm saving our time and energy."

"That's unexpected," he muses, his dark eyes searching my face curiously while his smile lingers.

"You know you're still in my kicking range, right?"

He throws his head back, guffawing. "It's cute you considered that," he says after quieting down.

I roll my eyes as he leads me to the central cubicle.

"The firearms you'll be handling will probably be loaded, but it never hurts to be prepared," Elio begins as he pulls out the magazine of the pistol, explains how to load it, and goes over every detail, repeating everything over three times. Though I don't express my annoyance.

Elio also plays out each movement at least three times, before letting me try out the steps.

Once he's assured I've learned the basics, he shows me how to aim, before planting himself behind me and handing me the gun.

"Don't flinch when you fire. The first and most important thing for you is to get used to the sound."

I nod, weighing the handgun as I reluctantly wrap my fingers around the grip.

His palm rests on my shoulder while his other hand reaches mine and furls over my fingers, tightening my grip.

My stupid brain gets distracted by the tingling feeling his warm touch causes.

Elio brings his face right next to mine. "Hold firmly," he speaks, his voice dropping an octave and ruining the rhythmic beating of my heart. "When you pull the trigger, it sends off a wave of shock, and if you're not gripping tightly, you'll miss your shot."

Unable to speak, I nod.

He guides my arm, never moving his hand from atop mine as he points the gun at the target. His other hand slowly drifts to my shoulder blade, running the pad of his thumb up and down. "Relax your body, tesorino, you don't want to hurt yourself when you shoot," he murmurs next to my ear.

My breath hitches as his warm breath fans my ear, electrifying my senses; my body hyper-aware of our proximity. It takes a ridiculous amount of effort not to lean into him.

His warm hand glides down my bare arm, burning me inside out. My heart races as he places my other hand underneath the grip, securing the gun in my grasp. "Now focus on the target."

The task is easier said than done. Having him so close makes it impossible to focus on anything. I blink multiple times to gather my bearings.

"Never put your finger on the trigger unless you're ready to fire," he adds.

I can't tell if he's speaking huskily on purpose or if my mind is playing tricks on me.

Either way, I breathe in deeply and put my entire willpower into fixing my attention on the target placed twenty feet across from me. His hand never leaves mine.

I guess Elio and Marco are right. If I'm going to be directly in contact with various mafias, learning how to use a gun's a necessity.

I brace myself for the sound and the coming force, and hesitantly move my index finger to the trigger. My heart hammers in my chest and I remind myself I'm not doing anything wrong. Elio's hand gently squeezes mine and I hate how reassuring it is.

I summon my dare and pull the trigger. The powerful wave of shock travels up my arm. The gunshot echoes in the room.

"Well done," he whispers near my ear, causing goosebumps all over my skin. One of his hands rests on my hip. "Go again."

I gulp, struggling to ignore the feeling of his palm. I tighten my fingers around the grip of the pistol, training my eyes on the target and relaxing my tense shoulders before firing.

Elio nods approvingly and his other hand lifts from mine. I instantly miss his touch. 

To distract my body and mind's reaction to Elio, I ask, "Aren't you worried?"

"About?" he questions with confusion.

I face him. "I'm your enemy and you're teaching me how to handle a gun."

His brows knit together as he tilts his head.

Waving the pistol, I explain, "I can easily shoot you right here and now. Doesn't it worry you?"

A corner of his mouth twitches upwards before disappearing completely. His hand envelopes the hand I'm holding the gun with and he lifts the gun, along with my arm, pressing the muzzle to his forehead. I gasp in horror as he locks his dark eyes with mine.

"What are you waiting for? Go on then."

I gawk at him, trying to free my hand from under his, but it's futile. "Elio!"

"You have a loaded gun and you're one pull of a trigger away from killing the capo dei capi of Mariano Cosca."

"Elio, stop this madness!" I shout, my voice wavering in fear and my palms become clammy.

Slowly, Elio leads the gun downwards and presses the muzzle to his chest, right over his heart. He keeps his hand firmly perched atop mine. "I'm giving you the power to get rid of me this very second."

"Stop this, you're scaring me." My breaths tear out of my mouth in harsh inhales and exhales as I stare at him with wide eyes.

He comes closer. "There's nothing to fear. You're the one holding me at gunpoint."

My mouth hangs open. Words leave my mind.

"You can call it stupidity, insanity, arrogance, or whatever you like," he starts, keeping the gun on his chest.

My eyes anxiously dart between his hand and eyes.

A corner of his mouth lifts. "You promised me you won't kill me, or get me killed." Elio's gaze grows more intense as I nervously gulp. "And I-" For the first time, his eyes sweep across the place before returning to me. He draws a deep breath. "I decided to believe you..." his voice trails down, and his Adam's apple bobs. "I trust you, Cerise." He takes his hand off. I instantly pull the gun away from him.

Elio runs his fingers through his hair, the ghost of a smile softening his features. "I know you won't kill me."

"B-but what if-" I stutter, not able to form an entire sentence.

"If you don't kill me, it means I've trusted the right person. However, if you end up pulling that trigger... well, it'll be the price I have to pay for trusting the wrong person."

"You're insane," I breathe out, retreating a step.

He shrugs. "Name it whatever you like." Elio takes a long stride, closing the gap between us. I crane my neck to meet his eyes as he leans toward me. "So far, you've proved I've trusted the right person... I hope you don't end up proving me wrong, tesorino." He raises his hand but stops.

Hesitantly, he caresses my cheek with the back of his fingers and lightly runs the pad of his thumb as his hand slides down. "Let's continue the practice," he whispers huskily.

I stare at him for a beat longer, trying to wrap my head around this madness before hesitantly nodding and turning around.

He stands behind me, closer than before, planting his hands on my waist.

The extent of his trust scares me. Didn't he once consider I might pull the trigger and kill him right on the spot? I don't think I'll ever be able to trust someone like that.

To distract myself, I ask something safe, "Is the rule of not being allowed to learn Italian still intact?" I hope he doesn't notice my voice is smaller and slightly breathier than normal.

A soft chuckle slips from his lips. "The one you're not allowed to learn Italian from anyone, except me? Yeah." Elio places his palm on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Don't tense up and try again."

Focus. Breathe. Aim. Breathe. Pull the trigger.

The gunshot rings inside the room, and the bullet pierces the bottom of the target. I sense Elio moving closer to me. His chest brushes my back.

"The angle was off," he says, taking off the hand he had placed on my shoulder and moving it along the length of my arm. "Tighten your hold on the grip and relax your arm's muscles. Try again." His fingertips linger on my stretched arm, tingling my skin.

Once he lifts his hand, I attempt again and the bullet hits the spot slightly closer to the center.

"That's better," he praises, and an involuntary smile spills over my face.

"Why don't you want me to learn from others?" I question, placing the gun on the narrow surface and wringing my fingers to get the feeling of the pistol off them.

"We're not done yet, tesorino. You're not going anywhere until you've hit bullseye thrice in a row."

I purse my lips with annoyance. "You're a pain in the ass. Just because you're the boss-"

"I can and I will. Pick it up, tesorino."

I scowl at the gun, because his hand is still on my waist and I'm not brave enough to face him while there's barely an inch between us. With a huff and a muttered 'asshole' under my breath, I fix my stance and pick up the pistol. "You didn't answer my question," I point out as I stretch my arms, aiming at the target.

"Is it possible for you to hate me more than you already do?" His deep voice seeps into me as he rests his other hand on my waist.

I gulp and lick my parched bottom lip as he brings his mouth close to my ear. His nose brushes the shell of my ear and my heart skips a beat, my breath hitching.

"If I tell you I don't want any other man in Cosa Nostra, even mine, to come closer to you than needed, or grow any sort of... relations with you, would you believe me?" he murmurs next to my ear. "Would it make you hate me more than you already do?" His fingers tighten on either side of my waist.

For some undefined reason, my heart flutters, and butterflies swirl in unison in my stomach.

He's right, I have to despise him even more for limiting me... yet, despite everything, I don't particularly hate the idea of spending more time with him. What the hell is wrong with me!

"But how can I be sure you're not teaching me incorrectly?" My voice comes out as a breathless whisper.

"Have a little faith in me, tesorino mio."

I bite my bottom lip. "Okay... tell me what's 'I hate you' in Italian."

A breathy chuckle escapes from him as he dips his head to my neck, brushing his lips ever so lightly, snatching my breath away. "Why? The English version is not enough anymore?"

I fail to shrug. My body is no longer taking orders from my brain as Elio presses us together.

"It never hurts to know over one version of such a useful term," I breathe out.

He hums, his breath caressing my skin, smoldering me, replacing the blood inside my veins with a burning flame.

"The bullet won't be fired by itself, tesoro." The smugness in his voice pushes me back to my senses.

I clutch the grip and glare at the target instead of Elio. I aim and inhale deeply to steady myself before pulling the trigger. Again, the bullet cuts through the target, over an inch away from the bullseye.

"You'll get better, you just need more practice," he muses, dragging the back of his hand up to the side of my breast before sliding back down to my waist. He repeats the motion in deliberate moves, while his other hand firmly holds my waist.

My head swims with the overwhelming feeling. For a fleeting moment, I wonder how his hand would feel against my bare skin. I shove away the thought as soon as it enters my head.

"I hate you is 'ti odio'," he whispers huskily.

Before I can stop my stupid mouth from blabbering, the words stream out, "And what about I love you?"

I sense his smile against the back of my neck. "Why do you ask?"

I lift a shoulder, my mind scrambling for an excuse. Having his hot breath hitting my skin isn't helping. "Maybe I have a special someone in mind." I bit my bottom lip to suppress my smirk.

I have no valid reason for saying what I said instead of all the other excuses I could've come up with... but a small part of me enjoys getting a reaction out of him way too much to allow this opportunity to waste.

He snorts and shakes his head. "Fire."

I aim at the target. His hands are still on me when I fire. My eyes widen, the bullet passes the bullseye by less than an inch.

"For your current imaginary special someone, you can use," Elio starts, pressing himself closer to me.

My body grows warmer, and it's not only because of the warmth his body is radiating, it's rather the aching need for him. With every passing second, my body yearns for more contact.

"Ti voglio bene," he finishes, pressing me tighter against himself. His hard shaft pokes at my back and my core clenches with desire, intensifying the ache between my legs.

It takes me a few blinks and a hard gulp just to think straight again. 

"You can ask Marco if you don't believe me." He brushes his lips against my earlobe and my breath hitches again, making my heart pound faster than it has ever had. "Fire."

With a deep inhale, I shoot and gasp when the bullet hits the wall behind the target, earning a soft chuckle from Elio. I want to complain and blame it on him, but I can't.

Having our bodies pressed together is muddling up my thoughts. My logic is thrown far off balance. My mind dares to entertain the idea of letting things escalate between us. The voice screaming in my head how this closeness is so utterly wrong grows weaker.

Elio's warm lips land on the slope of my neck, laying a soft kiss.

I inhale sharply, my heart near to bursting out as another round of butterflies flutter in my stomach. My knees weaken the slightest, and I clutch the grip of the pistol tighter.

"Go on," he gruffly says next to my ear before lightly grazing my earlobe with his teeth. My eyes fall shut and I sense his lips pulling into a smirk as he gently bites the spot, making me gasp. "Am I distracting you, ciliegia mia?"

"That's a new one," I purr, and sense his smile.

"Am I not allowed to call you my cherry?" He kisses the spot just below the first kiss on my neck.

My head tilts to the side on its own accord to give him better access. His arm wraps around me as his other hand's fingers dig into my side. My free hand holds Elio's arm around me.

He trails slow, hot kisses down my neck, turning my insides to mush. His hard-on presses to my back and my fingers curl around his wrist as his arm flexes.

He lightly sucks the crook of my neck and I moan, my head lolling back to his chest. He shifts the slightest, his cock grinds against my back and makes him groan.

The sound itself is enough to throw me to the edge, fuelling the fire burning brighter and brighter inside me. Heat pools in my clenching core, my body yearns for his touch, growing hotter, as I throb for more.

But if I let this go on even for one more moment, I won't be able to stop it.

With great effort, I open my eyes. "Elio." I want to sound firm, but it's breathy and hoarse. Although it's enough to give him a pause.

I unlatch my fingers from around his toned arm and slowly face him. My cheeks flare up, and I avoid looking at him. "We shouldn't," I mumble.

His burning gaze searches my face. I fidget with my fingers and look anywhere but him. "Uh- t-this... w-we... we really shouldn't." I gulp and shuffle my feet, feeling the blush heating my neck.

"Does my touch repulse you?" he asks quietly.

I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from instantly saying no. "Even though we've decided to work together, for now, it doesn't change the reality. We're enemies... and... it'll only make things harder for us, and add awkwardness to the long list of our problems." I dare to glance up at him.

His features are blank as he stares at me. "I don't understand where the awkwardness is coming from."

I nibble my bottom lip as I lift a shoulder and look away. "You've been with a lot of women."

"That's your problem?" he asks with incredulity.

I roll my eyes and cross my arms. "The last time I was with a guy it was my ex... before law school." I raise my brows and meet his gaze.

He frowns and cocks his head to the side. "So?"

I gape at him. "What do you mean so! Do you need me to spell out everything for you!"

"Yes, please! Because I'm not getting where you're going with this." Elio shoves his hands into his pockets and keeps his smoldering gaze fixated on me.

I puff out a breath of air. "I've only been with two guys, Elio. You've been with a lot of women... experienced women. Imagine we... end up sleeping together, then you'd be like 'gee she sucks at sex' and that's where the awkwardness comes into play." I close my eyes and inhale deeply. "Let's just not make things more complicated."

I don't wait for his response as I step around him and hurry to the door.

"I don't agree with you," Elio says just as I reach the door. He smirks at me, and I roll my eyes again. "And the matter of inexperience, I don't mind that."

I chew my bottom lip and hastily nod at him. "I-I should go," I stammer, spinning on my heels and rushing out of the room, my cheeks burning up again.

❈ ☯︎ ❈

I'm so sorry for the long chapter, I promise this is the last long chapter. I hope you enjoyed it =) vote if you did and comment your thoughts. Do you think at some point, Cerise will seriously consider shooting Elio? :D And tell me your thoughts on Elio's trust. Do you think he's being arrogant? Or plainly reckless?

And things are getting steamy, aren't they 👀 hehehe. Slow burn is literally my favourite part in every romance book xD

On a side note: thanks to the increasing number of Italian mafia romances, you guys probably know that 'I love you' in Italian is not what Elio said to Cerise :) But fun fact: according to my research, Italians use this version rather than 'ti amo' because that's too intense used in specific situations... so yeah, there you go, your daily dose of fun fact (if you already didn't know)lol.

If you have recently joined me on this crazy journey (or if you've been following it from the start) thank you soooo much for reading this story <3

Stay safe, lots of love, happy reading ♡