When I see that it's Landon, I give a sigh of relief and press my hand to my chest as if I can slow my racing heart. My momentary relief that there isn't a stranger in the living room dissipates when I realize there's a dark, foreboding mood in the room.

  "Landon?" I ask tentatively, taking a step back involuntarily.

  "Something wrong, Juliet?" he inquires, in a low, menacing voice that sends flutters through my stomach.

  "I just wanted to see if you were home," I tell him, feeling embarrassed by my neediness.

  He says nothing to me in response to my statement, but I can feel the glittering heat of his eyes never leaving me as he takes a slow sip of the drink in his hand.

  "Come here," he commands me, in a voice that makes me nervous, but that stirs my body to life at the same time.

  He sounds angry and I can't tell if he's upset with me, or with something else that has happened.

  I walk towards him tentatively, acutely aware of his examination of my body. I'm wearing a silk slip that he bought me, and it outlines every one of my curves. The moonlight feels like a spotlight following me in my journey across the room.

  I walk until I'm standing right in front of him. He's sprawled out in the chair, looking like an arrogant dark prince on his throne.

  "Take off your gown," he orders in that same cold tone, and I take a deep breath.

  Surprising myself, I obediently push first one strap, then another, off my shoulders until the silken fabric slides down the rest of my body. I feel self-conscious standing in front of him in nothing but my bra and underwear. My mind flicks back to that night we first met, how he was surrounded by gorgeous women. Although we've filled many an hour with kissing, this is the first time he has seen me this unclothed.

  "Perfect," he whispers and suddenly all thoughts of those girls disappear. When he says it, he sounds like he's never seen anything more stunning in his entire life. I want to believe him.

  "Kneel down," he orders me.

  I fall to my knees, giving in to his dominance not because I have to, but because I want to.

  "Don't move," he continues.

  He loosens his tie and takes a sip of the amber liquid in the tumbler he holds loosely in his hand. After he drains the glass, he sets it on the table next to the chair and slowly begins to undo the buttons of his perfectly pressed shirt.

  He reveals the first bit of his golden skin, and I can't help but reach out my fingers to touch it.

  "I told you not to move, Juliet," he says in an authoritative tone that makes me weak.

  He continues to slowly unbutton his shirt until his chest is completely bared to me. He sits completely still, a smug look on his face as I take my fill of him.

  Holy shit. Landon Torrio is a god among men. He's exquisitely carved, his abdomen rippling with dips and shadows. There's absolutely nothing soft about him. A small smattering of hair leads down to below his slacks. I ache to see where it ends.

  He can see that I'm straining to explore but I obediently stay still.

  "Good girl," he says, his golden eyes almost molten as he takes in my submissive position.

  I've never felt like this, this desire to be told what to do. Kneeling in front of him, I find myself wanting him to direct me with his commanding, seductive words. I want him to entice me with a provocative warning of what he has in store for me. My body melts under his alluring spell, hungry for him to take me to the bliss he has hinted at.

  His fingers move to undo the belt of his slacks. He pauses, taking in my watchful, wanting gaze as he finishes unbuckling it, and then moves to the zipper on his slacks.

  I'm sure that my desire is evident as I stare at him greedily. His sinful, conceited smile tells me he's very aware of the effect he has on me.

  "Do you want me, Juliet?" he asks, pushing the slacks lower so that I can see more of that delicious trail.

  "Yes," I breathe out, my voice wavering.

  "And what else would you like?" he asks, his zipper now all the way down. I can see him straining beneath the white boxer shorts he's wearing.

  "Tell me, baby. Do you want me to devour your sweet body? To make you feel full until you scream?"

  "My gosh," I mutter under my breath.

  "Juliet!" comes a scream from upstairs, effectively dousing my sexual haze like someone's dumped icy water all over me. I immediately stand up and gather my gown, knowing that its Clara having one of her nightmares that she's had since the attack.

  I rush out of the room, taking one last look behind me at the heavy-lidded man I've left behind me. The hint of promise is heavy in the air.

  The following morning comes too soon. The bright light of day makes the events of the night before seem like a dream. A deliciously, dark dream. I fell asleep next to Clara after her nightmare, and I feel a pang of anger when I remember how terrified she still gets almost every night as her mind forces her to relive that night.

  Watching her for a moment to make sure she's still asleep, I slowly get out of the bed and walk back to my room. Since we had moved into Landon's home so soon after I met him, I didn't feel comfortable sleeping in his room yet, much to his displeasure. He set me up in a bedroom right across from his, and the temptation builds to go to him with every passing nightfall. I have a feeling that after last night, I should probably just accept defeat.

  After I pull a robe over my nightdress, I walk down to the kitchen to see if the cook has made something to eat for breakfast.

  I step into the kitchen and am shocked to see Landon at the table, calmly reading a newspaper and drinking his coffee. Like always, he looks perfect. Dressed in a pinstripe suit, the coat portion of his three-piece suit draped on the back of his chair, he looks the very image of a powerful man.

  A rush of heat passes over me as I think about the events of last night, and just how attractive he made taking off a suit look.

  "Hungry?" he asks, letting me know that he is aware of me watching him.

  The dark, aggressive mood from the night before is still there, and I wonder when we will get to the point where he tells me about things that are troubling him.

  Taking the cue that he's not in the mood to talk, I eat the hard-boiled eggs and buttered toast that the cook has thoughtfully prepared for me, knowing that it's my favorite.

  We eat in silence, both lost in our own worlds. After he's finished with his coffee, Landon stands up and grabs his jacket, kisses me on the cheek with a muted goodbye, and leaves the room.

  I stare after him wondering what's going on.

  When he comes home that evening, I'm waiting for him on a chair in the front entryway. He's home a bit earlier than usual, but his forehead still raises in surprise when he sees me.

  "Juliet?" he asks, a question in his tone.

  I straighten up from the chair and walk over to him. I then lead him down the hallway into the back deck where Clara and I spend most mornings enjoying the beautiful property that stretches behind Landon's mansion.

  I sit him down on one of the outdoor couches, and then straddle his lap. His eyes grow hooded with pleasure at my actions. I'm never like this.

  "I want to know you," I tell him quietly. He starts to speak but I lay a finger on his lips. "I want to really know you. The good, the bad, the ugly," I continue, looking into his eyes so he understands what I'm trying to say.

  He stares at me for so long that I'm afraid that he's angry about my forcefulness.

  "Once I tell you all of that you won't be able to go back," he tells me. "Every part of you will belong to me."

  I think of the part of my heart that he can never own because it still belongs to James, but I obviously don't tell him about that.

  "I'm ready," I say.

  Landon leans his head back on the couch cushion and takes a deep breath.

  "I'm sure you've figured out now that I'm not a good man, Juliet."

  I nod.

  "I run one of the largest crime syndicates in the country," he says quietly.

  "What exactly does that mean?" I ask.

  "I'm a gangster, Juliet," he says.

  I suspected as much but his admission is still a big deal. The newspapers are always filled with stories about the crime families sweeping across New York City. Tales of their exploits are filled with murder, booze, drugs, and fear.

  "Do you sell drugs and booze?" I ask timidly.

  "Yes."

  "Guns?"

  He nods.

  Murder and all things related to that hover between us. We both have done that.

  "I don't want to do those things," I begin, and watch as Landon's eyes sharpen with the hard glint of anger.

  "But I want you to tell me everything," I hurry on. "I want to be your partner, your shoulder that you lean on, the person you give your burdens to."

  His eyes widen, and I watch mesmerized as his pupils expand in what I can tell is lust, based on the large body part that I currently can feel growing beneath me.

  "You want all of that?" he says, his voice a little gruffer than normal. "Do you realize what you're saying?"

  "I want everything," I whisper, before crashing my lips into his.

  Melting against his hard body, I dig my fingers into his hair. He holds my face with both hands, so I can't move away. He takes out the stress of his last few weeks on me with lashes of his tongue. I match his need. He takes it, takes me until I can't breathe, but he doesn't let me go, continuing to punish my lips with his.

  We're both breathing heavily when we resurface for air.

  "I had to kill a man I thought was my brother last night," he says quietly, looking off into the distance at something behind me. "He was stealing from me. It's why I've been gone so much lately. I've been trying to find out what was happening to my shipments. Parts of every single one had been missing lately."

  I softly stroke his hair, trying to be comforting as he finally shares with me what's been going on. He leans into my hand, and I give a sigh of relief at the gesture.

  "When some other of my guys came to me with their suspicions that it was him, I couldn't believe it. We grew up together. He's always been my right-hand man. I finally decided to set a trap, setting up a shipment that I only told him about unbeknownst to him. When several crates of guns disappeared, I couldn't deny the truth. I confronted him about it and he denied it at first. When he saw that I couldn't be persuaded otherwise, he sank to his knees, begging me for forgiveness."

  Landon's eyes are wide and vacant as he relives the events he is telling me about.

  "He cried like a little child. Telling me that he had gotten in deep with a gambling debt and hadn't wanted to trouble me with it. He said he was going to pay me back."

  Landon's eyes focus on mine, a dark and determined gleam rising in them.

  "I pulled out my gun, and while looking right at him so he could see my intention, I shot him right between the eyes."

  There's a silence as we stare at each other. I know that this is a test. And though I have no doubt that his story is true, I also know that whatever reaction I have to this macabre tale, one that involves him killing a man in cold blood that he had called his brother, will determine the outcome of our relationship indefinitely.

  Landon reaches up a hand to stroke the side of my face. He pauses right before touching me, appraising me to see if I'm going to flinch away.

  I don't move, a defiant look on my face.

  "Are you going to run away now, fair Juliet?" he says snidely. "Are you alright with the fact that you're in league with a monster?"

  Something is wrong with me because instead of feeling the disgust and fear that I should be feeling, I feel hunger.

  I surprise both of us when I lean towards him, slowly meeting our lips so that I can taste him. In the gentle press of my lips, I tell him my own secrets, and they speak of a love that I never knew I would feel again. My pulse, his lips, the sound of my breath, the feeling of the heat radiating off of him, the calm possession...I'm tied into a knot of desire. He tastes like everything I've ever wanted or needed. And I won't let him go. Not now that we've found our way to each other. No matter how wrong it is for me to want such a bad man. In Landon I feel the freedom that I never knew I was even looking for.

  Everything changes that day. By accepting the evil in him, I found myself for the first time in this new life of mine.

  There's a scarf tied around my eyes as we drive to some unknown location. By how far we've driven, I have suspicions of where we're going and for what purpose, but Landon has been so secretive lately that I play along like this is all a surprise.

  Just as I suspected, when the scarf is untied from around my eyes, Landon's gleaming boat is waiting for us. He helps me on it, and when I see the rose petals strewn all over it, and the candles that someone has carefully lit, my heart begins to skip a beat. When I turn around, Landon is on one knee, anticipation and nervousness in his eyes. We are completely alone, the suits that usually follow us nowhere in sight.

  "I haven't had a family for so long you would think it was forever," he begins, his tone slightly choked up. The moment I saw you, that changed. I refuse to spend another day in this life without you being mine," he says roughly, holding up a velvet, burgundy box which he opens up to reveal an enormous diamond ring.

  "Marry me, Juliet," he orders.

  The command in his voice can't mask the vulnerability that I see in his eyes. For the first time since I've met Landon I realize that I'm actually the one with the power. This man who has never let anyone in, who has tried to control everyone and everything around him, needs me. He loves me more than everything else in his life. So much that he's willing to take this leap with me even with the chance I could hurt him.

  It's a good thing that I love him just as much in return.

  For a moment, I let myself remember another proposal, very different from this one, and I silently say goodbye to those beautiful memories.

  "Yes," I tell him, tears beginning to stream down my cheeks.

  His laugh comes out so relieved that I start to cry. God willing, we will have a beautiful life together.

  I disappeared the night before we were to be wed. I was in front of the mirror, doing one last fitting of my wedding dress to ensure that everything was perfect, when I first felt the tingling.

  I thought nothing of it at first, after all, it had been years since I last experienced the feeling. I was too busy fussing over my dress, wondering if the roses had been delivered, if Clara was ready to walk me down the aisle tomorrow, if Landon had any last-minute nerves. Clara had gone to see if my veil could be pressed. I was all alone in the room.

  I was staring at myself in front of the mirror picturing what Landon's face was going to look like when he saw me...and then I was gone.

  Like the masochist I am, I searched for what happened to Landon as soon as I got to a time period where it was possible.

  After years of searching, I found a newspaper clipping talking about the notorious "Landon Torrio" who was shot dead outside of a speakeasy, three years after I had disappeared. The article said that "Landon had seemed unhinged in the years since his fiancé had disappeared without warning, frequently engaging in risky investments, gang wars for seemingly no real purpose, and heavy drinking." It said that he was buried in a small cemetery in Brooklyn.

  When I finally find his grave, I feel that I might never recover. There's no sign of a wife buried nearby, and my traitorous heart gives a sigh of relief. Under his birth and death dates are etched lines from what I recognize as a verse from Romeo and Juliet:

  These violent delights have violent ends

  And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

  Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey

  Is loathsome in his own deliciousness

  And in the taste confounds the appetite.

  Therefore love moderately; long love doth so;

  Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

  He never forgot me. Just like I will never forget him.

  Now

  Liam arrives at the diner an hour after I start my shift. He asks Bethany to sit in my section, and then promptly pulls his laptop out of his artfully faded leather satchel, typing away as the night goes on.

  I of course ignore him, intent on getting through to him that I was serious when I told him that we shouldn't see each other. I send Bethany to make sure he's fed and watered since he doesn't appear to be going anywhere, but I studiously pretend that his booth is not in my section.

  I pretend that I don't hear Bethany cracking up in laughter at something he says to her as she refills his water. I pretend that I don't see the local prostitutes eyeing him as they eat in preparation for their busy night. I pretend that I don't see the way that our regular customers respectfully eye him as they come in. I pretend that I don't care.

  He stays in that booth until my shift ends, making no move to talk to me. His limo is once again waiting as he follows me outside, the same as the first night I met him. Tonight though, I don't get into the limo, and I stubbornly walk the two miles home, with Liam's limo slowly tailing me. It would be creepy if I didn't know now that Liam is the kind of guy that would make sure anyone he cares about is safe.

  I don't sleep the whole night, largely because I wonder if he's going to show up for the next day's shift. I don't admit it, but there's a part of me...a large part of me...that hopes he does.

  The same as the day before, Liam arrives about an hour after my shift starts. From the sneaky way that he and Bethany are eyeing me, I'm sure that the traitor has told him my entire week's shift schedule. I ignore him again, but I do have Bethany bring him one of the chocolate chip cookies that the cook just pulled out of the oven. His limo trails me home again that night as I walk home after my shift.

 

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