Sleeping With The Mafia E-Book

Jamila Jasper

• Herausgeber: Publisher s23991
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Benito Orsini won’t take no for an answer…He’s been dreaming about owning her heart for a decade.No matter what secrets she’s hiding, he needs to get her between the sheets.His old high school sweetheart has aged like a fine wine.One night of passion is all it takes for him to change her mind.He’s well endowed with the perfect length & girth plus a heart of gold.Sheba Lewis is head over heels for this mafia ringleader.But Sheba has a decade old secret. And when it gets out, things won't be pretty.HABANERO HOT interracial romance novel. Get this book ASAP if you enjoy steamy BWWM novels with frequent romps between the sheets. You might have heard about how steamy my stories are. Why don't you see for yourself what you're missing... Get this book to taste the raw and unfiltered action.

Leseprobe

Prologue

June 2007

She stared off across the river. The lights near the boathouse illuminated just enough of the path that she’d be able to see him coming. There was no one else here. The usual haunt for high school students looking for some privacy to hook up was abandoned in favor of the prom dance floor. Sheba usually found the boathouse creepy. But in the past year, she’d come to watch Benito row with the varsity team and they’d made many memories here. Enough to quell her fears.

The deep, forest green of the river coated with a few spots of yellow algae emanated a coldness only familiar to those who spent their lives deep in New England — in small town Massachusetts specifically. Sheba had attended prom for a few minutes. Not long. Her socially acceptable date did nothing for her, despite the fact that he was a star on the track team, had deep chocolate brown skin and dreadlocks that fell to his waist.

He was handsome. Just not for her.

Her pale yellow dress, cinched tightly at her waist and the tulle flowed to the ground. Sheba had this dress hand-tailored by a seamstress in Boston for over $500. Her father’s graduation gift to her. Sheba sighed. Benito was late. As usual.

Sheba kicked off her shoes. Once out of the Steve Madden brown wedges, she was down to her regular height of 5’5”. She tiptoed towards the edge of the dock. The river had a damp, fresh scent and the smell of the evening dew added to it. It was early June, which meant that nights down by the river were still chilly compared to the warmer nights of summer.

Sheba hated waiting.

She hiked up her dress, just above her knees and sat down at the edge of the dock. She dipped her toes into the icy water and then recoiled. For a split second, she feared that something lurking beneath the surface of the river would reach up and grab onto her toes, pulling her under. And no one would know.

Frustrated, she pulled out her new Sidekick.

“Where r u??”

Sheba sighed and set the phone down. The school’s campus was safe, but that didn’t mean she intended on staying down here indefinitely waiting for Benito. Sheba’s long, relaxed hair was dyed an ash brown color. She’d had it pinned up in a bun with a Swarovski crystal pin holding her hair together. She took out the pin and stuffed it into her clutch. Her long hair fell down the middle of her back.

“Beautiful.”

“Jesus Christ Benito!” Sheba exclaimed, “I’ve been waiting for ages.”​

“I’m sorry my love.”

She stood up and rushed up towards the path where Benito had emerged.

“I had a lot of trouble breaking away.”​

“Fine,” She whispered.

They embraced. The two eighteen year olds pressed lips together and their tongues clumsily explored each other’s mouths before they pulled away. Benito looked at Sheba closely, analyzing how beautiful her medium brown skin looked in her yellow dress. Her blue-green eyes shone underneath the light from the street lamps.

“You’re alone?” He whispered.

​“Of course.”​

They kissed again. Benito ran his hands through her long hair as they kissed. Getting away from the party had been difficult, especially since his sister Katarina had been keeping a suspiciously close eye on him.

“How was Chris?” Benito whispered.

Sheba smacked him playfully, “Oh shut up. Chris was fine… I told him over and over again that it wasn’t a date and he still asked to hook up.”

“Oh no,” Benito said, chuckled.

Sheba looked into Benito’s eyes. His brown eyes glistened with mischief. His brown hair was gelled up into spikes and his suit fit him so well, she couldn’t help but feel woozy.

“And what about you?” Sheba asked, “How was Charlotte?”

Benito rolled his eyes, “She was… Charlotte. Bragged to everybody that we were going to be a thing. She thinks because we’re both going to Oxford that we’re meant to be.”​

Sheba wrinkled her nose. Benito smiled and kissed her on her wrinkled nose.

“You don’t have to worry about Charlotte,” Benito replied, “She’s way too high maintenance for me.”

“I don’t know how you got away from her.”​

“Skill,” Benito replied with a smirk.

His face turned serious for a moment. He grasped Sheba’s hands and pressed them to his lips.

“I have something important to tell you Sheba.”​

“What is it?”​

Benito muttered, “My parents are moving us back to Italy.”​

“What?”

Sheba pulled her hands away from him.

“I just found out today. My mother wants us to be closer to Oxford. And she wants me to become more fluent in Italian.”​

“You’re already fluent!” Sheba exclaimed, “And what about us! What about vacations? When are we supposed to see each other?!”

​“I don’t know,” Benito said.

Sheba could see he was just as scared as she was, despite his attempts to hide it.

​“I don’t know,” Benito repeated, “But this won’t change things between us.”​

“I don’t believe you,” Sheba whispered.

Benito saw the tears glistening in her bluish green eyes. He wiped one of her tears away and kissed her on the cheek.

“Tonight is not supposed to be about that.”

“I know.”

​“So…” Benito continued, “Let’s forget it. We will solve the problem of my mother later.”

“I don’t want you to go…” Sheba whispered, pressing her head to Benito’s chest.

He kissed her forehead and pulled her close.

“Don’t worry Sheba. I promise… I will come back to you as soon as I can.”​

He tilted her chin up so her lips would meet his once again. He kissed her cheek, her lips and then her neck. Sheba exposed the flesh of her neck to him, allowing Benito to graze his teeth.

​“I promise you… I’ll make your first time worth your while…” He whispered.

Sheba clutched onto him. His jacket was still on and the Italian wool beneath her fingertips was a sensation that would always remind her of Benito. Her hands were shaking as she touched the first button on Benito’s shirt.

“It’s okay to go slow.”

Sheba nodded. She began to unbutton Benito Orsini’s shirt. As his tanned, Italian chest came into view, Sheba could feel herself getting excited. From the time she’d first started dating Benito she’d wanted this. But she’d still wanted to be in love with him first. Benito, more experienced as he was, still had the patience to wait. He had been willing to take things slow with Sheba, introducing her to her first kiss. He’d made out with her for the first time and taken the inexperienced nerdy girl on a slow romantic journey.

The only issue was their relationship was a secret. It had to be that way. Sheba’s parents wouldn’t have approved because they thought the varsity athlete was too much of a ladies man. Benito’s family didn’t approve of him having a relationship with a non-Italian. So they’d kept their secret and met up in the middle of the night to touch lips beneath the moonlight. Their expensive country day school in New England had many secret spots where they could meet up after hours at the library.

So they did. Sheba had been anticipating this night for months. Beneath her pale yellow prom dress, she wore matching white underwear that hugged her curves tightly. Benito’s mischievous smirk as he unzipped her dress caused her to feel something between her thighs. This sensation was unfamiliar, something she’d only experienced once in a while after a particularly long make-out session.

Benito took his jacket off and Sheba finished undoing his shirt.

“Let’s go behind the boathouse,” He suggested, “We’ll have more privacy.”​

The grassy knoll behind the boathouse was totally abandoned. The only risked they faced was the night watchman emerging from the path. But he only came through once every couple of hours and Benito was sure they’d have plenty of notice if by chance someone did arrive.

Benito led her behind the boathouse and lay Sheba down on the grassy knoll. Her hair sprawled out behind her like an angel’s halo. Her breathing grew heavy as Benito positioned himself on top of her. He kissed her neck again. Her bosoms heaved beneath him. Benito could feel himself getting hard in his pants.

He’d been chasing after Sheba Lewis for two years. Now that he’d finally had her, Benito had found himself more than craving her. He was in love with her. Completely, and totally in love. His mother’s news about the move back to Italy had not been taken well. Benito had smashed a few of her heirloom vases and he had hell to pay when he returned home.

Sheba… He’d do anything to stay with her, to remain where he belonged with Sheba in his arms. He began to pull off her dress. Sheba’s skin reacted to the cool early summer air, prickling with gooseflesh as Sheba’s shoulder became exposed. Benito pressed his warm lips to her shoulder and he slipped Sheba’s dress down around her hips.

The white bra holding Sheba’s breasts into place sent Benito’s dick hard at attention. The contrast of the white bra against her brown skin drove him wild. Sheba’s gorgeous dark skin was one of Benito’s favorite features. He unhooked Sheba’s bra, causing her breasts to swing into view.

His dick twitched in his pants. Benito slipped Sheba’s dress off and slipped her underwear over her hips. She was naked beneath him. Benito slipped out of his pants and began slowly kissing her.

“Are you sure you want this?” Benito whispered.

Sheba ran her hands through his hair, and touched his cheek, pulling his face close to hers. She kissed Benito, the man she loved more than anyone in the world. Benito, her first love, of course she wanted this.

“I’m sure,” Sheba whispered.

Benito kissed her. He released his member from his pants and lined it up with Sheba’s entrance. She had no clue what to expect. She closed her eyes as Benito began to slide his hardness inside her. He went slowly, exactly as he’d promised. He kissed her as he started to press inside her inch by inch.

Sheba felt a mixture of pleasure and pain as Benito began to slide inside her. He was the first man she’d ever had and she knew she would never regret this moment. His lips were pressed to her neck as his entire hardness was inside her. With his full length buried inside her, Sheba needed a few moments to adjust. She breathed her way through it, eventually adjusting to the pain so she would feel only pleasure.

Benito began to thrust inside her. At first, he stroked nice and slow. Then he began to pound into Sheba harder… She moaned as Benito thrust that first deep stroke. Sheba began to feel immense pleasure unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Her wetness gripped Benito’s dick like a vice and she began to feel heat building in her core.

She let out a loud moan and Benito was encouraged to pump into her harder. He whispered, “I love you,” into her ears as he continued to thrust his hardness between his girlfriend’s legs.

“Don’t stop…” Sheba whispered.

She’d been afraid from the moment she first felt Benito’s hardness against her entrance, but now that she’d adjusted to his size she was eager for climax. She gripped Benito’s athletic back muscles and pulled him deeper inside her.

He obeyed her demand for him not to stop and began to pummel her wetness with fury and excitement. Sheba let out a loud cry as she experienced her first climax of many. She grabbed onto Benito as he sank his lips into her neck again. He felt her body vibrating as she moaned in climax beneath him. Sheba wrapped her legs around him and for a moment they paused, enjoying the forceful euphoria that existed between them.

​“Keep going… keep going…” Sheba urged him.

Benito began to thrust into her again. This time, he pushed his dick into Sheba with long and slow strokes. Her face contorted into pleasure beneath him and he could feel himself getting harder as he watched her face twist into pleasure and her body writhing beneath him.

He grunted, struggling to hold back a climax. Sheba grabbed his ass cheeks and pulled him deeper. Benito pounded her wetness a few more times before he released. He grunted and released inside of her. As far as he knew, Sheba was on birth control and they’d both been preparing for this day so long that they’d both been tested. This was 100% safe and 100% perfect first time for her.

Benito kissed Sheba again on the lips before pulling out of her. He got dressed as Sheba slipped back into her underwear. Benito watched as she slipped back into her prom dress. Sheba smiled shyly as she saw him watching her. Benito could never keep his affection for her to himself — even in the past when she’d rejected him so many times. Eventually, he’d won her over.

Before they were together, she’d had Benito all wrong. She’d mistaken him for another crude varsity athlete who only wanted one thing. But he’d waited a whole year before making love to her. And just like he’d promised, her first time was perfect. Sheba inched closer to Benito.

​“Come my love,” He whispered, “Let’s lie back and look at the moon.”​

The full moon overhead had added to the pithy illumination of the street lights. They lay back with fingers intertwined, staring up at the stars.

​“Do you think Charlotte’s wondering where you are?” Sheba giggled.

“I hope not.”

Benito leaned over and kissed Sheba on the cheek.

“Don’t worry about her,” He replied, “I see you enjoyed yourself.”​

Sheba felt heat rushing to her cheeks.

​“I did. Think we could do that again?”​

Benito chuckled, “Not now princess. Let’s just enjoy prom night. I promise… There will be plenty of time.”​

Sheba nuzzled close to Benito, resting her head on his shoulders. Benito began to stroke her hair, running his hands through the strands. They stared at the moon and then the river, rushing along past the dock.

“Even if I go,” Benito said, “I promise you Sheba, I will come back.”​

“It’s hard to believe,” Sheba said.

Benito kissed her forehead.

“Well you have to believe me. I won’t abandon you in this small town,” Benito replied.

Sheba knew what usually happened to couples after high school. She wanted to have faith in Benito. So far, he’d proven himself to her. But she was scared. He was her first love and losing him would break her heart. Sheba knew that. Still, she was just young enough to have a tender response.

“I love you Benito,” She said.

Benito smiled. It still excited him to hear Sheba say these three little words.

“I love you too, Sheba.”

Chapter 1

The Family returns

Sheba’s hand rested on Zion’s shoulder in the Shaw’s grocery store parking lot. She grit her teeth as she listened to Mrs. Callahan rip into her.

“Zion is not a well behaved little boy!” She growled.

Sheba gripped Zion’s shoulder, trying not freak out. It was hard. She was angry with her son for getting into trouble again but she was even more annoyed with Mrs. Callahan accosting her in the parking lot and speaking to her like a child.

Sheba was just trying to get her son into the car so she could have a serious chat with him about his behavior at school.

“Listen, I’m going to talk to Zion today.”

“Talk?!” Mrs. Callahan screamed, “I think we’re beyond talking. Your son is a brat! He cut Kevin’s hair and they dyed it GREEN. What kind of sick prank is that?!”​

Sheba sighed.

“Listen, I’m sorry okay? We’ll get this sorted out. I’m sorry this even happened.”

​“But is he sorry?!”

She launched into another tirade and Sheba found herself zoning out. Zion had been getting more and more rambunctious in school. She was struggling to keep him under control and it was starting to cause bigger problems for Sheba than she was prepared to deal with. Her father had been calling her as a trustee of Zion’s private school because his behavior was really getting that bad.

Even her brother Fletcher had come in to have a chat with Zion. No one seemed to be getting through with him.

“Listen,” Sheba stopped Mrs. Callahan, “I’ll be dealing with it. If you have anything more to say, I suggest you address it at a later time. I’ve really got to go.”

Mrs. Callahan’s mouth dropped open and her face turned beet red.

“You’re a bad mother and I just want you to acknowledge that.”​

Sheba lost it.

“I’m a bad mother?!” Sheba replied, “You’re truly out of line. I’m going to ask you one more time… Stop this, before I go off on you.”​

Mrs. Callahan folded her arms, “And do what? I see where your little brat gets his ghetto attitude.”

“GHETTO ATTITUDE?!” Sheba huffed, “Listen here Miss Thing. I will kick your ass ’til next Tuesday if you don’t keep your opinions to yourself.”

Mrs. Callahan was shocked by Sheba’s response. Usually, Sheba Lewis was mild mannered. She tried to keep her cool. She tried to maintain her composure even when a crazy white woman was testing her in the parking lot of a grocery store.

“I…I…” She stuttered.

Sheba continued, “Now. I am going to get out of here and if you want to take this up with the school further, you can do that. But what you’re not about to do is make a fool of me in public.”​

“Now,” Sheba said, walking forward a few steps, “Do you have anything else to say?”​

Mrs. Callahan opened her mouth but no words came out. Sheba steered her son Zion around and turned towards her car. She didn’t get two steps forward when she Sheba felt a large thud on the back of her head. She turned around with her mouth agape.

Mrs. Callahan had really just struck her with her purse.

“Zion… Get in the car,” Sheba uttered through grit teeth. She handed the grocery bags to her son and shoved the key into his outstretched palm.

“You’ve messed with the wrong —-,”

THUD.

Mrs. Callahan struck Sheba again with her purse. Sheba regretted even giving this crazy Irish woman the time of day over this silly children’s dispute which should have been solved with Zion’s one-day suspension. Some people just couldn’t let things go.

Sheba took off her earrings and readied herself to show Mrs. Callahan who was boss when she heard a man’s voice say, “HEY!”

A man started approaching and stood between them. His back was to Sheba. He looked familiar, but he wasn’t someone she instantly recognized.

“Hey! Stop hitting that woman. Get out of here!”

His accent was thick, heavy and foreign. His English rolled off his tongue slowly like molasses. He wasn’t a local.

Mrs. Callahan spat a grotesque wad of spit on the ground in front of the man, but then she relinquished the fight and stormed off towards her car. Sheba stood there, waiting to thank him. When the man turned around, she felt the color rush from her face. Her pupils dilated, covering her bluish green eyes.

She hadn’t seen him in ten years. She hadn’t heard his voice in ten years. Everything about him was completely different. Yet here he was — in their small town, standing right in front of her. Sheba’s head went dizzy and she felt like she was going to faint. The stimulation from her spat with Mrs. Callahan plus the vision of her past, sent her spinning.

“Benito…” She whispered.

His heavy Italian accent was much different from the sound of his voice she’d recognized from childhood. He had changed so much, but at his core he was still the same. He was still tall, although his athletic frame had filled out into thicker, more built muscles. His hair was still brown but he wore it a little shorter and with far less gel.

He no longer had the style of a high school student. He smelled like expensive musky cologne and fresh leather. His shoes and jacket were made from black Italian leather. It was really him. Sheba hadn’t heard a single word from him since the day he’d left for Italy, a week after their high school prom.

She almost didn’t believe it was him.

“Hello Sheba,” He replied with a smile.

He took her hand into his and pressed it to his lips. The point where his lips touched her hand, stung. She recoiled her hand away from him and looked up at him with her confused, bluish green eyes. She wore her hair in a similar style to how she wore it in high school, except much longer.

Her hair was braided, with wisps of her relaxed hair framing her face. She was still beautiful, even more beautiful than he remembered. Benito noticed that her eyes didn’t look as happy to see him as he was to see her.

“You don’t look happy to see me,” Benito replied, breaking the silence.

Sheba looked up at him, trying to keep her cool. She appreciated Benito chasing off Mrs. Callahan, but this was not how she expected to see him again. In fact, she didn’t expect to see him again. She’d spent three whole years of her life trying to hunt him down. She’d been unable to get in touch with him. There was no phone number, no mailing address, no social media that had worked.

From the moment he’d left American soil, Benito had been as good as dead to her. Their relationship had lacked closure that had screwed with Sheba’s head for a decade. She’d been pathetically in love with a ghost, a ghost who she eventually had to lay to rest. Sheba had properly come to terms with the fact that Benito was never coming back.

But here he was. So different, yet so similar to the boy she remembered back on the docks of their private country day school.

“I’m not,” Sheba replied flatly.

Benito took a step closer to her and Sheba took a step back.

“You’ve been gone ten years Benito,” Sheba replied.

Benito bit down on his lower lip. Sheba was right. His unceremonious absence from their relationship had probably cut Sheba deeply. He’d been hurt too. But he hadn’t been given a choice. And ten years later, he’d come back to America and she was the first person he’d tracked down — a decision that went counter to his mother’s wishes. Benito knew he would have to explain a lot to Sheba.

But he at least expected her to be interested in seeing him.

“I have a lot of explaining to do.”​

Sheba turned her nose up, “Don’t bother. Explaining would have done me a lot of good seven, eight years ago. Now? It’s too late Benito. Now if you’ll excuse me, my son’s waiting for me in the car.”​

She began to walk away from him, but Benito reached out and grabbed her arm.

“Your son?”​

Sheba turned to him and nodded.

“Yes. My son.”

“You’re married?”​

Sheba tried to push back the tears that were starting to fill her eyes. Just seeing Benito in the flesh was overwhelming. She was too emotional to deal with this. She didn’t know how he always managed to remain so cool and collected. She didn’t know how he’d managed to appear, ten years later and act like not a day had passed since he’d left. Sheba wasn’t that strong.

“No,” She said, wiping away a tear that had escaped, “I’m not married.”

Benito smiled, “Is it bad if I’m happy to hear that?”

He let go of her arm. Sheba tried not to smile. She had to stay true to herself. Benito couldn’t show up after a decade’s absence and weasel his way back into her life. No matter what his excuse was, the fact of the matter was at eighteen, she’d been heartbroken. There was no going back to that innocent, loving girl that she was when she had loved Benito Orsini.

“Please… Just stay away from me Benito.”​

“You don’t mean that!” He called after her as she walked away.

Sheba turned around and folded her arms, “I do. I really do. I don’t care what excuse you have for me. I’m not interested.”​

“Sheba! Wait!” He called, stopping her from walking away again, “I’m back. For real. The whole family is back. All the Orsini’s.”​

Sheba scoffed, “That doesn’t exactly make me more eager to listen to you.”​

“Maybe I’ll change your mind.”​

“I doubt it,” She shot back.

She had always been a spitfire. She had always been the one person who could change Benito’s mind, who would challenge him. It had been a long time, and he knew that. But still, Benito had expected a bit of a warmer welcome.

Maybe I underestimated how hurt she’d be.

That much was clear. Benito didn’t think there was much of a point in chasing her. Now, Sheba knew he was back in town and she could do whatever she wanted with that information. He’d catch up with her at some point. Benito knew that a decade had passed, but he didn’t think Sheba had changed that much. He’d find a way to get through to her, come hell or high water.

For now, he’d let her go, even if seeing her face had awakened feelings inside him he was sure would have been dead by now. Sheba Lewis. He chuckled imagining her as a mother. He’d never guessed she’d have a kid, at least not a kid by another guy. She was the first girl that he’d ever truly loved. She was the first girl that he’d properly made love to and felt those emotions coursing through his veins. She was special.

Benito smiled as he watched her get into her black SUV. He wondered what she did for a living or if she was still Percy Lewis’ little girl. She’d been born into money; Benito had a hard time imagining that she’d turned away from that life. And unmarried. Well, that was just dumb luck. Sheba was one of the most beautiful girls he’d ever met. What had been unexpressed during her high school days was fully expressed now.

She was curvy but slim, had long hair and those giant doe-like eyes in a color you usually didn’t see on women with skin so brown. Benito figured she must have been fending off proposals from the moment he’d set foot in Italy. Yet here she was — single. He wondered if it would be foolish to presume that he had a chance with her.

Perhaps his chances had been ruined long ago, just as he’d worried.

Once in the car, Sheba let out a long sigh.

“Who was that?” Zion asked.

Sheba turned to look at her son in the passenger seat. He’d just about gotten old enough that she’d let him ride in the front for short trips.

“An old friend,” She replied, keeping it short.

The last thing Zion needed to know about was her high school lover. There was no point in telling him a damned thing about Benito.

“Cool. Mrs. Callahan got real mad.”​

“Yeah,” Sheba replied, “But luckily, I sorted it all out.”

“Sorry mom,” Zion mumbled.

Sheba sighed. She wasn’t sure that Zion was really sorry about this. His behavior had been getting out of hand. And she blamed herself. Zion had no father figure in his life except Fletcher. And Fletcher certainly had a far firmer hand than she did. Her guilt influenced her parenting. That much was true.

Sheba looked over at her son. Zion had skin lighter than her own, with eyes like his father’s. When his hair was long, it was a light mongoose brown color. But he kept it cropped close to his head, so you could barely tell. Sheba leaned over and kissed her son on the head.

He pulled away in fake disgust and Sheba smiled. If only Zion knew how much he'd kept her going over the years. Perhaps then he’d realize that the moments she was strict with him were also out of love. Perhaps then, he’d realize that she was doing everything in her power to protect him and keep him safe.

“I want you to stay away from that man if you ever see him again,” Sheba said.

“I thought you said he was your friend.”​

Of course, Zion had to question everything she said. She was happy that he’d gotten her smarts, but his stubbornness tended to cause issues between them. Her father said it was due to her spoiling. But Sheba had always believed it important to allow her son to ask questions. She just wished that he hadn’t chosen this subject in particular.

Ten years later, she was surprised at how sensitive she was over this. Some wounds never completely healed.

“Well he’s an old friend. And that doesn’t mean I want you going near him. He’s from a family that isn’t very nice.”​

“Not very nice? What does that mean?”

There was no child friendly way for Sheba to summarize the Orsini family’s activities in their town. They lived outside of Boston to escape the scrutiny of the law. They were associated with the famous Bostonian Italian crime syndicate — The Riccardis. Except unlike the Riccardis, they were not so careless and déclassé.

The Orsini family was an aristocratic Italian family that could be traced back deep into the twelfth century. They were wealthier than any people had the right to be and they controlled not just the politics in Boston, but politics in DC too. Their donations could make or break elections in the US and in Italy.

That wasn’t the end to their affiliation. There were whispers of what the Orsini family had done over the years, whispers that Sheba knew to be true. She shuddered to think about explaining that to Zion. Suffice it to say, “not very nice” was an understatement. They were flat out dangerous.

“It means,” Sheba responded, “You listen to your mother.”

Zion mumbled something under his breath. Sheba didn’t bother disciplining him. She had enough on her plate. Now her mind was stirring about Benito Orsini. It didn’t seem believable that he was back in America, but there he was, right before her very eyes.

Sheba thought about all the hours and weeks she’d spent crying, wondering what she’d done wrong to chase her perfect, Italian boyfriend away from her. She’d prayed for a sign. She’d prayed for him to come back and for him to release her from the misery she was experiencing in their small town. After college, they’d talked about a whole life together.

Sheba had graduated by the skin of her teeth and once she was done, she’d had to come to terms with the fact that she was doing it all alone. Her life, her son, everything would be her responsibility and hers alone. Her father helped her, but Percy wasn’t the sort of man to do favors gracefully.

Sheba had been reminded day in and day out of how disappointing she was. When her share of her prosecutor father’s trust fund for her matured, Sheba was just glad she didn’t have to live under his thumb. With the dividends from her $5 million, Sheba was set for life. And so was Zion.

Of course, her father couldn’t help but have his hand in some of her affairs. He insisted on paying for Zion’s private school education and in training her son in soccer, violin, flute and swimming to see which one stuck. Over time, Sheba had grown used to her father’s overbearing assistance with parenting.

Still, she’d longed for love. She’d longed for a love like what she had with Benito. No other man had measured up to that pure, naïve teenaged love she’d experienced. Sheba knew she had to keep Benito as far away from her as possible. He’d run out of a chance for forgiveness over eight years ago. But damn, it was hard. All her memories of him were good ones.

Hell, when she was feeling particularly bad, she’d go back to her teen diary and read the entry she wrote about prom night. That night, she’d felt like a true princess. For once, she’d been seen for more than the class nerd, more than just one of the two black girls, more than just the prosecutor’s daughter. She had come alive in love because of Benito. But just as he’d raised her up in love, he’d ripped her heart to shreds.

Sheba didn’t know how to make sense of that.

Zion went to sleep early. He did all his homework and wrote letters of apology (required by the school) to all the victims of his little prank. The house that they lived in was another gift from Sheba’s father. Percy Lewis had purchased a colonial mansion built in 1765 with a totally modern interior for his daughter. Outside, he’d helped her redo the porch and set up a little table with four chairs around it for a glass of wine in the evenings.

As the sun set, the motion sensitive lights went on and illuminated the table where Sheba sat alone. Being a single mother, she’d grown used to time alone. She relished those moments of complete solitary bliss, especially when Zion was a noisier child. As hard as it is to believe, those times really existed.

Sheba looked at the expanse of her driveway. As much as her father got on her nerves, he’d taken care of his baby girl. The giant yard was the perfect place to host birthday parties, for Zion to run around and of course, for her to sit and think. In a different time, Sheba would have pulled out her journal to write a poem. She’d given up poetry. Weren’t poets supposed to be writing about love? It was hard for her to think about loving anyone but Zion.

There had been men in her life since high school, but none of them had met her son. And none of them had stayed very long. Sheba liked it that way. Even as she sat outside her house alone, she didn’t always feel safe here. Fletcher had insisted she get armed. Despite her fundamental opposition to guns, she’d agreed. Fletcher had pointed out many risks of her being up in that mansion alone, especially since her father was the target of a number of plots of vengeance.

When Sheba saw unexpected headlights — from a car that wasn’t her brother’s — coming up the winding road of her driveway, her hand fled to her holster. She didn’t care to be judged for staying armed. New England could be beautiful but the chilly nights could also possess an eerie air to them. She didn’t have the carefree spirit about the night that she did as a teenager.

The car was definitely unfamiliar — not her mother’s, her father’s, her brother’s or even a friend’s. Sheba stood up and pulled the gun out. She didn’t want to have to use it. But in an emergency, she knew she had what it took to pull the trigger. The black sedan stopped. Sheba concealed the gun behind her back.

The car stopped and out of it came Benito. Sheba breathed a sigh of relief and shoved the gun back into her holster. Annoyed and surprised? Yes. Scared? No. Benito was the most harmless member of his family. And unless he’d changed, Sheba doubted that he was a participant in his family’s business.

“Good evening Sheba,” He said.

Damn. That charming smile she’d tried so hard to forget pulled her back in despite her best efforts.

“Good evening,” She responded.

Benito started walking up towards her driveway. He seemed awestruck by Sheba’s house.

“Beautiful home.”​

“Thanks.”

Sheba still felt cold towards him. Not as cold as she did in the parking lot, but the history between them was still there. The lack of closure between them was still as palpable as ever.

“Where’s your son? With his father?” Benito asked.

Sheba could see he was still probing to see if he had any potential mates. She couldn’t figure out why. If there was one thing Benito had made clear since he’d first left a decade ago, it was that he wasn’t interested in being with her.

“No. He’s asleep inside.”​

“Your home is so beautiful… Colonial?”

“Yes,” Sheba replied, “But I know you aren’t here for small talk Benito. What is it.”​

“I promised you I would come back, didn’t I?”​

Sheba folded her arms, “Stop. We’ve been over for ten years. From the moment you took off from the States, I never heard from you again. You made it quite clear how you felt about me. I’m not interested in ‘closure’ anymore.”​

Benito could see the hurt on her face. If only she could realize that he’d experienced much of the same thing. If only she could see that he hadn’t left to hurt her.

“I’m sorry. Please Sheba… Give me a chance to explain.”​

“Well, it won’t make any difference now. So go ahead.”

Benito looked at Sheba. Over a decade, she’d matured beautifully. She was still not yet thirty years old, but she had a sense of maturity about her that he didn’t remember. In his absence, she’d changed. But Benito was willing to bet that beneath it all, some of the old Sheba remained. He could sense it. He’d always had an instinct about Sheba. That instinct had allowed him to push through all her rejections and finally make her his girl. Of course, that was years ago, but Benito felt he’d only become a more appealing prospect since then.

He began to explain what had happened to him. Benito told Sheba about how the first day he was back in Italy, his mother — Barbara Orsini — severed his connection to the outside world. For the summer, she sent him off to his grandfather’s manor where he was forbidden from leaving. The Orsini family, being of incredible means, had Benito trailed by a bodyguard at all times. His social life and communications were monitored the entire summer. He had no way of getting in touch with Sheba.

While they’d believed their relationship to be a secret, somehow, Barbara had found out and she had become so angry with Benito, she’d done everything to keep him from contacting Sheba. At Oxford, he was faced with the same level of control. Benito’s college experience wasn’t one of independence. He was being trained. As the sole heir to his father’s fortune and his father’s “business”, his mother felt it were her job to mold him.

No matter how hard he tried to reach Sheba, he’d been prevented. For years, Benito had mourned her. He’d promised that as an adult, he’d find a way to reach her again. But after university, with more freedom, he thought it would be too painful for Sheba, so he’d left her alone.

“I thought you deserved happiness,” Benito finished.

Once he’d told his entire story, Sheba didn’t know what to say.

“I never realized that Barbara had found out about us.”​

That was the best she could muster up. She trusted Benito. He had no reason to lie. Plus, his family was a major part of the reason they’d kept their relationship a secret in the first place. The Orsini family was notably insane, rigid and shut off from the outside world.

Benito grinned, “Mind if I sit down?”

“No.”​

“I have a bottle of wine in the car. Let me grab it.”

“Cocky,” Sheba replied with a smirk.

It was just like Benito. All these years later, there were still some ways in which he hadn’t changed.

As Benito walked off to his car, Sheba couldn’t help noticing that he had aged into his body well. He’d developed a sense of style, influenced by the chic but masculine European men he’d been surrounded by. His accent had changed immensely. He said some words like a Brit, and the rest of his English was lilted by his heavy Italian accent.

He returned with a nice bottle of wine. When they’d been together, both of them had been too young to drink. Once, Benito had snuck Sheba a beer from his family’s fridge but she hadn’t liked the taste. She mused about how much they’d grown.

“I brought Merlot,” He said.

“My favorite,” Sheba replied.

That was just like Benito too. He could always do these tricky things like guess her favorite kind of wine. Sheba wondered if her lingering attraction to Benito was real, or if this was just her body reacting to the fact that she hadn’t been with a man in a while. With Zion, she didn’t exactly have time for casual dates.

And she’d all but given up on finding a good man.

Sheba slipped inside and got out her crystal wine glasses. When she’d been twenty-five and unmarried, her mother had insisted she take the wedding crystal anyways. Benito poured the wine for both of them.

“I have so much to tell you about Oxford. And Italy.”

​“Oh yeah?”

“Yes,” Benito replied, “And I want to hear everything about how this town’s been since I left.”​

Sheba chuckled, “Does it look like much has changed?”

Benito couldn’t help but chuckle himself. Sheba was right. He had expected more change in a decade. But their small town had been constant over the years. He took a sip of the wine and watched as Sheba drank. She appeared to be enjoying it. But she also appeared to be pensive. And cautious.

“Are you upset by me coming here?”

“At first I was. But isn’t it better to let things go? Neither of us could change how things happened. It’s just good to know the truth.”​

Sheba was quiet again. She broke her silence by asking, “So how was Oxford?”