With a Kiss

Her father murdered my uncle in front of me, starting a war between our families, and I learned from a young age to never trust a Paladino. But I never expected to be so captivated by the daughter of the very man I long to kill. The sight of her, dancing in another man's arms, ignites a fury so powerful it catches me off guard. My interest in her is dangerous, and the lines of my loyalty are blurring. I should hate her. I do hate her. At least, that's what I continue to tell myself.

For months, I've tried to stop loving her. Begged myself in the darkness of the night as I lay awake, to let her go. So badly, I've wanted to move on from the hurt inside and the love I still cling to, but I can't. Telling myself not to love her is like telling myself to stop breathing. Impossible. Unfathomable. But watching her prepare to marry another man is like a searing knife to the heart that keeps twisting. Beginning a new life in California seemed like the only option, but seeing her while I lie in my hospital bed, I can sense something is amiss.