Ales' POV

    After Rose relentlessly insisting, I called Marco and invited him to Blake and Ryan's place for dinner. The three of us were quickly ushered into their apartment and Rose hugged them both before handing them their presents. A man, who I assumed was Ryan, held his hand out.

    "I'm Ryan and you must be Ales," he said.

    I shook his hand. "I am. And this is Marco. I hope it's okay we invited him." I motioned to my friend who stood behind me.

    Ryan offered his hand to him as well. "The more the merrier." Marco's mouth was wide open and took a second to snap out of it his mind.

When Ryan turned away, I scowled at Marco. "What's up with you?"

"That is the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my life," Marco whispered, running his hands through his hair.

"And that man is straight and very engaged. His fiance is right there," I replied quietly.

Marco smiled again as Blake introduced herself to him. I turned to Rose, snaking my arm around her.

"It seems like Marco has a little crush on Ryan," Rose pointed out, grinning.

"Okay, let's get eating!" Blake exclaimed. We all followed her into the dining room where there was a spread of traditional festive dishes. "And I would like to let you all know that Ryan was responsible for dessert, so if anyone dies, it's his fault.

Ryan crossed his arms. "I'm a good baker, don't listen to her. Rose can attest to that."

Rose shrugged. "I'm not picking sides, but Ryan does make good brownies." We sat around the table and everyone started serving themselves and digging in.

Blake grabbed a bottle from beside the table, showing us all. "I may have splurged a little on a fancy red wine," she said. "Who wants?"

Ryan and Marco both handed their glasses to her. I looked at Rose who continued eating, then nudged her. "Wine?"

"I don't want any," she said.

I knew I was the reason she wasn't having a cup, which I shook my head. "I don't mind if you drink, Rose. Don't let me hold you back from having a glass."

She chewed on her bottom lip. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Rosa. Don't worry about me." I lifted her hand and kissed it.

She smiled at me before passing her glass to Blake. "I'll have some."

Blake poured the dark liquid, nodding towards me. "None for you, Ales?"

"I'm good," I said, picking up my fork. She smiled and we all continued eating. Ryan was telling a funny story but I wasn't listening, lost in my thoughts.

What am I doing here? I didn't have an answer to my question. I had no clue how I ended up in this situation but I knew there was no one to blame but myself. And as I sat next to the woman I cared so deeply about and surrounded about the people she considered family, I felt more guilty than ever before. I was disgusted with myself and it made my stomach churn. What was I doing to these people?

What was I doing to Rose? I didn't know what was going to happen in the future after she lost her job. Would I ever tell her truth? No, I couldn't. She would be devastated. And with her past... The pit in my stomach told me what I already knew. I single handedly ruined her life.

Rose placed her hand over mine. "Are you okay, baby?" she whispered to me.

God, I could barely look her in the eye. Instead, I stood up, pushing my chair back with a creak. "Where's the washroom?"

"Down the hall, the first door to the left," Ryan told me, his brows furrowed in confusion.

I didn't let him finish his sentence before I was off. I stumbled into the small bathroom, locking it behind me. I gripped the edges of the sink tightly, staring at myself in the mirror. My face was red, eyes filled with anger. Not at anyone, but at myself. I squeezed them closed, breathing heavily.

I thought about my mother and what she told me last night when I stepped out of the dance circle. I stood against the wall, watching Rose dance with my family, laughing. It felt too good to be true. She seemed to enchant everyone she met with her radiant smile and charming eyes.

"Do you love her?" my mother asked, suddenly appearing beside me. I glanced at her, swallowing hard, but did not answer. I didn't have an answer to her question. "I see the way you look at her. Alessandro, tu sei mio figlio. Ti conosco più di te stesso." (Translation: You are my son. I know you better than you know yourself.)

"Non so," I said to her quietly. "She doesn't know about the famiglia." (Translation: I don't know.)

    "I didn't ask about that, Alessandro. I asked if you love her," my mother said.

    "We haven't been together for that long."

    My mom scowled. "That doesn't mean anything. I knew I loved your father the moment I saw him."

    I frowned. "It's not the same, mamma."

    "Love is the same."

    Still, I didn't have an answer for her as I spotted Rose walking towards us. I snapped out of my thoughts and look back into the mirror, I knew my answer as much as I hated it.

I loved her.

    I loved every part of her and I could not think of a single reason that explained it. It was everything. I loved the good and the bad, but she didn't know my bad. The part of me she knew, wasn't my true self. She didn't know about the blood on my hands, the blood that I so desperately wanted to hide and forget about.

    I turned the water on and splashed some on my face, trying to bring me back to the moment. I exited the washroom holding my head high. I sat back down stiffly.

    "Are you okay?" Rose asked again.

    I swallowed. "Yes."

    Everyone was finishing up their meals and my appetite was long gone, so I pushed my near-empty plate away.

Blake sat back, drinking from her cup. "How's your case going, Rose?"

    Rose cleared her throat, shrugging. "It's not going anywhere. I should probably start looking for another job."

    My stomach dropped, but I kept my face still.

    "How long do you have left?" Ryan asked.

    "About a week," Rose said quietly.

    "You'll find another job easily, Rose," Marco reassured. I glanced over and saw his face tight, eyes focused on anything but me. I knew he blamed me too, and he had a right to.

    Ryan brought in a tray of cookies and a jug of milk. "It's cheesy I know, but you guys are going to love my cookies." He insisted we grab some dessert and head to the living room as they cleaned up. Marco got a phone call and stepped to the side.

Rose took a cookie and a mug of milk and we settled into the loveseat. She set her food down on the side table, taking my hands. "Tell me the truth, Ales. What's going on?"

"I'm fine."

"You're pale and your hands are sweaty. Do you feel sick?" She touched the back of her hand to my forehead but I moved away.

"Rosa, I'm not ill." I cupped her face. "I really care for you, you know that right?"

She smiled, her cheeks warming. She reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from my eye. "I do know that. And you know I feel the same way, right?"

I brushed my lips against hers, before deepening the kiss. Her reassurance relaxed me, but I could not explain why. No matter what she promised and told me she felt, none of it would matter if she found out who I was.

It was only a matter of time before she found out she was dating the Devil.

A/N: I don't speak Italian so my translations are definitely incorrect and I am happy to take any criticism from native speakers!