Original Sin - Cast in Stone

Ciro nodded, disappointed with the tone of Augustin but without the luxury of being able to show it. He wanted to scream and look at Alessandra in the eye. Inside he was fuming, seething with anger. There was nothing he could do except try and plead his case, and even if he had convinced the Senator it would have been pointless since she had turned him down anyways. He had hoped to buy some time. Instead she had closed it in around his neck. He could almost feel it's fingers tightening around his throat.

"Very well Signore. I did not mean any offense and I appreciate your time. I understand that you are a very busy man. Perhaps if you need some work done you would consider calling on me. I would do it for no cost as repayment for your time."

Ciro was about to depart but instead took the time to look at Alessandra. Perhaps he might not get the chance again. If she were to become frightened and timid again it might be the last time he looked upon her. He looked across the room into her eyes.

"Signora, please excuse my bold assumption. You are clearly beyond my league, you have my humblest apologies."

Ciro bowed deeply and turned to the servant who had let him in. The servant led him to the door and nodded a farewell before closing the door, firmly, behind Ciro.

Ciro walked at a fast pace back to his workshop. He almost stomped everywhere he went, fuming, wanting to tear everything down in his path. That was his big gamble and Alessandra had, perhaps, played her hand before he could play his. When he arrived back at his workshop he grabbed up his chisel and mallet, but felt uninspired and weak. In fact, he felt tired. He sat down on his sofa and did not wake until nightfall.

Alessandra said nothing as she was addressed, but she did give him the courtesy of looking straight into his eyes, still not knowing what had possessed him to cross such a boundary. It was clear to her that his intentions had not been meant to offend her in any way, nor were they meant to expose their secret, but he had been too close. At that moment, more than anything, she wished her father would leave just so she could shake an answer out of him, and possibly strangle him for acting so impulsively. This carelessness was a side of him she had yet to see and she could only assume it had been due in part to the growing sentiments they had developed for one another.

Alessandra pursed her lips, wanting desperately to speak, but her father's presence prevented her from doing so. Instead, she tore her gaze from him, unable to watch as he was escorted out of the residence. She stood there frozen before she regained her composure where she then excused herself from the room.

The rest of the day she spent lounging around the house, resting and recuperating from her lack of sleep. Though she was unable to sleep for the very reason she had been too upset to do so, preoccupied thinking about what had happened, she had managed to recover some of her energy. Anger was an understatement and she would make sure to see him again, just to make her sentiments known.

So again, when the rest of the household was asleep she returned to his studio. She took a deep breath, calming herself and mentally preparing herself to address him. She would have to be calm and collected, to understand why he had gone there in the first place despite her telling him that their two lives could never cross. She hesitated. Maybe she had lead him to believe that it had not mattered to her and that they could find a way to have both. However, this was not the internal conflict she had been battling. Alessandra had a choice. It was either Ciro or her family, because she knew well the two could never mix; they were oil and water. Biting down on her lip, she overcame this thought and knocked twice on his door.

Ciro woke up at the pounding of the door, genuinely confused as to who it could be. He stumbled to the door, half dressed. Along the way he put on his shirt, leaving it opened at the front. As he opened the door his eyes opened widely to see Alessandra there in front of him. At first he was angry. He was desperately upset. He did not know if her father would have rejected his proposal or not, but he knew that everything he had tried to arrange had been shut down by Alessandra instead.

He sat there in the doorway, looking at her. He paused before letting his anger go. "I am sorry I was a fool. I should have told you what I was going to do. It was not fair of me." His shoulders slumped down slightly, they had been so tight that they ached from the tension. His jaw slightly unclenched, and he let out a long sigh.

He stepped forward slightly with his arms outstretched. He wanted to hold her, he hoped that she would allow herself to be held.

She felt impatient as she heard the shuffling inside as he approached the door. She took a step back when the door opened, an immediate and subconscious reaction to not wanting to appear so close at first sight, especially since she had been infuriated by what he had done. Her eyes immediately met his, flashing as the anger flickered in her eyes. Her arms folded across her chest as though demanding an explanation from him.

Alessandra hesitated to speak after he had spoken, and as genuine as his words had sounded, it hadn't changed the fact that he had broken his promise. She didn't react to his extended arms, even though part of her was telling her to accept it.

"What on earth were you thinking? You could have risked everything! And then you took it upon yourself to practically throw yourself at my father for your own self interests, for another meal on your table. You are no better than any other man I've met. All you care about is your own pride and recognition, and you don't give a damn about who you have to use to get there," she breathed, glaring at him intensely.

Ciro looked as though he had been stabbed in the heart with a fire-poker.

"Signora, how... how could you say that? I went there for one reason, to try and be closer to you. To try and bring us closer so that you would not have to worry about your father. So that... so that maybe one day you and I could be together. Openly."

Ciro left the door open and walked inside, sitting down on the sofa. He put his face into his hands for a moment. His shoulders lurched for a second, wracked by a single sob. He did not want to cry in front of Alessandra. He would not allow himself. Instead he picked up the mallet and chisel. It had been 2 days since he made any real progress on his statue, but tonight would not likely be a night for work. He dropped the chisel and mallet onto the table beside the statue and walked Alessandra into the room and sat her down on the sofa.

"Signora, I love you. I cannot bear the idea that we cannot be together. If the statue were to crumble to dust and my name be slandered across all of Europe, I would still consider myself the luckiest man in the world if I still had you with me. I may be a simple stonemason, but I know beauty and you are more beautiful than my hands or stone could ever reflect."

Alessandra's glare never faltered and her arms remained crossed as he pleaded his case. How was she to believe him when she witnessed his foolishness with her own eyes? If he wanted their relationship to advance to that point, to the possibility of being open without the burden of her father or the judgment of anyone among society, then why did he take it upon himself to go to her father in the first place? Perhaps he had not known better. Alessandra had known the type of man Augustin was and though she knew he would never oblige to such a preposterous request, perhaps Ciro possessed the hope that he might. Could she blame him for wanting her so deeply, enough to risk nearly everythig for the sake of calling her his own?

She remained silent, but her eyes never left his up until the point where he was guiding her inside almost against her own will to sit at his couch. "I believe you are much more infatuated with the idea of me than myself, persay. But if your words are true and you indeed feel these sentiments towards me, then I ask you to destroy the sculpture you have made for it is the original sin that has lead you and I to the path we are now on. If you love me like you say, this shall not be a burden to you."

She wanted to challenge him, to provide him with an opportunity to show her that he was loyal to her no matter the cost--even if meant sacrificing his next couple of months worth of meals. She wanted to see just as far as he was willing to go for her. Her expression never left her lips and though she didn't intend for him to destroy the work, she wanted to simply see if he would.

Ciro's eyes welled for a moment. He did not want to destroy what they had both worked so hard to achieve. He looked from Alessandra to the statue and back to Alessandra. He did not pause, but he was slower than normal in his movements. He knew what she was asking of him. He also knew that if she wished it destroyed, he would do so. Though it would hurt, the thought of losing Alessandra was far more painful than losing a slab of stone.

Ciro looked to Alessandra again and began to move slowly towards his Mallet and Chisel. He picked them up off the table and looked at them. He studied the white marble again. It was the best piece of stone he had ever worked with. The only one worthy of bearing Alessandra's likeness, yet he would destroy it to keep her.

Ciro put his chisel to the midsection of the statue and raised his mallet to strike the back of the chisel.

Alessandra shifted to sit at the edge of her seat, though her body did not show any signs of rigidity. Though her gaze appeared apathetic, as though it did not matter to her whether or not he'd accept her proposal, inside she was anxious to see what he would do. She tried to calculate his every step as he approached the marble, and with him the mallet and chisel that held the potential to destroy it all. As the tension rose, her body leaned forward with anticipation. Her hands gripped the side of the couch, digging into the plush material as she waited for the right moment to interfere, but still wanting to allot enough time so the task was effective. And when he readied his tools and she felt no longer at ease, her body had a natural reaction that let her know it was the right time.

Her body gave an involuntary jump, as though waking up from a dream where one might miss a step and fall to certain death. "Wait!" she called to him, her eyes widening as she rose from where she had been seated. She stood frozen several yards away, unsure of what to do or even say for that matter. Now that all doubt had been washed from her mind, leaving her with the reality that he would sacrifice nearly everything to have her, she felt incredibly juvenile for having brought him to that point.

"You really are a fool in more ways than one," she held back a smile, but found that she simply could not hide it, no matter how upset she was with him. Her lips parted and she exhaled a small laugh. Her arms folded across her chest and for the first time since she had been there, her expression softened. "What am I to do with you?"

Ciro swung the mallet with all his might when he heard the word "Wait!" He swung wide and struck himself on the top of his leg. He cursed violently and hopped up and down for a moment. He was lucky he hadn't broken his thigh. He groaned for a moment before rubbing the spot where the mallet had struck, already bruising.

Ciro looked in disbelief at Alessandra for a moment. Had she really tested him? It hurt, but he understood at once. He was happy he did not have to destroy something that had meant so much to him. He would have had to worked for 20 years to pay off his contract and the marble had she asked him to destroy it. He placed the mallet and chisel onto the table, and leaned against it for a moment to catch his breath.

"What are you to do with me? Well, perhaps help me to bandage this leg of mine. Then, I would like nothing more than for you to kiss me - just to let me know that you are alright. Well that and because I love you Alessandra."

Ciro hobbled over to Alessandra and sat down on the sofa, his leg up on one of the large cushions.

Alessandra gasped as she saw what happened before her, her hands immediately moving to cover her mouth. As he sat down on the sofa, she took a seat at his side, turning her attention to his injured leg as he perched it up among the large pillows that adorned it. She took extreme care not to injure him, but at the same time she wanted to see the extent of the damage. Her delicate fingers felt for any signs of bruising or swelling.

Though she was no professional on the matter, she had heard her caretaker on many occasions give the instruction over such injuries. "You must keep it elevated," she cautioned him in response to his words, blushing at the latter part of his words. She had almost chosen to ignore them, for now, having been preoccupied with his injury.

"It prevents swelling, I believe... Does it hurt still?" she asked him and she cringed when she heard how matronly she had sounded. "Come to think of it, perhaps we should bandage it. I may not have experience in bandaging, but I have seen it done before. Do you have anything I could use?" Her eyes scanned the room for some cloth she could use to tie around his leg. Eventually she did find some scrap cloth and she used it to wrap his leg, securing it with a few pins. "There... how does it feel now?"

Ciro was both humiliated by the injury and willing to suffer the indignity to be attended to by Alessandra's hands. The sound of her voice was soothing and the touch of her probing fingers was delightful, excepting when she touched his wound. His leg was bound well, and certainly didn't hurt any more than before she tended to it.

"That was not the first time I have struck myself with a hammer, I am afraid." Ciro chuckled, wincing as his leg throbbed. "I am a good stonemason, but I am also a clumsy one. There will be a hideous bruise, but there was no blood and no break. I will be fine"

He could feel the throbbing of the bruise, but nothing had been broken. He was certain of that. He would just have to be careful for the next few days. The one thing he could guarantee is that he was going to bump that leg on everything at the right height over the next couple weeks.

"I would rather a hammer to my leg than the thought of losing you for any reason, Alessandra."

Alessandra bit her bottom lip to stifle a laugh and honestly, she was not surprised that it had not been his first time striking himself with his hammer. Though he had never come across as clumsy, at least not in her eyes, what she had known of him was enough; a person that tended to act out of impulse would definitely encounter certain mishaps along their way, and he was no different. She gave him a reassuring nod. He would be sore, but he would heal with time.

"You might want to give yourself time to recover. Perhaps even some time away from your work so you can rest," she suggested, glancing over at the unfinished marble which was starting to vaguely resemble her more and more each day. If it were up to her, she would make him take time away from the statue. Since before the day she had met him he had been obsessing over his project and it brought her to wonder what he was like when he wasn't so preoccupied with it. Her attention returned to him when he spoke again.

"You can't possibly mean that," she teased, pursing her lips as she pondered the idea. "Come to think of it... I think I would rather lose you than to suffer such a miserable, dreadful fate," Alessandra added dramatically, though it had been hard to keep a straight face.

Ciro sighed contentedly, in spite of the pain. It was good to see Alessandra smile. It was good to see the colour in her lips and her eyes bright again.

"Perhaps it is time I take a break for a day or two from my project. Though I love my work, it has been some time since I stopped working on it. Perhaps for the next couple visits I could concentrate on you, and you alone. I would love to be able to just sit and learn about you Alessandra. I would love to learn how I became so blessed to have you in my life. I would also love to think of a way to make you my own."

Ciro looked up at Alessandra from his reclined position. He reached up and stroked her face with his hands and smiled.

'I know it can be done."

Alessandra's smile widened at the thought of Ciro taking a break from his work and all to give her the attention she had craved from him, an attention that was not as distant as an artist and his muse, but instead one that two lovers might share. She could see that he was making a genuine effort to learn everything he could about her, and she too in return wanted to learn whatever information he would want to disclose of himself. Alessandra would not force any information he was not comfortable sharing and she expected him to show her the same respect--though she couldn't think of anything that would prohibit her from doing so. Though it was unconventional, she would open herself like a book to him and allow him to learn anything and everything he wanted to know.

She would have melted under his touch if she could. She moved her hands to his, holding them against her face and absolutely loving the feeling of them there. He was filling her with the sense of hope she had lost and continued to lose everytime she left his side and returned to the reality that was her family, her life. He reminded her that in fact, it could be done, and that against all odds they would end up together even if at times it felt as though they may not.

Alessandra nodded assuringly, confirming his words to him and to herself. "I refuse to have it any other way," she whispered as she gazed deeply into his chestnut colored eyes. She then smiled warmly, bringing her a hand to her lap and rested the other on his knee, not forgetting his injury.

"I have an idea," she said after awhile, sitting up straighter. "Let's play a game. Ask me anything you want to know about me and I will ask you a question in return. The rules state that you are not obligated to answer that which you are not comfortable, but I think it will be more interesting if we are honest with each other. You can learn so much about a person that way, you know. So what do you say? Shall we give it a go?"

Ciro smiled weakly as she held his hands to her face. He wanted to sit up but the heavy throb coming from the muscle on the top of his thigh was almost blinding. He held her face gently and hid his own face when he could no longer bear the pain without a wince. The throbbing would go away, perhaps a glass or two of wine would be of help.

"I would love to play your game, dearest. I would love to learn of you and your family. I would learn more of you just to learn how I can keep you near. But first, if you would be so kind as to pour this cripple of a stonemason a glass of that fine, red wine. It would loosen my tongue and dull the throbbing in my leg." Ciro's slight wince turned into a grin. "Perhaps as you go about getting us some wine you can answer my first question. The wine and cups are in the pantry. My first question is this: what is your family responsible for? What does your father do, specifically?"

Alessandra did not hesitate to do as he asked. She stood from where she had been sitting, gracefully and cautiously, not wanting to inflict any more pain unto his injury. She went over to the pantry where she found the wine and glass. She sat the two down on the table where she then proceeded to uncorked the bottle. Though she was not very familiar with the process herself, she had seen on many occasions how the wine was brought over to her father. The smallest amount would be poured into the glass before it was presented to the head of the table. Upon approval, more would be served and distributed among the guest. Since there were no guest, she assumed it was still customary to present it to him.

"Responsible for?" she repeated to herself as she handed him a glass, holding the bottle in the other hand. She held it out to him, waiting for some sort of approval before she would pour more into his glass. As she waited, she tilted her head. "Well, father is responsible for nearly all government affairs in Naples. Military and economic... I suppose he has to make sure there is peace and that all citizens abide the law. He responds to the Republic in Roma, but he is capable of making decisions for Naples in the case of an emergency without having to consult the senate. He is the voice of the people of Naples and he votes on their behalf, so they too are represented in the eyes of the powerful. It is actually very remarkable..." she beamed as she finished speaking of her father, holding the bottle with two hands now.

"My family is responsible for nothing save maintaining a respectable image among society. What about you? What are you responsible for?" Perhaps he would not have an answer. Perhaps he was not responsible for anything at all, except himself. She was curious to see what he would say.

Ciro sipped the wine for a moment. Normally he would struggle with things to say, but in this case he had a strong opinion. He had been taught much during his apprenticeship. Those things he learned about his responsibility as a stone-mason were well impressed upon him.

"Ah! You don't know what you are asking me, Alessandra. I am responsible for many things. Firstly, I am responsible to those who are my patrons. Whether it be the church, or the rich or even inspiration itself, I have a duty to represent things as I see them through my own eyes. I am responsible for helping the world to look at things in a new way. Art creates new values my love, and with them we know more and more of the mind of our Creator. I am also responsible for my own art. If I do poor work, it reflects on me. My work is meant to be judged, much of the time by people who have no understanding of what I have done. Finally I have a responsibility to you, though you are a muse - to me you are much more. You are a source of life that I have never known. You are my priority, and you are here by choice. My art is not given the same luxury." Ciro smiled. "Art is responsible for many things and artists are always the first to hang from the gallows for heresy, so we who are artists or artisans must tread carefully."

Ciro took another large draught of wine and considered his next question.

"So my turtledove, tell me, if you could have anything in the world, what would it be? What would make you happiest?"

Alessandra could sense the passion in his voice as he explained to her his responsibilities. His response had brought a warm smile to her lips and she realized that she couldn't imagine him doing anything else in his spare time but his artistry. She certainly could not imagine him being a politician, or even a maker for that matter. Perhaps he was suited to be a scholar? But even then, she was educated enough to know that the limitations of being a scholar would make him unhappy. As far as she knew, they were even restricted in their own schools of thoughts. Alessandra had heard of one man, for example, had been undergoing through a similar ordeal. She believed her father had said Galilei, or something of the sort.

His question had caught her slightly off guard. She tilted her head in thought, chewing on her bottom lip. "I have never given the idea much thought, but I suppose if I could have anything in the world I would want to travel. It would make me very happy. I think I'd want to go to Rome again...father is very strict with taking us there because he says it's dangerous. Have you ever been?"

Ciro shook his head.

"Like many of my ilk, I do not get opportunities to travel often. Especially since my workshop is here. Artisans, unless they become renowned, seldom get the chance to see the world. I was, however, lucky enough to see the Sistine in Roma. I was a boy and the long journey was little to my liking. When I saw what Michelangelo had done, however, I was awestruck. The pillar work and the statues of the Vatican, it was though God had brought life to everything in those sacred halls."

Ciro sighed, lost in memory for a moment.

"After that I was in love with art, but as I grew older I fell in love with Stone. Now the farthest I have been is to a couple fishing villages on the west coast, mostly with friends. Perhaps I too, will be lucky enough to be selected by the Vatican to do work for god. Since I cannot preach, perhaps I can use stone to bring others to pray who would rather see the works of god rather than hear about them. How about you, dove, have you traveled at all?"

"Yes, they are beautiful. I have seen his works only once before," she beamed as he spoke of Michelangelo. Even at the age of thirteen she had remembered how inspiring the Sistine Chapel had been and how she swore she would always return to see the works again. "I can see where you get all of your passion from. It is a good thing you are so talented in your craft, especially because I, quite honestly, do not think you would be much of a preacher," she laughed, though she stifled it when she bit her lip.

"I have been to Florence and Venice once or twice and when I was younger we went to Sicilia to visit my mother's mother before she passed away. It has been so long since I have traveled, it's really a shame. There is so much to see, but father says times are different. Cities are much more dangerous so I doubt I will be going anywhere anytime soon," she finished somberly, sinking back into the sofa as she folded her hands on her lap.

Silence lingered between them for a few brief moments. Her eyes shifted over to him and she sat up again before she spoke. "Tell me, an artist like you, so full of passion and adventure...I'm sure you have had many lovers in your day," she commented curiously, though it had mildly resembled a question. She was keen on getting a response out of him, one where she could learn more about his past and the sort of lovers he did have. Deep inside she housed a secret desire to find out the type of women he did court simply to see if the bore any resemblance to her.

Ciro blushed a little, nervous, but not daring to lie to Alessandra. "Honestly, I have not been on my own for very long. I spent many years within the walls of the guild. Art was to be my love, and only after I had established my love for stone was I to establish my love for another. You, you came along earlier than I would have guessed, but if I knew then about you what I know now, the wait would have killed me. I have had only one previous lover, a woman who modeled for the painters. I never worked with her. She said she could never find a strong man among the men who chose the brush. She said that some even preferred the company of the other craftsmen." Ciro looked shocked. "Can you imagine? Anyways, she came to me one night, both of us besotted with wine. We met a few times after that, but I was sent out to begin my career and she stayed behind. She was a pretty woman, but paled in comparison with you. I am still amazed you are here before me. I can only imagine that you have been chaste since you are the daughter of someone so important, but still, have there been any flames of passion in your own life?"

Ciro looked at Alessandra intently. He was a little intimidated by her and her beauty, as she could literally have any man she wanted. Would she want him, or would she one day realize that she was above him? Ciro pushed these thoughts away as he waited for her answer.

Alessandra averted her gaze from him as he spoke. She was not surprised to learn that he had, in fact, had another lover prior to meeting her. His explanation, however, provided no insight into her character besides the fact that she appeared seemingly attracted to him due in part to his craft. Alessandra pursed her lips, jealousy coursing through her veins. It was only natural for a woman to feel such a way when her lover spoke of another, especially when mentioned the that she was a beautiful woman at that. Perhaps she did not know how to differentiate between her two careers, model and a common wench... she thought to herself, though she would never dare say such vulgarities aloud. No, Alessandra would not comment on this woman. It was a lost cause as he probably had not seen her in years.

When he directed another question at her, it was apparent there was a change in her demeanor. A blush spread over the olive skin of her cheeks. She had never been asked a question so private, so intimate that she almost did not know how to answer it. "No, there have not been any 'flames of passion," she said almost mockingly, more so to relieve the stress from herself. "I have always been told that marriage is a responsibility, one that I am expected to preserve myself for. My sisters always told me it is not about love more than it is about fulfilling a duty to my family," she said quietly before meeting his gaze. "So what is this ingenious plan you have schemed to be with me? I am curious because with a hurt leg I'm afraid you are as defenseless as a poor rabbit in the wild. Don't forget...my father is a strong man," she teased, a smile tugging at her lips.

Ciro was a little shocked. While she may be pure and still a maid, she must have had someone she had fancied. It was rare to find someone so sheltered. Ciro thought to himself that there must have been someone in her past. Then again, perhaps not. Being the daughter of an important man such as her father obviously lead to a sheltered life. Perhaps too much so. He wondered if she was even permitted to leave the house without an escort. He had obviously been lucky!

"Ah, my leg. While I am wounded I am certain that I will be able to resume work soon. Though I will be sore and I will moan, I will think of your tender care and I will allow myself the indignity of being doted on, especially if it is your sweet hands that care for my body." Ciro pantomimed with a dramatic flare. "Oh I am now smitten in both my heart and my body!" He grinned coyly.

"As for my plans for your father, I am certain that there are ways to persuade him just as there are any other politician. We simply have to find the thing that your father would want in exchange for what you want. There must be something that motivates such a man. I would have to guarantee that I would care for you as well as he does, and there are many other things that he would want besides. Tell me, what would your father want? What would he need to be assured that you were safe in my hands and that both your life and his would benefit? There must be something..." Ciro wracked his brain, trying to rationalize with a man he had met only once and who had bid him to leave his house.

Alessandra found his eccentric expressions and his words irresistibly humorous. She laughed wholeheartedly and she wondered if his innuendo had been intentional. Her sapphire eyes softened as they met his, finding his grin simply irresistible.

"No one could persuade my father, not even God himself. There is not a single thing in the world that could deem fit for such an exchange, at least not in his eyes. And if there was, it would be something neither you or I could ever possess. It would be something extraordinary, more exquisite and far more beautiful than I or any other woman in all of Italia. Father would want you to be the son of a politician, the ruler of the Republic of Italia, and even then you may not be worthy of his youngest daughter. This is not about safety," she said with a frustrated sigh.

"It does not matter to me. I am tired of this life....a life of secrecy," she whispered, her eyes scanning his. "-But if I am to marry Lorenzo Malatessa... I would prefer to give my soul and body to the the man that possesses my love. I do not believe either will interfere with my duty as a wife." Her expression was pained, but she had meant every one of her words even if she felt compelled to get on her knees and pray for forgiveness. Would God forgive her for giving herself to the man she loved even if fate had meant for them to be apart? Did he not forgive all of his children, even the ones who murder and steal? It was evident that she understood the severity of her words, as well as the consequences, but as she had concluded, there were far worse things in life.

"Will you take me as your own?" she asked softly, though her words were bold.

Ciro looked at Alessandra. He could never turn her away. He wanted her. No, he needed her. He was tormented with what might be and what certainly would be. At the end, he wanted her. Nothing was promised to anyone, ever.

"Alessandra, I would. I would take you as my own. I will take you as mine in the hopes that you will be mine, forever. In not only our eyes, but in the eyes of god and the eyes of maybe even your father one day."

Ciro looked into the eyes of Alessandra. He wanted her to know what she was offering and he wanted her to know what he wanted to give her. His hands reached up and stroked her hair behind her ears and looked into her face. She was gorgeous, a beauty that could stop time; a beauty so perfect that he wanted to capture it and keep it forever as his own.