From his position behind the wheel, I saw Fist’s eyes flick to me, then return to the road.
With my free hand, I hit the privacy screen separating us.
Fist was as loyal as they came, but even I wasn’t sure I wanted him to overhear what I had to say to my brother.
Rafaelle watched the screen until it reached the roof, then raised his eyebrow at me.
I flicked my gun’s safety back on and returned it to the holster beneath my left arm, a little shaken. It wasn’t the first time I’d threatened a family member with a gun. Hell, it was almost a rite of passage in my family. In Orazio’s book, you weren’t truly a man until you’d handed down your first pistol-whipping.
But it was the first time I’d been confronted with the unsettling possibility that my intent wasn’t entirely hot air and bullshit. That the thought of anyone – myself included – harming Maddelena in any way tossed a red haze of unhinged fury over me.
‘Talk to me,’ Rafa pressed softly.
I realised my fingers were trembling slightly where they rested on my thighs, and I clenched them into fists.
‘She’s…’ I ploughed my fingers through my hair, gripping a handful tight enough to make my scalp burn. ‘I’m not sure what she makes me feel but… it’s not… insubstantial.’
Rafa’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re saying you have a thing for her? Like some weakWest Side Storybullshit you’re going to let pass through you like a badly made cannoli or the more serious Godfather Three kind that’ll earn you a bullet between the eyes and plunge us all into a shooting and poisoning spree?’
I laughed, a little alarmed that the fuckingRomeo and Julietanalogy kept circling back to kick me in the balls. If Rafa could see it after just two meetings with Maddelena, how long before everyone dropped their own interpretation on things? How long before fresh vendettas were hatched by two bloodthirsty old men in the name of family honour?
Was I better off coming at this thing from a different angle?
The sucker punch to my gut gave me the answer I needed. And the answer to Rafa’s question. ‘Fucking hell if I know what the fuck I’m feeling, but it won’t fucking go away.’And I didn’t feel inclined to let it.
He raised his hands slowly, pre-empting an attack. ‘At the risk of you going through with shooting me, why don’t you just fuck her and get it the hell out of your system?’ He shook his head in bewilderment. ‘I mean, if you ask me, I’m hella shocked you’ve waited this long to go through with what you threatened her with in that warehouse. Maybe all this is… pent-up bullshit for her misleading you back then?’ His gaze probed deeper. ‘Is that why you didn’t do anything back then? Because it was more than just a dick-dip-and-bounce thing?’
I shrugged. ‘Maybe,’ I hedged, but the itch beneath my breastbone and the heavy stone in my gut screamedyes.
That, like it or not, Maddelena had bewitched me that night and whatever strain of witchcraft she’d used on me had only intensified since.Werewe falling into some macabre, modern-day Romeo and Juliet bullshit? Feeding off the danger because of the sheer homicidal lunacy even the thought of pursuing anything with her would birth? Was that why I hadn’t gone through with making her pay, because I was a little terrified the feelings she evoked in me went beyond just retribution?
Or did I know I would need to find a fucking counter-spell to release myself from said lunacy but hadn’t found the antidote yet?
I wasn’t about to say any of this to Rafa of course because I wasn’t some emo sorority chick high on ayahuasca bleating on about star-crossed lovers and witchy spells. And I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t shoot him this time if I said something stupid and he laughed.
But whatever it was, it’d started before she and her family threatened the dream I held sacred above all else. She’d dragged herself into the orbit I’d hedged on allowing her to occupy.
So… maybe Rafaelle was right. Not handing out retribution back then made me weak when I was nothing but.
Fuck her, get it out of my system.
And if it fails? Romeo and Juliet didn’t exactly walk off into the fucking sunset, and you enjoy breathing, no?
I was a master at pivoting and improvising. I’d had to be as the son and grandson of the powerful Cosa Nostra.
My fingers drummed on my thighs as I stared out of the window. The lights of Baku City were coming back into view. Roadblocks were fully in place to cordon off parts of the city that would turn into the racetrack. I should be concentrating on FP1 tomorrow.
Not the way she looked. The way she smelled. Hell, even the dainty way she ate her steak was fucking hot. And fuck yes, those hot tits.
I didn’t get a chance to see them, play with them and taste them all those years ago.
Porca troia, Rafa was right. She fucking owed me. My nails dug into my thighs as my cock thickened and jerked in eager agreement.
Hitting the button of the privacy panel, I felt Rafa’s curious gaze as it descended once more.
‘Fist, change of plan. Drop me off at Claremont Hotel.’
‘Nah, ignore that order, Fist,’ Rafa countermanded.
