What can I do to fix this for her? Make her smile again? I miss her easy smiles.
I know one thing that would make her melt like butter in a hot pan, and it isn’t anything to do with fucking her until she screams my name. I could repeat those words that were shining in her eyes the first time we had sex, the ones I shut down before she could even utter them. I had to. She’d only regret saying them someday. I’m not a man who deserves love, especially not from a heart as pure as hers. I never expected her to truly care for me at all.
Armando drops me at the door before hopefully heading off to fuck Gia out of his system, and I climb the stairs to our bedroom. Silently, I listen at the bedroom door before entering. I half expect to hear her crying in there and, fuck it, if I do, I might say the goddamn words she longs to hear just to make it stop.
The soft sounds I hear though aren’t sobs. It’s humming, a happy sound. I hope the sight of me doesn’t sour her mood. Pushing open the door, I walk in like there’s glass scattered across the carpet and whisper her name. “Caterina?”
“OH!”she shrieks, slamming a heavy book closed and whirling around to face me. Goddamn, that babydoll nightgown she’s wearing is designed to bring men to their knees. Her skin is noticeably pinker as Armando suggested. “You surprised me,” she stammers, trying to hide the book behind her. “How was work?”
Her nonchalant tone doesn’t fool me. “Work was work. What is that?”
She backs away. “Nothing.”
I narrow my eyes, pacing toward her. Is she up to something? Could her sweetness be an act after all? “Show me what you’re holding.Now.”
She obediently offers up the book, looking guilty. I half expect it to be one of her romance novels while the darker part of me fears it will be proof that damns her as a traitor. It’s neither. “Where did you get this?”
“I was helping Valdo look for something in the attic and found it. That’s Sil, Jr. and that’s you, isn’t it?” she asks, pointing at the picture of two boys; one a toddler being held by his mother and the older one standing beside his father many years ago.
I stiffen and nod. “My mother put this old photo album together.” I’ve often wondered if she meant to keep it as a memento once she escaped or if she was going to leave it behind, too.
“Why was it in the attic?”
“Because my father never goes up there. Frankie’s mother, my Aunt Beatrice, gave it to me after she died.”
Caterina moves closer, concern shining in her beautiful doe eyes. She sets the album aside and places her small hands inmine. When I meet her gaze, my heart flips inside my chest. I don’t like how…powerfullyshe affects me. It’s easier to be hard and indifferent.
“What happened to her? Your father married Bibi when you were little, but Frankie said your mother didn’t die until you were nine.”
“Frankie has a big mouth,” I grumble but Caterina just stares at me, waiting for answers. “She was going to leave him. She convinced one of my father’s men to help her. They were lovers, you see. They thought they could run from the Trio and escape this life. They were fucking idiots.”
“Was she planning to take you with her?”
That’swhat she’s curious about? “No. Why would she… she didn’t want his sons.” Her face crumples up like she’s going to cry.Fuck that.“Don’t cry,” I say, harshly. I don’t deserve her tears. “They weren’t successful. My father caught them.”
“Did he kill her?”
“No, he killed the man. As for my mother… this isn’t something I want to talk about tonight.” It’s been a fucked-up day as it is. “Are you still angry with me over Matilde?”
I can tell she wants to ask more about my mother, but she shakes her head, still holding my hands. “No, I’m not angry with you about that now.”
“You probably should be,” I mumble with that increasingly familiar sensation of guilt wrapping around my throat.
“I was mostly sad about losing the other girls’ company. You never came home last night. Why not?”
“You were angry with me when I left yesterday morning.”
“So, you don’t come home?” she asks, cocking her head to the side. “When we have a problem or an argument, it’s easier to resolve if we talk about it.”
“What do you want me to say, Caterina? Do I look like a man who has all this marriage shit figured out?”
She bites her bottom lip in amusement, and it teases a small smile out of me. “No, but I’d rather you come home and try than avoid me, Alessio.”
“Very well. I’ll do that next time, okay? Last night, I was at a place in the desert we use for… work.” From the age of sixteen, rarely has a day passed without me being expected to torture someone. I’ve never regretted it, never questioned it. I’ve relished the thrill and madness of it, in fact. But lately, there are things I would much rather do than torture and they all involve this woman.
“Did you miss me last night?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. She smirks and nods and why does that make my heart constrict in my chest? “How much?”
With a grin, she licks her lips and slowly sinks to her knees. “Let me show you.”
