He glowers at me. “Of course I do. I was angry, and I took it out on you, you stubbornprincipessa. Youinfuriateme.”
“Ah,” I say wearily. “Well, that’s fine then. Glad to know that your anger issues are my fucking fault, Dante. All is forgiven. Happy to be your verbal punching bag anytime.”
He groans then, rubbing his hands down his face before he responds. “I’m fucking this up, but I’m trying to apologise, Cat. Iamsorry. So fucking sorry I said that. Of course it’s not true.”
Pursing my lips, I glance out to the living room. “Even if it was, you don’t get to judge me for what I do with my own body. If I want to fuck my way through half the campus, I damn well will.”
Red flag to a bull. He takes a step closer, brows dipping. “You damn well willnot.”
God save me from the possessive assholes around me. “I’m not having this discussion with you. Consider me sufficiently exhausted from your presence. Leave. Now.”
“Fine,” he snaps, stalking past me. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”
He slams my front door behind him, so hard the walls rattle.
“Cretino,” I hiss, slamming my bedroom door even though he can’t see it. It still makes me feel better. “Cazzone.”
Fuckingmen.
Chapter twenty-one Domenico
Bea puts another plate of food down in front of me, and I have to protest, my stomach groaning. “I can’t possibly eat anymore,sorella. You’ve fed me enough to last the rest of the month.”
She swats the back of my head in response as she walks away, and Pepe laughs. My sister’s husband is a good man, low enough in the hierarchy to escape most of the political bullshit that comes with it. Something my sister is grateful for. “I would finish your plate, Dom. She’s making up for the time since we last saw you.”
Guilt at the reproof in his words has me digging in. I haven’t been home for a while, too wrapped up in Caterina and the constant fucking headache of trying to keep her safe. Before that, I had no choice, trying to keep the Crows afloat while she was gone.
It’s been… months, actually.
A mournful wail rises up from the other room, and Pepe slips from his seat with an apologetic murmur. I wait until he reappears, cradling the baby in his arms. Alessia makes another frustrated noise, and he laughs as he props her up on the table. She kicks her feet out as he curves one arm around her protectively and continues eating with the other. “She’s growing up too fast.”
“She’s sitting up now?” I ask, watching the little girl wave her fists. She eyes me uncertainly, and I have to smile.
“She is. And she crawls, when she has a mind to,” my sister answers. She scoops Alessia up, cooing to her, and the baby laughs joyfully. “Don’t you,tesoro mia? Perhaps your Uncle Domenico would like to hold you while I eat. Since he’s sofull.”
I open my mouth, but my sister expertly wrangles Alessia into my arms, sitting down beside me with a wink and a reassuring pat to my arm. “She doesn’t bite.”
I wouldn’t be so sure. The little girl settles against my chest, a soft, warm, curly-haired bundle in her flannel dress. A bright ring of green stands out vividly around her hazel irises as she stares at me. Experimentally, I hold out my finger and she follows the movement, grabbing for it and gripping on. A happy little gurgle comes from her chest, and she smiles up at me, wide and gummy.
So innocent, it makes my chest hurt. She feels out of place in my arms, like I might accidentally hurt her, so I stay still, letting her play with my hand as she pushes my fingers apart and closes them again, over and over.
“That’s one hell of a grip you’ve got there,piccolo. Just like your mother.”
Bea laughs, leaning over and running her finger over Alessia’s cheek. “She will be a heartbreaker, this one. So, am I allowed to ask why you’ve deigned to visit us lowly mortals?”
My cheeks redden. “Bea.”
“Bah.” She waves her hand carelessly. “I know, I know. Busy men and their busy lives. The Cosa Nostra is not forgiving with its needs. Pepe barely gets home in time to eat these days.”
My eyes move to my brother-in-law. He’s watching his wife, but he shakes his head the tiniest amount. So I don’t enquire, instead teasing the sister who raised me after our parents died when I was ten. Alessia’s grip slowly slackens on my finger, her eyes sliding closed as her cheek rests against my heart.
I wonder if she can hear it.
“Here,” Bea whispers. Carefully, she lifts the little girl into her arms, leaving a cold space behind. “I’ll take her to bed, leave you to talk.”
Her hand brushes Pepe’s face and he presses a kiss to her palm, sitting back as the door closes softly. “This is not a good time, Domenico.”
“I’m here for information.” My hands tap on the table. “There is a disconnect between the campus and the family. What’s happening?”
