It doesn’t feel like an achievement at all. There’s a bad taste in my mouth, the aftermath of holding Rosa Fusco’s safety over Giovanni’s head.
I would never have hurt her.
But at least now, I don’t have to make that decision. I don’t have tochoose.
The breath that expands my lungs feels like the first true one I’ve taken in days. Warm hands cup my face, fingers stroking my skin, and I zero in on Dom, on the relief shining in his eyes, lighter than I’ve ever seen them. He’s so close that I can see the faintest specks of silver and blue in his gaze.
The gaze that dips to my lips. “Caterina.”
“Domenico,” I breathe. The air catches in my lungs, waiting.
All of me, waiting. Like I’ve been waiting forever,
But the smile on his face slips, his hands sliding away from my face. He takes a step back.
“We should go. It’s time for dinner.”
And I’m left to stare as he walks away from me.
He doesn’t look back.
Chapter thirty-two Caterina
Everyone is quiet at dinner.
So quiet, that when my stomach growls audibly, Luc turns his head to look at me incredulously. “What? I haven’t eaten much today.”
In fact, all I’ve had was that shitty yogurt. I’m starving.
Seated in what seems to be becoming my usual spot between Dante and Luciano, I glance over at the Asante table. I’m met with angry stares, but there don’t seem to be any terribly planned knife attacks heading my way.
It seems that Gio spread the word after all.
Dom turns away from speaking with Tony and climbs the stairs, placing my plate down in front of me. I pull it towards me eagerly – and then pause, staring in horror at the brown gloop awaiting me. “What… what the fuck is this?”
Dom is still chewing a mouthful of food, looking vaguely sick. “I forgot about the plan.”
“What pl–oh.”
This morning seems a lifetime away now.
“I have regrets,” I whisper sadly. “So many regrets.”
Dom swallows the lump of meat in his mouth. “I wouldn’t risk it.”
I look up at him mournfully. “They’re all going to try and kill me now.”
He frowns at me. “That’s not even funny.”
“It was a little funny,” I mutter. He heads back down towards the Crows, and I pick up my fork with a sigh. “Here goes nothing.”
“What did you do to the food?” Luc demands, and Dante turns to me. Stefano leans forward to look as I purse my lips.
“I thought it would be ironic,” I say weakly. “To make everyone eat crow. Literally.”
Specifically, the Asantes, but since we all eat the same unless we have a specific need, most of the room is now tucking into a pie made from the birds left on my doorstep.
Maybe it wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had.
