“Awe, aren’t you two just cute. Have you forgotten we could be facing death for betraying our Don and Donna?” He whisper yells.
I don’t respond. I know nothing I say will settle his nerves. In fact I may just send him to a nervous breakdown by saying the wrong thing.
The click of heels across the marbled floors alerts me they’re close. One never accompanies without the other. They’re glued at the hip. And now I understand why.
Pietro stands ramrod straight. Imogen presses into me tighter and I reassuringly rub her arm.
Constantine and Carina come hand in hand. The most powerful couple of the Italian Mafia. Rulers of the criminal underworld. Their faces are unreadable. I try to decipher any hidden meaning from their blank expressions but I come up with a loss.
A chill resides in the air. Tension lies heavy and thick. Carina’s eyes make a perusal of Imogen and I. They scrutinize every detail. And they zero in on the ring upon her finger. Constantine however has kept his eyes on me.
“Rico,” he addresses me coolly.
“Don Constantine,” I acknowledge him with a nod of my head.
“Pietro.” His voice has dropped to a colder degree.
“Don Constantine,” he breathes and lays the same respect with a nod of his head.
He cocks his head to the side. A curl on his lip. “You have the audacity to come into our home after you have done and betrayed me,” he sneers. His eyes flick to Imogen’s ring and her hand forms into a white knuckle clenched fist. My little warrior is awakening. He draws the gun from his inner holster and points it at my head. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now?”
I’m about to offer my response when the unthinkable happens. Imogen’s hand snakes inside my inner suit jacket and she takes hold of my own gun. Knowing weaponry herself she disengages the safety, poises her finger on the trigger and points the gun at Carina’s head.
Her voice is dark and malevolent as she threatens him, “You kill who is most precious to me and I will kill who is most precious to you.”
Constantine’s eyes blaze with fury. His anger is palpable. Pietro begins to pray under his breath. “Did you just threaten to kill my wife?”
“Did you just threaten to kill my husband?”
And while I am bursting with pride for her not only her fierceness and bravery but also her possessiveness of me I am heavily worried for her life. If she had pointed the gun at him it would be entirely different. But she pointed at her. His world. His entire reason for existing.
“You will lower your husband’s gun or I will gladly take action by blowing your hand off,” he seethes.
Her aim stays steady and true. Not once does her arm shake under fear. “You lower yours first.”
He scoffs. “Who the fuck do you think you are to make demands? Least of all to me?”
She proudly states, “I’m Imogen fucking Maroni. We had come here in peace. But if you are unwilling to listen and are unwilling to see the honesty and good intentions of my husband for not only me but also your Famiglia then I will not hesitate.”
“You’re brave, Imogen,” he comments with a sinister smile. “Seamus’ stubbornness runs in your blood.”
“And so does my love for Rico.”
A standstill happens between them. If I didn’t know any better I would believe we have travelled back in time to old westerns.
Carina’s hand comes to wrap around Constantine’s lip. There’s a knowing grin on her lips as she regards Imogen with impressed eyes. “Lower your gun, Constantine.”
He keeps his gun on me but gives his attention to her. “Why on earth would I do that?”
“Because her love for him is true.”
“And what if this isn’t all just a ruse on her part?” He argues. “What then?”
“Then we kill her,” she says easily. A red haze blurs my vision. I fight to remain still and not take action. She regards Imogen once more. Defending me as if it’s her duty. “But I don’t think that will be necessary. Will it, Mrs. Maroni?”
“No, it will not,” she agrees coolly.
“Lower your gun, amore. She is not our enemy. And neither is Rico or Pietro.” Her voice is calm, collected.
