Mitch snorted and then bullied his way between Nemours and Violet. He had heard enough about the man to know he was dangerous. But Violet was in no danger. This bastard preyed on women who had the gift of dance running through blood and bone.
“I will not be staying long.” Nemours waved his drink, watching Scarlett continue the slow dance. “Though I could not attend the nuptials, I am man enough to offer my congratulations and agift.”
Our eyes met. His taunted; he hid something.
“A gift is appropriate for occasions such as these, no? I am saddened that this gift cannot be delivered today, but when you return from your honeymoon.” He raised his glass and smiled.
He drained the rest of his drink, handing it over to a server in passing. He made a sound of pleasure in his throat as he watched her. Then he turned to go, but before he did, he stopped next to my shoulder. Taller than him, I had to look down as he ran his mouth.
“You have won her—but nothing else.” His phony tone turned true, ruthless. The man I had been waiting to meet. “I see the implied threat in your eyes. Do not test me, Fausti. It is quite simple to hold someone under the depths of the water, is it not? Ah, but water under the bridge. The last time you came to see me we forged an agreement, an understanding, did we not? Butnotre belle danseusedoes not know about that.”
He referred to the first meeting we had, before I left Paris the first time. Things were said between us—he had people watching her at all times, people who wanted to protect her against any threats, threats that could steal his vested business, or so he thought—Scarlett Rose Fausti.
His business.My wife.
There comes a time in a man’s life when he knows instinctually what he’ll trade his soul for; give his life for; what will become the honor of his life. I had known since that night out in the snow that I’d die for the woman swaying in the candlelight across from me. Maybe even before then, though it had never registered as it did in that moment.
She was the only woman who held the power to brighten my darkness. She was the only woman who was able to steal my rib, going beyond flesh, deep inside of blood and hitting bone; ours was a connection that could never be severed or filtered out. The woman who had my honor now wore my rings and signed my last name behind hers, along with the vows I had made to her on holy ground.
That night out in the snow had changed me in more ways than one. It became the catalyst for all that would happen subsequently. One look and I knew that Scarlett Rose Fausti was trouble. There was something about her that screameddifferent—in a way that meant she would draw attention.
She was peculiar in the same way that a metamorphosis is. She drew me in, a powerful magnet, seizing my attention and then putting my heart at complete peace. The woman could make me weep with her graceful movements alone.
For a man like me—part beast, as she called me—that was rare. Therefore, if I noticed, others would notice as well. It had all started with that kid, Ace. A small-town punk who thought his balls were made of brass knuckles, until I broke his jaw with one blow. He was nothing but a boy. The rest wouldn’t be. My wife attracted fucking monsters.
Without a doubt, I knew that her love could kill me, and I willingly said yes to the free fall.
Yeah, giving my life in honor of hers came as a natural instinct. No thought, only pure feeling. But until this moment, I had never realized how fucking unapologetic I’d be if I killed in her honor. I’d take this rat’s heart without a second thought and never think about the snuff out again.
Nemours or anyone else, the name didn’t matter one bit.
I had never denied the blood that ran through my veins, but again, I had never felt it as I did in the face of this enemy.
Breaking eye contact first, Nemours blew a kiss to my wife. Scarlett stared at us, her face pinched. She called to Violet, handing over a sleeping Mary. Before she could come to me, Maja Resnik had come down for dinner, dressed in a pink gown. She took her granddaughter’s arm and the two ballerinas walked side by side toward the table, one a reflection of the other.
Scarlett looked over her shoulder, uneasy.
He waved at her with his fingers. “Your wife has beautiful breasts.” He sighed. “Her skin is perfect. The small beauty mark above her left breast—”he touched the spot “—is especially stunning. Did she not tell you? I watched her sleep in the nude.Art. Just as her dance.”
Before he turned to leave, he hesitated, gaging my reaction. I allowed him to get through the door before I followed. He whistled as he walked, not hearing me behind him. The gurgle that came from his mouth when my hands wrapped around his throat gave away his surprise.
Though he was shorter than me, he was no less stocky for it. He could’ve been a rag doll in that moment. His head slammed against the wall and bounced forward.
We were both hesitant to kill each other, moving around like two monsters stepping into the arena, trying to figure out the other's weaknesses. The thrill of the hunt is not all brawn. Similar to the hunt of the lioness, it was just as much of a mind game as it was physical violence.
Nemours was a small-time player with big friends. Which meant that he had someone to answer to. Whoever the kingpin was in his circle certainly knew about my wife and the amount of money Nemours assured him, or them, she could bring in.
Therefore, if I killed him in haste, the bigger fish might be worse than our current problem.The monster you know compared to the one you don’t.
This worked both ways.
If he killed me, she wouldn't easily cooperate, leaving him no choice but to coerce her with dirty means to get her to dance. He'd have a fight on his hands. My wife was one of the most stubborn women I'd ever met, but no match for him.
Then there was thefamiglia. Though we were estranged, they wouldn't accept the death of one of their own lightly. It would set a bad precedent. They’d take it personally.
It was one thing to have an issue in business, but another altogether to insult someone and make it personal. This was when it turned into a vendetta. Despite my refusal, Lucious Fausti had eyes and ears on me. He considered me his.
This situation would please him; if I needed help, I’d be indebted to them until they lowered me into the ground.
