“Be my guest.”
“Settled. However, you have not set your price. If you should win, that is.”
Brando met my eyes for the first time. “You buy my wife out of a contract with a man named Olivier Nemours. I’ll buy it from you for hardly nothing.”
“That will take some considerable force. He is connected.”
“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.”
“A Fausti, through and through.” Rocco grinned. “Sì. I will see what can be done.”
“One more thing.”
“You are worth quite a bit, I am sure, but not much more than the contract. However, your wife—”
Brando didn’t allow him to finish. “My wife chooses the car I drive. After I win, it’s hers.”
Rocco laughed and clapped a hand to Brando’s shoulder. “Sì. Done.” He beckoned for us to follow them. “We can discuss the where and when later. Now, you still have two others to see. I am sure they will be as pleased as I am to meet you.”
* * *
I lived a thousand lives in the span of one day. And the sun was still out.
Brando drove Rosaria’s Ferrari back to Siena, the silence between us spanning the length of the trip. I fell asleep periodically, the weight of the day bearing down on me. The need to escape recent events and the tension in the car was overwhelming.
Nothing was settled between us, not a damn thing.
He kept his eyes hard on the road. I turned away from him. When we were about an hour away, he cleared his throat. “You lied to me.”
“I had secrets.”
This kicked off a shouting match that brought us to the side of the road, where our words came out hotter than bullets.
“Two weeks. Two weeks, Scarlett. That’s how long it took for you to involve yourself with one of the most infamous crime families in history. Two weeks for you to uncover that I have brothers from Luca Fausti, and for one of them to fall for you. The oldest, which makes him the leader—the one who eats fucking first after the hunt.”
I reeled from this newly acquired information. “Wait. One of the most infamous crime families in history?”
He gave me a look that conveyed exactly what he was thinking—yes, yes, that’s exactly who they are, naïve ballerina girl!
“How was I supposed to know?” I yelled. “I thought Luca was a racecar driver!”
“That’s the point, Scarlett. You can never—” he leaned over the steering wheel, pinching the bridge of his nose “—stay put. Nemours. Even back home, that little fucking kid, Ace. Here we are, all over again, except this time the stakes are higher. And I am so fucking sick and tired of men calling you names—angel,bella. What was it that Ace called you? Darlin’. It’s even worse when they take that tone with your name.Scarlett. I am sick and tired of them challenging me for mine!”
I went to touch him, but he jerked his hand, like I was scalding hot.
“Tell me what it is you do for them, ah?Teasethem.Dancefor them. One man must not be enough for you.”
He said it with enough suggestion that I had to stop myself from slapping him again. The weapon was pushed in too far, and I used my tongue as a whip, the memory of his smirk when I had suggested he could handle two women fresh in my mind.
“No,” I said, the retort almost automatic. “I've always wanted to be with two men at once.”
I didn’t mean it, truly. I regretted the words as soon as they were out. I wanted to retrieve them, gobble them down, choke on them. But it was too late. He glared at me dangerously, putting the car in gear, peeling out.
If the speedometer pushed it earlier, it had reached a level of insanity. There was no fear, though, not with him in control, and I looked out of the window, allowing the dips and turns to lull me into a numb haze.
If we’re going down, at least we’re going together.
We made it back to the villa in record time. He stared at me, rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb, until there was no choice but to look at him.
