“No,” Romeo said, his eyes never leaving mine. “Do not leave, Sissy. Stay with us.”
“Brando?” Scarlett whispered.
“Stay, baby. He wants to ask you something.”
He refused to look at her. Instead he focused his eyes on mine; they were so dark, almost fathomless, and the amount of rage in their depths was immeasurable. His eyes were mine.
“I called her to me, the night on the boat. Remember, brother? I called her to me by talking about her. They know, don’t they?”
“Romeo—”
He laughed, mirthless and almost demented, slicking his wild hair back. “She got me, didn’t she? The first one ever. Too soon. It was too soon.”
“No,” I said. “Another month and it would’ve been too late.”
“I will kill him if he touches her.”
I didn’t turn from him, but I could feel Scarlett’s eyes boring into my back. Brandon Stone. She knew the stakes. She knew we didn’t make idle threats.
Romeo’s body hummed with ferocious intent. He vibrated with intensity. I took the few steps to bridge the gap, set a hand around his neck, squeezing. His skin was slick and hot.
I nodded. “You will have her.”
“How do you know this?”
I touched his rib. “She can’t steal it back. Once she returns it. You won’t allow it. Love means we have to fight for the right to have it sometimes.”
He took my shoulder and squeezed, like he could siphon whatever resolve he found inside of me. His head dipped for a moment before he moved. He stopped in front of Scarlett and ran a finger down her face, his eyes tender. “I do not need you to tell me,” he said. “The heart does not lie. She is mine.”
“Romeo,” she whispered and set her hand to his cheek.
He looked at me. “I cannot even imagine the strength it takes to leave such a woman to my care. Yours. I understand now. You are stronger than me,fratello.” He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek, leaving a streak of blood on her face, and then went back into his cottage.
I stared at the closed door for a while, not feeling Scarlett’s hand on my arm until she called my name.
“Get cleaned and get dressed,” I said, not looking at her. “I need out.”
Out of Ireland. Romeo was the reason we were meant to be there—not my wife’s fear of a fucking parade. She could go to a million of them and the nightmares wouldn’t stop. She was never truly afraid of the show, but of what was to come.
Part III
Chapter Sixteen
Scarlett
It was late August, and Dario and Carmen were married at a castle an hour outside of Rome. Along the seashore of Lake Bracciano, Castello Odesscalchi was a fourteenth-century fortress that held at least a thousand people and was truly a site fit for a prince and his princess. The ceremony was held under the castle (we had to take a secret tunnel to get there) in a consecrated church, where the couple only invited their closest friends and family to attend. Hundreds of candles burned softly in their holders, giving the couple an angelic glow.
After Carmen had gotten sick, she realized she couldn’t live life without him, didn’t want to, and that was that.
She looked resplendent in an ivory Alençon lace gown that showed off all of her curves. The gown featured a bateau neckline and mermaid train. A deep V in the back came down into a stunning bow, its thick lace ties draping the floor, longer than the train itself. A matching lace veil covered her face. Her thick black lashes blinked against the draping while her red lips whispered timeless vows.
I sniffed and held Brando’s hand tighter, remembering our own wedding day. He held tight, too, and leaned over to kiss my cheek. His dark eyes softened in the glow of the candlelight, the same tenderness present as when he had spoken his vows to me.
“I wish your family could have been there for us,” I whispered, using my husband’s handkerchief to sop up the tears that overflowed.
Taking the cloth from me, he gently dabbed so I wouldn’t smear my makeup. “Yeah,” he whispered back. “Then maybe they’d believe I’m your husband. Each one of my brothers wanted a chance with you. Countless cousins. Some of the old uncles. Maybe even a few aunts. The one with the mustache for sure.” His eyes went to the ceiling, thinking of more people to name. I lightly jabbed him in the ribs to shut him up.
He grinned at the jab and then turned toward me, the same look still in his eyes. He came in even closer, his cologne like rapture under my nose, his breath light in my ear. “Il giorno in cui il mio cuore cominciò a battere.”The day my heart began to beat. “Il giorno in cui ti ho promesso la mia vita.”The day I promised you my life.
