He wasn’t expecting it; neither was I. We stared at each other in stunned silence for a moment.
He swallowed hard, the bob of his throat increasing the seriousness of his eyes. “Tell me why you wish to know this,bella.”
“Morbid curiosity.” I shrugged. “If you saw hell, I’d ask you about that too.”
“Myfratellowas right about you.” He sighed. “You are too curious for your own good.”
“It’s a genetic defect. I can’t seem to help it.”
He nodded and then took me by the arm and led me inside. We passed Guido on our way up the stairs. Rocco stopped him with a head motion and told him that he was to stand guard outside of my room until I dressed and reemerged. I didn’t need to ask him if this was because of Enzo’s presence. I could feel it.
Rocco’s pressure increased on my arm as we climbed the stairs side by side. “If you must know, we all resemble Luca. One man created four men that all reflect him but in different ways. If I were to choose one of us that resemble him the most, it would be your husband,bella. That reflection is all the same.”
“And you,” I said, because the only difference between him and Brando was the color of their eyes.
“My eyes are different,” he said, stating the obvious. “Color wise.”
He didn’t have to expand on that either. The four Fausti brothers all had the “Fausti Eyes,” eyes that could bring you to heaven or leave you in hell.
“Your husband mentioned that you were curious.” Rocco stopped outside of our bedroom door, leaning against it, eyes hard on mine. “I do not believe any of us mind your curiosity, so far as it does not cause you harm. However, you must kill whatever this is you have for Lucious Fausti. Do you understand me,bella?”
My hand came to my throat. I had once seen Rocco wrap his hand around Rosaria’s throat when he was displeased with her. She seemed to like it, but the thought of anyone even pretending to cut off my airway made me nervous. Then again, I had complete trust in Brando, and when he punished me, he knew my limits and would stop. I had once asked him if we needed a safe word. He laughed at me, actually laughed, and then had said, “Yeah. Just say the word ‘no.’ That’ll do.”
Perhaps Rosaria felt the same way about Rocco.
Rocco grinned, staring at my hand. “Rosaria likes it.” He shrugged. “She also enjoys the belt.”
My cheeks caught fire like they were made of paper. “I—”
Rocco took pity on me and threw me some water. “Have you asked him,bella?”
“Asked who what?”
“You are not yourself today.” His grin grew even wider. “Africa.”
“Oh,” I said, understanding. “Not yet.”
I jumped and Rocco merely smiled. Brando had come up the steps so light and so quick that I hadn’t even noticed that the humming in my blood had gotten stronger. When we were together for longer periods of time, it did that. Settled. It was stronger when he was absent from my life for more than a couple of days.
Guido began to hum to himself, waiting against the wall.
“Tell me what this is about,” Brando said, leaning in to kiss me. He smelled of the market—the earthiness of fresh produce and plants, the fishy smell of the monger, even leather from the stalls of shoes and purses, and his own smell that made me want to inhale until I turned blue.
“In your absence I ordered Guido to stand guard. Scarlett needs to change.”
Brando stared into Rocco’s eyes for a moment and then nodded.
“I’ll get started on the meat,” Rocco said.
Brando shook his head. “We’ll be down in a minute. I’ll do it.”
“What of me?” Guido asked in Italian.
Rocco slapped the back of his head and told him to get downstairs and earn his keep.
Brando shut the bedroom door behind us, standing against it while I lifted the dress over my head. The doors that led to our private veranda were open, allowing soft sunshine and laughter from below in.
“How did it go?” I asked, enjoying the slight breeze on my bare skin. I sniffed and wrinkled my nose, but then smiled. Spoiled milk came off of me in miasma waves.
