I hit his chest, a solid wall between the rest of the world and me, and clung to him. “I won’t leave you. I won’t.” Barely conscious of anything else, I was aware that my head continued to shake back and forth. “You have no idea—I can’t! I can’t live without you,mio angelo. I won’t. You’re all that I’ve ever had. My home. You have no idea howmuchI loveyou. You’remine. All mine.”
He took a second to stare at me, seeing…what? Desperation in its living form? A madwoman who grew even madder at the thought that she’d have to leave her everything behind? For these monsters to abuse and carve up?
“Don’t do this,” I whispered. “Please.”
“No,” he whispered. “You don’t understand. You never have. I know you love me. Look at me, Scarlett Fausti. I know you do. But it doesn't come close to what I feel for you. After they took you—” He shook his head. “I can't even put into words what I felt, so I won't. I refuse to live without you. I've held the everlasting in my hands. You. That will never change. You’ll keep me alive. I'm not scared to die, baby. I'm terrified of being here without you. That’s the only fear this man has ever felt. You'll be safe.”
A sob threatened to tear me in two, but I held myself together, knowing that I had to be strong to change his mind.
He shook his head, putting a hand to each side of my face, weaving his fingers through my hair. “There’s no other way,” he said, before I could even protest. “No other way.”
“That’s—”
The men moved in closer. I moved even closer to him. Daring them to touch him. I’d die with him before I saw them hurt him. He had surrendered his guns. He was totally helpless. We could fight together until they brought us both down.
“Kiss me now, my wife. My baby.”
I went to protest, to argue, to find anything to keep time on our side, but he took matters into his own hands and kissed me. I tasted the salt between our lips, the years we had spent together, our connection, and the years we would never have if I left him. How could he not see? Even if he no longer existed with me here, the connection still would, and I’d be forced to “live” with half of a soul. I refused. He had no idea how painful that would be.
“I won’t make you wait long for me,” I promised. “Do you hear me, Brando Fausti? There is no life for me here without you. I refuse to know what it’s like to live in a world where you don’t exist. If you don’t exist, my heart doesn’t exist.”
He went to kiss me once more, but bodies moved in and arms began to tug in different directions. Brando took offense to this, and before I could blink, a maelstrom broke out. Giovi’s voice rang above the storm, and French mixed in with Sicilian:he is dangerous—we must subdue—kill him if you must!
Romeo lifted me off my feet, carrying me kicking and screaming back toward the waiting car. Donato and Vincenzo flanked us on either side. Guido somehow made up the rear.
“The dragon has a knife!” Enzo bellowed.
I clearly heard the noise a mouth makes when its body has been mortally wounded. A gunshot rang as clearly in the air right afterward. Silence descended. Even our men slowed—then, in a burst of movement, I was taken away.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Scarlett
I swam in a daze of hate and resentment. The alternative wasn’t much better—the destruction of the most vital part of myself. I couldn’t bear to look reality in the eye and have her give it to me straight. Outrage was a much bigger emotion to hide behind, throwing punches to ward off the brutal truth.
My husband was gone. Left behind to be tortured by an enemy known for his ruthlessness, while I sat in the plush confines ofCastello di Ballerini. If I spent too much time thinking about whatcould behappening…I couldn’t think about it. When I thought about whathadhappened, it was the last moment before I was shoved into the car that came back to me: After Brando had stabbed Enzo, Livio finished him off with a bullet to the brain.
Giovi had given Livio a nod and then went inside. Whether Enzo’s killing had been approved or not, Giovi agreed with the bloodshed.
Instead of getting stuck on the memory and thinking too much about seeing Brando fall to his knees, hands behind his head in surrender, I lashed out.
None of the men would come near me. None of the women would either.
The only two souls who spoke to me daily were Uncle Tito and Aunt Lola. Neither one was known to shrink in the face of anger or adversity. Some days I appreciated the visit, the back and forth on the only topic I was willing to discuss: My husband and how to get him back.
Other days, I sat stone-faced and in a trance. My brain was on constantly, still thinking of ways to get my husband back. Iwouldget him back, and if not, I had made a promise. As serious as the vows I had given him on our wedding day. I wouldn’t keep him waiting.
For now…
It had been three days—three full days of agonizing hell—and from what I had been told, Giovi ordered Brando to be held. A quick death would be too easy. He was probably making Brando wish that he were dead.
As we had driven away from Brando, it had been a battle of wills between his three brothers and me. I demanded that they either take me back or leave me behind. They insisted that Brando had planned this and made them vow to keep his wishes.
“To hell with Brando Fausti’s word!” I had screamed. “And to hell with yours too! I didn’t givemyword. I’ll be damned if I don’t do something. He’syourbrother, for God’s sake!”
This had gotten a quick glance from one brother to another, a sigh from Donato, and a subtle shake of the head from Vincenzo. But the car rolled on, and the distance grew further and further between my heart and me, a painful stretch that tore fibers and caused a slow bleed to death.
I stood from the chair in the corner of the rose room, thoughts on supersonic speed, twisting my hands. I had too much energy and nowhere to place it. The urge to do something,anything!, was getting stronger with each passing moment.
