“He is our brother,” Dario said, an attempt at being the voice of reason. “If there was a way, do you think we would not take it? He ordered us to take you home. That is what we will do for him. We will give him the honor of dying like a man, for the woman he loves.”
“Honor?Fuckhonor when it comes to losingmyheart! I don’t see any of you taking a chance now. Damn your words to hell! He would take it. I know he would. My husband would sacrifice himself to save any of you. And this…this is what he gets in return? I’m not even asking for a sacrifice. I’ll do it. Whatever I have to do. All I’m asking for is the chance to even try—”
One of the men came in then and cleared his throat. Rocco stared at me for a second, then turned and stood in front of the window, broad shoulders and lean, muscled physique outlined by the burning sun. He gestured for the man to speak. The man rushed out the word “phone,” before turning about and disappearing again. Rocco sighed and lifted the phone to his ear.
I heard the voice of a man on the opposite line. He spoke in a rush, unintelligible words. Rocco didn’t interrupt him once. He only listened while the man went on, and after a few short seconds, nodded and hung up.
He eyes swung to me, thinking, questioning, judging.
“He’s mine,” I said, knowing the direction of his thoughts. He had been weighing his choices, going back and forth with himself—to tell me or not. “Tell me.”
“He is being kept on a yacht.” He paused. “He will be killed in three days. Spataro has ordered his heart to be cut out of his chest while he still lives. Then he will be dropped into the sea with concrete around his ankles.”
A noise that came from somewhere outside of my mind made me look around the room. It was a desperate noise, a mixture of fear, shock, and pain. No, no, it wasn’t from someone else in the room. The noise came from me, I realized with a sudden jolt.
Romeo peeled my hands from around Rocco’s throat, dragging me out of the room before I could go for his eyes.
* * *
I had heard him the first time, but I asked him to repeat himself for the sake of being sure I had heard correctly.
Romeo stood in the window of the rose room, looking out at the bushes exploding with soft petals and sharp thorns. If I inhaled, I could smell their perfume in the warm air. It was like taking a bath with scented oils.
“It is not Rocco’s fault, Sissy.”
I looked up from my hands, sitting limp in my lap, and blinked a few times.
“I—I know,” I said, my throat choked. After Romeo had forced me into the room, where it was quiet, I realized how wrong I was. I should’ve never gone after Rocco. Still, I refused to be derailed. “I know. But—”
He held a muscular arm up. Veins snaked underneath his bronze skin, made more apparent by the light. “You do not understand what it means to be a man. You never will. You are his wife. You have feelings that I will never be able to understand. But to be a man means to have honor. Your husband could not stand the thought of those monsters having you one more day.
“We watched himsoffrire, ah, suffer and suffer. I could not bear to see him in such pain. The day we set to rescue you, peace had found him. I refuse to take that from him. His peace. His honor. What it means to be auomo.”
“You would rather see him die then?” My hands twisted against one another, close to constriction. “For the sake of being a man?”
“I would want to see him die with honor, for the sake of the woman he loves. To him, that is what being a man means.”
These men were still true gentlemen to the core. It had been bred in them, like the beauty and strength they had inherited. Honor to them meant dying for a purpose close to their hearts.
I had never needed romantic gestures, though. And to hell with the idea that sacrificing his life for the woman he loved meant that he’d die with honor. I’d rather his honor live with him until he was old and gray than to have his heart stolen from his chest by a madman who, in actuality, had the wrong man.
Yes. His intentions were honorable.But.No. I didn’t want to live this life without him because of it. Not when there was a chance to save him.
“I will take care of you, Scarlett.” Romeo stood taller, his wide shoulders outlined by the light, the spitting image of his older brothers. “You persuaded my brother to change his mind. However—” he shrugged “—I am here, bound by blood and my word. Death would come to me before I saw you with Vincenzo.”
The sadness in his voice almost broke me in two. I stood from the bed, taking slow steps to meet him. I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. A tremble that could only be felt through touch vibrated somewhere deep beneath his skin, his thick armor. A tear slid down his smooth cheek, glistening like a diamond in the sun.
I stood taller, on tiptoe, and nuzzled my nose up against his warm skin. I slid my hand over his shoulder in a slow move. “Will you take care of me, Romeo?” I asked, my voice soft and as slow as my roaming hands.
His dark eyes flicked to mine, the only outward show of hesitation on his part. He swallowed, hard, but then he manned up and nodded—a solid, unwavering promise.
“And you think you can love me, Romeo? Like I need to be loved?”
“I will do my best.” He closed his eyes at the touch, at the close proximity. I could feel his warmth radiating as hot as his brother’s.
I watched him for a moment, before I placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Romeo,” I whispered. “For being so honorable, for being a man, but you were right. A woman has feelings that you could never understand. Brando is a man.Mine.And I’ll do whatever it takes to save him.”
A knock came at the door. I turned in time to see Rocco standing in the doorway, looking as haggard and as heartbroken as I felt. He opened his arms, went to speak, but was caught off guard by the force of my body colliding with his.
