“Ballerina,” Diogini said. “Have you met my daughter? Allegra. She was supposed to be married to your husband.”
Oh, so she was the woman Luca had wanted Brando to marry.
Brando would have served as a bandage to Diogini’s pride if he had married Diogini’s daughter, this woman forever connecting the two families.
It never ceased to surprise me how much of an honor it was to be connected to the Faustis, and not just by name, but by blood. Children of their blood were highly valued for their automatic positions in the world.
Not that I didn’t admire certain aspects of the family, but I married Brando for Brando. His name made no difference to me, nor did his bloodline.
Staring up at this woman, I couldn’t stop the thoughts from rushing me. Brando married to this woman…the kind of wife she would have been to him. Supporting not his wants, but the wants of the family, while mostly keeping her place as a wife of leisure. The houses all over the world, the fancy vacations, the hundred-thousand-dollar shopping sprees.
The kids with their nannies, none of them running into a poker game because they couldn’t stand the thought of not giving their daddy a hug.
Her long legs wrapped around his waist, the noises he made, the look on his face when he refused to hold back—but even that wouldn’t have been enough. He’d kiss her after and then tell her not to wait up. Other women, nameless, faceless women he’d bring to a secret bed, taking his pleasure not in one body but many.
Brando would be another shade of…Rocco.
“What are you staring at?” she snapped at me. Then she narrowed her eyes. “Where is my brother?”
“Vanni?” I shrugged. “How am I supposed to know?”
The look she sent her father confirmed it. Vanni had been sent to kill me.
It all happened so fast after that.
Allegra snatched me by the dress, yanking me toward her. Her grip was like iron, and I tumbled into her, but not before she used her legs to send mine from underneath me. I fell to the floor, but not before she snatched a hold of my hair and started pulling.
“Where is he?” she shouted. “Tell me, you witch!”
Fire ran along my scalp, and I started clawing at her hand, but she seemed stronger than her brother.
As she drug me toward the hall where Vanni lay dead, I caught a glimpse of what was going on with Vincenzo.
He and Diogini were fighting, struggling for power.
Vincenzo had Diogini around the throat, trying to choke him, but the man was too meaty around that area. He slammed Vincenzo into the wall from behind, and using his head, smashed Vincenzo’s nose.
Vincenzo let him go, blood gushing from his nose, and as Diogini pulled out a knife, about to go for Vincenzo again, his head disconnected from his body.
The head rolled and stopped at my feet.
I blinked, realizing that Nino stood with a sword in his hand, blood running down the silver, pooling onto the floor.
He swayed where he stood, but to his credit, he managed to meet Vincenzo’s eyes. “I am not atit. I am an Oscar!” Then he passed out, the sword clattering next to him.
In that second, I realized that we’d stopped moving, and even though her grip was still tight, the fire had cooled some. She wasn’t yanking me by the roots.
“ARGHGHHRH!” A crazed sound came from Allegra’s mouth, especially after I kicked her father’s head, realizing how close it was to my foot.
I wanted to make the same noise she did, but I couldn’t find my voice. Her brother had almost strangled it out of me.
In what seemed like a magic trick, a knife from Vincenzo’s pocket came hurling toward us, like a sharp-flying silver fish, and even though I couldn’t see, I heard the impact it made when it connected with Allegra’s chest.
The pressure on my head lightened all at once, and her body went down next to mine after that.
The knife was stuck in her chest, and one was in her open palm.
I met Vincenzo’s eye and he nodded.
