Even though there was no chance of Lothario truly claiming the Fausti Throne, there was still a chance for freedom for us, and maybe another brother.
When all the brothers were together around their father for the first time, it was clear to see who wanted it and who didn’t.
Rocco and Dario were eager in the most subtle ways. Low growls emanating from their chests to prove worth. Brando and Romeo only seemed to growl when they felt threatened, having nothing to prove. But I wasn’t sure if it would always stay that way.
“Wild beasts,” I murmured in Italian, my arms cradling Mia tighter. Her breaths were coming out in soft puffs against my skin, and I breathed them in as though they were my oxygen alone.
Ruby perked for a second but then rested her head back on me. Slow steps shuffled along the floor, coming toward our room a minute or two later.
Eunice peeked her head around the door, eyes narrowing to make out one form from another in the darkness. “Scarlett?” she whispered.
“Down here,” I whispered back. “Are you okay?”
“All is well,” she said, but I knew what that meant. As a woman of faith, it made her feel stronger to declare her life better than it was. That didn’t mean on the inside a part of her hadn’t died with her husband. She wrung her hands. “How’s our girl?”
“Asleep,” I said, a shiver passing over me.
Where the hell was he? My heart was wringing itself out in a painful twist, forcing the blood to go cold in my veins.
As though he was summoned by my question, Ruby rocketed up, whining, eager to run toward whatever her ears had heard before mine. But Brando had given her a command to stay put.
One word released her from her hold, and after she heard it, she flew to meet the open front door that my ears had only just registered. An odd scraping noise echoed in the house right after. Given that Ruby hadn’t gone on the attack again, it was clear that she had recognized whoever it was.
The humming in my blood buzzed before she even made it to the door.
“Give me the baby,” Eunice said, holding out her arms. “Go to him.”
Biting my lip, hesitant, I decided to make a pallet on the floor for them until we got back. We used the portable crib’s mattress, and I felt horrible having to help Eunice down.
She waved me away. “Go. She’s the only thing that lessens the pain in my heart.”
It went without saying that she shouldn’t get up with her, but I said it anyway. I gave Eunice the gun. Her face tightened and she nodded her head, letting me know she would put it to good use if anyone threatened Mia.
Just then my mother walked into the room, bleary-eyed and pulling her robe tighter. “What is going on?” she hissed out in Slovenian. She lifted a hand toward the front of the villa. “Your father is out there with your husband.”
“Someone was at my window while I bathed,” I replied in the same language.
Her eyes scanned the room, attempting to locate the threat, but seeing none, she sat on the opposite side of the mattress, settling in with Eunice and Mia.
My bare feet padded against the cold floors, as quiet as a whisper in the howling wind. I stopped. Brando and my father stood in the front room, staring down at an inert body lying on the floor between them. Even from the dimness of the chandeliers I could see blood pooling on the antique floors, black in this light, coating the air with an almost salty, metallic smell and the tang of sweat stress.
Ruby sat beside Brando, as though she were identifying the man who had caused her to go murderous.
“Call Tito,” Brando ordered.
My father looked up at him, surprised that he had ordered him to do anything. But Brando knew I was there; my father hadn’t heard me. The order was meant for me.
“Is he…” I hesitated. “Dead?”
At the sound of my voice, my father whirled, a new emotion playing across his face. I had scared him. He composed himself in under a second and looked between the two of us.
Brando turned his eyes to me, staring at my robe. It had come open, and I hastily fixed it. Men would start arriving as soon as Brando put the word out.
“No,” Brando said. “But Tito needs to get here soon.”
It wasn’t meant with the intention of saving the man. It was said in a tone that I knew meantuntil I get answers from him.
Uncle Tito answered on the second ring, his voice gruff with sleep. After explaining the situation as fast as I could, he agreed. “I will be there as soon as possible.” He added a few unpleasant things in Italian before he hung up.
