He waved me away. “We will still be sharing when you return.” He whispered something in her ear and her eyes widened, her entire face perking up, turning on like a bright light.
“Ato!” she breathed. “Ato!”
“Romeo!”
“Che cosa?” He shrugged, feigning innocence. He was anything but. “Go take your shower. You stink. Pew wee! Mamma Mia!”
“Ato!” She said again, looking up at him with doe eyes, ignoring anything but the promised word—gelato. She could care less if I walked around with flies hovering around me from the stink, as long as she got what was promised. “Ia!” She pointed to herself.
“Let’s wait for Mamma to leave first,” he whispered loud enough for me to hear. “Or the bun head might take mine off.”
He laughed, quiet and raspy, when I threw him daggers.
Secretly, it delighted me that they loved her so much. They loved to spoil her, especially with food. They knew it was the way to her little heart. Deep down, I knew it was most likely an issue that stemmed from my own childhood. When she was able to eat what she wanted—in moderation—it made me feel whole, like she was enjoying her life. My heart felt right.
My reflection in the bathroom didn’t make me feel right though. I had cleaned the blood off before Mia woke up, right after Brando left for his morning routine, but the flesh underneath the robe was still stained with passion marks. His mouth had done a number on me, and whatever I’d wear today would have to be thick and high.
Romeo was a good babysitter, so I took advantage of the time to attempt to relax, but my mind refused to shut off. After all of the normal steps were taken to get clean, I literally threw in the towel.
As I was about to brush my hair, shouting came from the vicinity of our room.
I peeked my head out, covering just in time to meet Vincenzo’s wild stare. It was apparent from the way he looked at me that he was looking for someone. Whether it was me or someone else, I wasn’t too sure.
If it was me, I had no idea what I’d done to deserve it.
Nino was on his heels, Romeo a step behind, holding Mia in his arms. Her face was covered in sticky vanilla. She was still licking her lips, her small pink tongue going around in circles. Guido came in right after—and the brothers started to argue.
It was hard to tell, with the way the words were slicing through the air, exactly what the issue was. I caught snippets:Marriage;Protecting her;Luca. Piecing all those clues together, somehow the story seemed to evolve.
During the time we’d lived in New York, Nemours had a man who looked eerily like him and a woman who looked eerily like me walk in front of a diner where Brando was having lunch. Thinking that Nemours had somehow abducted me, Brando ran after them.
The woman wasn’t me, and the man wasn’t Nemours, and the only resemblance between me and the woman was our hair and complexion. The woman’s name was Sylvie, and Vincenzo had been keeping her safe from Nemours. We had no idea what had happened to the man, but we had a suspicion that it was him who died in a car accident in Paris, not Nemours, as he wanted everyone to believe.
I’d only met Sylvie once, and it seemed there was something there between her and Vincenzo. From what I’d heard, he had invited her to stay with him here, to keep her safe.
Luca, it seemed, had other plans.
Mitch and Violet were not the only couple he approached about getting married. Vincenzo and Sylvie were not above anyone else, and were, in Luca’s eyes, “living in sin.” But Vincenzo felt someone in this villa had pushed the issue with Luca, which was why he was here and on the verge of murder.
Romeo noticed me in the doorway, keeping the towel up to my neck. He went to take a step closer, to hand me Mia, but Vincenzo was closer and beat him to it.
“Did you know about this, Scarlett?”
I tightened the hold on the fabric, preparing to take a step back, but the sincerity in his tone shocked me. “About?” I said softly.
Though the story had somehow pieced itself together, I didn’t want to admit to knowing about an issue (Luca’s stand on marriage) that might or might not be what I thought it was (the Mitch and Violet situation).
“That I am to marry Sylvie.”
I shook my head. “I had no idea.”
“Get in the bathroom, Sissy,” Romeo said, coming to stand between us.He handed me Mia.“Adesso.”
I would have listened, but not only was the sincerity in Vincenzo’s tone true, but so was the look in his eyes. It almost choked me up. He was waiting for me to say something, to speak up.
When the threat with Giovi Spataro had loomed over our heads, Brando had asked Romeo to take care of me. Vincenzo had stepped up and said he would. Maybe because Romeo had fallen for Juliette by then. Maybe not. But I’d always known it was not as simple as one reason.
He had never given me his feelings so easily, though, not until then.
