My back felt vulnerable, as did my neck, but I held my spot.
Yanking my shoulder hard enough that stars burst in my eyes, Luca turned me toward him. His strength was a tangible thing. Strong enough that one touch could bring a man to his knees.
Even in the condition my body was in, he couldn’t bring me to my knees.
I was blood of his blood, the man he called son, a reflection of him. I remembered that, and the thought gave me enough strength to stand on my own two feet.
Preparing for the worst, I squared my shoulders and stuck my chin up, keeping my eyes forward. “Kill me, father,” I said in Italian, “but my word is my blood. My place is not as head of this family. I head only my own. Scarlett. Mia. Matteo. Mine.” I hit my chest.
“All of you!” he ordered in Italian, lifting his arms. “Up. Now! Like the men you are!”
Romeo and Dario had an easier time getting in line. Rocco struggled, and there was nothing we could do. Luca wouldn’t allow it.
If Rocco survived, which he had, then he was well enough to stand on his own two feet. End of story.
Pale and sweating, close to shivering, Rocco stood next to me. We lined up in order of our ages.
Luca paced in front of us. His robe had come open, his back exposed. His ass too. My robe had come undone, as well, a cool draft drifting over exposed skin, causing my balls to come in closer for warmth.
I was willing to wager each one of us were exposed.All looking like fools.
“Is this what you all think of me?” he said in Italian. “That I would kill you? My own sons? My own blood?”
He halted his pacing in front of me. He backhanded me, the sound echoing in the room. I’d feel it tomorrow. The pain meds had mostly numbed me. I gave him the other cheek, and he took advantage of that one as well.
“What I do,” he went on like a madman, slamming his fist against his chest, “I do out of love!”
Then, taking his hand and wrapping it around the back of my neck, he pulled my face close to his, resting his forehead against mine.
“You aremyblood,myson. I love you more thanmyown life.” He squeezed my neck, kissed my forehead, then released me, a rough shove.
He repeated this scene down the line, even the backhand. He spoke to each of my brothers, connecting with them like he never had before, a passionate moment, and then released them with his usual brute force.
After Romeo, he grumbled unintelligible things as he shuffled toward the door, ass totally exposed and not giving a fuck.
“Stupid bastards!”he growled before he left the room.
The nurse said something to him, but at the sound of his rude dismissal, she almost gasped. His hair was wild, eyes matching, and in the darkness, he was no doubt formidable to anyone who came across him, growling like a lethal old cat.
Rocco released a shaky breath before he squeezed my shoulder and then allowed himself to collapse back into bed.
Romeo staggered back to his own seat.
Dario was right after.
The wheelchair rolled back when I sat, but the door stopped me from completely rolling out.
Romeo sighed. “Do you think the same rule applies to drugs as with alcohol? The truth is spoken in such times?”
None of us answered, all lost to our own thoughts.
Rocco lifted his hands, opened his mouth, but then closed it, letting his hands fall against his chest with a solid thud.
“Will our family be all right?”Dario voiced the question aloud.
“Yeah,” I sighed, closing my eyes, tilting my head back.
“How do you know?”
