Saverio Macchiavello didn’t belong here.
He would have to protect someone else.
Chapter5
Mia
Two hours after Saverio left, I debated whether to wear the ring he’d given me two years ago, after my twenty-first birthday. He’d slipped it on my finger while I was sleeping, leaving a note on the bedside table.
Mia,
I left you with a warning on your fifteenth birthday. I’m leaving you with a blood vow on this one.
We both know you’re going to hide my ring. One day, you’ll wear it on your left finger, where it belongs, along with my name.
He’d signed the letter with a smear of his blood.
He was gone by the time I’d fully realized what he did and what he meant. Even though I’d smiled a little at seeing it, I knew he meant every word. He was the man who couldn’t be moved. No matter how many times I told him no, or pushed him away, he seemed to know that my walls were not as high or as strong as I pretended they were.
That, or he was confident enough to know that he was the only man who could climb them. Barbed wires and all.
The sun was bright, and I lifted the ring, letting the rays break around it. It was the most stunning piece of jewelry I’d ever seen, besides mamma’s engagement ring. It had a vintage vibe about it, but it also seemed to marry the contemporary. Set in a halo of diamonds and white gold, a rare, cushion-cut, violet-blue tanzanite gem gleamed. Another line of diamonds was embedded around the band.
It easily slid on my left ring finger, and I lifted my hand to admire it in the light. That was when I realized my hand was trembling.
A loud knock at the door had me scrambling to pull the ring off. Before I could slip it back in the box, my brother, Matteo, had let himself into the house.
“Mia?”
“I’m coming!” I yelled from the bedroom.
He was already at the door, and I had no time to hide the box or the ring. I slipped it on my right hand, third finger. Besides, I had a plan. And if it was going to work, I would need it.
“You ready?” His eyes went directly to the ring. Like my father, he missed nothing.
I nodded, acting like nothing was amiss. “Yes,” I said. I’d dressed in a soft, cream-colored top with a pair of tan slacks and matching heels. If my grandfather, Luca, was around, he expected us to dress for the occasion out of respect. Matteo was in a suit—he was always in a suit, though. “Let me grab my bracelet—”
Before I could get the words out, my brother grabbed me by the arm before I could turn away from him.
“Dimmi,” he said.Tell me.
Of course. Every bit like my father. They expected answers when they demanded them. Except my brother was not my father, and I was older than him. Even though he’d probably be the leader of the infamous Fausti family someday, I still outranked him in our family. Whether he liked it or not.
“There’s nothing to tell,” I said, lifting my chin and folding my arms over my chest.
His eyes narrowed at my guarded position. “Yeah, I know there is. Seems like I’m going to have to talk to Saverio soon.”
I grinned. “Go right ahead.”
“I don’t like that face,” he said, nodding to it.
“What face?”
He motioned to my head with his pointer finger. “That’s mamma’s curious face. That’s mamma’sI’m up to no goodface.” Then he grinned.
“What?” I said, tilting my head.
“I’m going to let papà deal with this—that face never leads to peace.” His laughter was deep—some said dark. “He has more experience with it.”
