The son of a bitch wanted this!
“You want this,” I said, repeating what the voice in my head had whispered, but the voice coming from my throat sounded incredulous.
“Sì.No man challenges me for an honor that is all mine.” He hit his chest. “The honor of being your husband. I will erase you from his memory as though he has never laid eyes on you before. Because those fucking eyes want. They put a claim on what belongs to me.”
I crossed my arms and looked away from him. “If something happens to you?” I could barely get out.
“I will have died for you.”
My eyes snapped to his. “Oh, fine, great! I’ll get to live with a love that’ll never be used, because I’ll have no one to give it to!” My voice went up a few hundred octaves. “You’re the only man I’ve ever loved. The only man I’lleverlove. And instead of making a way out of this, you go for it straight on, not caring one fucking bit if you leave me behind or not, Nazzareno Fausti. It’s selfish. Instead of dying for me, why don’t you try living for me?” I turned to go, but he grabbed me by the arm.
I could feel his touch all the way down to my bones.
He put this inside of me…a love I’d never thought could be mine, and he was gambling with fate for it.
It wasn’t romantic.
It was a waste.
And I told him so.
His eyes widened for a second before he took me by the other arm and set me against the wall. He looked down on me, his nostrils flaring, his eyes possessed by a dangerous obsession that ran through his family—teasing the line between romantic and ruthless, seeing how close one could coexist with the other before one got snuffed out completely.
All because of, what…one conversation I had with one of his cousins? I knew this about them, of course I did, how romantic they could be in the name of love, but being in the middle of it, it made no fucking sense.
“I am your man,” he whispered hotly. “I am your husband. You will not deny me this.”
“What are you denying me?” I breathed out. “If something happens to you, you will be denying me an entire life with you.”
“You are only thinking about you, not me.”
“Same with you!” I hissed.
His hold became harder, and I almost wanted to wiggle out of it, but I was pissed off too. I stuck my chin up and kept my eyes on his, though what I really wanted to do was run.
“You do not understand.”
“No, I don’t, and if it means I might lose you, I never will.”
“I will die like a man for a love worth defending, or I will not stand at all.”
He released me, and I wasn’t expecting it. I almost slid down the wall but forced myself to dig my feet in.
“What if I talk to Luca?” I said to his back.
He stopped, and I could tell he was taking deep breaths. “You will do no such thing,” he snapped.
“What if it doesn’t need to come to this? I can explain everything. I can tell him that it was only one conversation, and I never had any interest in…what’s his name.”Renato.“Please. I can’t…I can’t even think about what might happen.”You ending up like your father, or worse, if the wind blows the wrong way and you get distracted.“I don’t want you to do this.”
He left me alone in the hallway, going to join his family in the dining room. I stood there for a second, a plan forming in my head. I took off for the bedroom, and after undressing from earlier, decided on a form-hugging, light-pink dress with a matching cardigan, both falling to my ankles. I dressed it up with some jewelry, spritzed a little perfume on, and then went into the kitchen.
Nazzareno hired a woman, Carlotta, to cook for us after we’d left the hospital. Nazzareno put me in charge of giving her an idea of the things we liked, since I wasn’t big into cooking. I should have taken it as a sign when he wanted more protein added to a diet already packed with it.
Carlotta was in the kitchen already preparing steaks with rosemary. It filled the air with a mouthwatering scent, but my stomach felt too tight to eat.
I started helping Carlotta plate everything up, and she gave me a look, likewhat the hell are you doing?I just shrugged and said, “trying to learn.” She shrugged, but I wondered if she was really worried about job security. She didn’t have to worry about that with me. I could burn boiled eggs, and had.
I heard voices from the hall. Nazzareno, Brando, and Rocco. Brando wasn’t staying for dinner.
