She squared her shoulders, tipped her chin up to me, and accepted a glass of red wine Beni’s howling date handed her.
She was going to make me suffer for this. Then she was going to try to fly away from me after she made me bleed.
I might kill someone tonight over that fucking dress.
If not.
We might kill each other.
I downed the whiskey, the burn sliding down my throat and rushing through my veins.
The night was still young.
We would see what fate had in store.
* * *
If I thought she would have been silent on the way over to the club, I would have been wrong. I was not wrong, however, because I knew she was going to hide the hurt until the talons broke through her skin and came after mine.
She had never cared so much.
Neither had I.
She was not as chatty as usual, but she still spoke to me as she did before.
She did not try to race from the car. She waited for me to open the door for her and help her out.
She did not pull away from me when my hand went to the small of her back, but I could feel the tremble of her muscles through the fabric.
Not her skin, her muscles.
The hurt disguised as indifference, and soon anger, could not be contained. It was making its way to the surface, inching the claws closer and closer to the edge.
She would not have to fight through layers to get to me. I would give her my chest to carve out. The heart inside of it was hers. Then she would find her way to my soul. And I would be a dead man without the hope of more without her.
I glanced down at myuccellino selvaticoas we made our way to the door. She usually glanced back, but she was keeping her eyes on what was up ahead—my cousin’s club, the crowd, the night in front of us.
She was not looking at her present, me, but to her future.
Aristide eyed Beni and his date, and then grinned at me. They were already dancing to the music coming out of the establishment.
Galileo, one of our many cousins, was a successful international businessman and had opened a string of these clubs worldwide. They were named after whichever city they were in. This one had ROME lit up in bright letters on the building. I had been to most of them since I traveled so frequently, and they were each tailored to fit the vibe of the city.
It was opening night for ROME, and the line snaked around the street. A few cheers went up, the name Fausti being shouted, as we bypassed security and were allowed entrance.
All of Galileo’s clubs could be described as rich, and they all had women dancing on poles. The one in Paris had the women in top hats, tight black velvet body suits, black stockings, and heels.
Rome had them in sheer white dresses that fell just below their thighs, high heels, and golden flowers in their hair. The decor was all velvet, but red and gold.
Beni gave awhoop!after a server handed him a glass of whiskey. “I love a good welcome!”
“Yesss!” his date shouted over the music, dancing around him.
Ava rolled her eyes.
“Not feeling too warm toward the Faustifamigliatonight?”
Her eyes snapped to mine. “Not particularly.” She took a step forward and I took a step with her. Then she stopped, turning to me, placing a hard hand against my chest. Her nails pressed against my shirt, and I could feel the restraint. She was holding back the urge to tear me to shreds. “No. That’s not fair. Not the entire Faustifamiglia.”She butcheredfamiglia. “Just one member of it.”
