Hisnowandfutureweremine.
I was going to hit her, but then she lifted her hands in surrender. Our eyes met, and since the fog in mine was moving past, and she must have sensed it, she whispered, “Sorry, I had to.”
My eyes flew to Rocco’s, and he was looking at me like he’d never seen me before. But that didn’t stop him from coming to me at the same time Brando went to his wife. Rocco lifted me up, and Brando lifted Scarlett up. Rocco still had aI’ve seen the light!look on his face, while Brando looked like he wanted to wash his wife’s hands to get the scent of another male off her like yesterday.
It took me a moment to fully realize.
Scarlett had done that on purpose to prove a point to Rocco, to help me snap him out of the frozen state he was in. I wasn’t fucking around when it came to him. He wasmine. And the same way he would fight to the death for me, knowing me only this short time, I would fight to the death for him—no matter in what capacity.
He’d given me his heart to protect, and I’d forever take that as seriously as my next breath.
His hand came underneath my hair and squeezed my neck. I relaxed into his touch, closing my eyes, taking a deep breath. When I opened them, my eyes found Scarlett’s, and I mouthed,thank you.
She nodded. “Let it be known, here and now, I am the sister of Rocco Piero Fausti, always have been. It wasn’t me he was attracted to. It was the love I share with my husband, his brother. Rocco followed it. Followed his heart. And all paths led to you, Ari. The gift we share was inside of me all along. He recognized in it his future.” She hugged me, giving Rocco a smile, before Brando put his hand on her lower back and they left.
That part of the scene was for me. She was letting me know that, no matter what anyone said or claimed, Rocco had never been in love with her. He was drawn to the love she shared with Brando, and the part of her that was like me, he had been attracted to.
A throat cleared, and Rocco and I both turned toward it. The soldier who had been eating the pasta dish with veggies. He stood tall, but it was clear to see he was uncertain about what he was about to say next. “The music,Signore Fausti,” he said. “Shall I retrieve it?”
Rocco looked at me and shook his head. “Allow it to rest,” he said, then he picked me up and carried me to the apartment.
Chapter 21
Between me, my father, and God
It was as if I were walking in a dream.
Nothing seemed real.
The entire island seemed as if it had become a live oil painting around me.
It was as if my ownamorecharged death and was fighting for my soul. The colors of the world were swirling and blurry as my eyes opened and I took a new breath, but my feet were still on the other side. I was being pulled left by the grave, and she was pulling me right, back to life. However, when she pulled, it did not feel as if she were attempting to split me into two. It simply felt as if she might walk away, and I would never be whole again if I did not follow.
What is half a man worth?
Niente.
I would be better off in the grave.
However, myamorewas fighting for me in the only way love could. And she did not wish to destroy me in the process, putting her own feelings above my own.
It hurt her that I had a past I could not change or forget, a wife and a life that had been as real as this one. Including my sons.Though when she looked at them, it was with curiosity, as if she wished to get to know them. I do not even remember a time when Rosaria wished to know her sons. Their existences since birth were tethered to their last name.
You are a Fausti, she had taught them since before they could even form a thought.
I was not innocent in this. I taught them the same. My sons were raised in the blood and learned to live by our laws. My sons were men. My men. Born to rule if the situation ever presented itself. However, the sins of the father shall fall upon the son.
My first-born son.
My Massimo.
He had followed in my father’s footsteps and condemned himself to a cage in honor of love. The same cage my father had been freed from—love holding the key. That key was lost to my son, as it was to me untilamorehad finally found me.
I considered this as I stepped out of Amora’s apartment, my destinationCastello Sul Mare. My father had requested my presence.
Massimo was cut off from the outside world by choice after the news of Rosaria’s death. He had sentenced himself in the name of love, and in the name of grief. Rosaria had bled for him, was a part of him, and she had turned on him in the end. Love had been a blasphemous word to her when it came to honoring the family. And Chloe was not worth that honor in her eyes. She was not worthy of carrying the Fausti name or a child of its blood. Even when Rosaria had carried the sons of my blood, she did not want to raise them. The only reason she even looked at them was because my father had been disappointed in their care compared to the way Brando and Scarlett had decided to raise their children—giving them the choice of how active their roles would be in the Faustifamiglia.
My upbringing was similar to the way Rosaria had raised our sons. My brothers and I were there—an important part of thefamily, since we were Luca’s sons and Marzio’s grandsons—but we were treated as royal decrees would be, sitting in golden frames on an ancient mahogany desk, prepared at any moment to serve. Nonno had trained my brothers and I to ride horses and sword fight, as he did all his sons and grandsons, but one of us would rule someday as he had, as our father had been expected to, and we were treated accordingly.
