An urge inside of me to flee, to hide her someplace else in the world, almost overtook me, but my mind kept my feet planted on the ground. A meeting between my family and I was held after thediscovery on the wall, and it was decided that the best course of action was to stay on the island. It would keep us close to danger, but that danger, if not a ghost, was kept here as well. Sooner or later, someone would see whoever this was and report it back to me.
The only problem was, most of the men had an aversion even to the thought of a ghost. I had only two men, Vincenzo being one of them, who would brave thecastellonight or day with a clear head and vision. Even when the men kept guard, their fear of the unknown ruled what they imagined they saw or heard—even smelled. We had reports of a voice singing quietly, of a woman crying, of ghostly sounds, of items being moved from one spot to another, of a spicy perfume floating through the air. One of my men had to be hospitalized. His mind had taken over his body, and he swore he had been possessed by this ghostly woman.
Set these men against the most dangerous army in the world, and they would march toward it without blinking or flinching, but set afantasmain front of them, and they would flee, leaving behind their guts and balls as an offering.
The caretakers did not know what to make of this new “ghost” either. After all the years they had been taking care of the place, they admitted to the pining, the feeling of a distant being sharing the space of thecastello, but not once had they found her to be threatening.Sì, Eufemia believed the energy of the spirit to be a woman. Eufemia believed the woman had drowned but did not realize it. Her love was so great for my ancestor, she rose out of the sea as if she had saved herself to get back to him. However, she could not find him. She needed to be set free.
Vincenzo asked if Eufemia could do this, but she shook her head sadly and whispered, “She must let go on her own.”
In my opinion, this was no ghost who only pined for a long-lost lover. This was someone fucking with me. It did not change the fact that whoever it was had been close to my love and was threatening her.
It could have been Rosaria’s son, Tiziano, raging war on me,but my men reported to me he was in New York, researching Rosaria’s history there. I could have told him where to go to find the man who sired him, if he wished. I had known since the boy was young that he was not mine. But it was not his fault he was created out of spite. I treated him as my own. Perhaps because I knew how it felt to be created out of something other than love. However, at that point, a reminder of what Rosaria had done to attempt to hurt me was no reminder at all—I had become numb to her behavior.
Rosaria’s wrong doings did not forgive mine, though, and I accepted my role in our lives. I had caused this haunting in my own life, to a certain degree, by the choices I had made.
This thought had been on repeat inside of my mind ever since my explosion at thecastello.My past is coming back to haunt me.
Proof of this was when Francesco offered me a sum for Amora. The same way I had offered my brother a sum for a night with his wife. Perhaps jealousy was near to me when it came to the love I had always craved, but it was not when it came to the pleasures of the flesh.
In this moment, I could still feel the heat that rushed through my blood when Francesco had made the offer on the street. How I would have killed him if the lion in my chest had not been pulled back. An invisible line existed in my life after I had first laid eyes on my Amora. She could pull me back from death if she held on to me hard enough.
Which she had.
The Fausti family has laws on the island as well as on the mainland. One of the laws: no blood would be spilled between family members on island ground. My rage had swallowed the rule down, about to spit in his face, by way of my hand slicing his throat. However, if a droplet of his blood would have landed on the street, I would have been sentenced to death myself. It had only ran down his chest and absorbed into his swim trunks.
I would have carved my heart out for Amora to place in her care rather than allow the executioner to have it first if Francescowould have placed a hand on her. I did not miss his greedy eyes, how he wanted mine. And not only to fuck with me. He wanted her as his queen. A dream that his branch of our family had since Marzio ruled ourfamiglia.
It did not matter which generation, men like me, men who have the spirits of lions in their chests, always crave to feel—whether that feeling be love or power, or both sides of it. Francesco’s heart had roared in his chest when he first laid eyes on my Amora. She was different in a world made of the same. She had the power to set a man in the right direction to find a balance.
To rule both sides of who we are—two different types of blood running seamlessly next to each other.
The ruthless.
Lo spietato
The romantic.
Il romantico.
In our family, ruthless and romantic were the two sides of who we were, the ancient qualities that we were created from, that we held close to the chest for the span of our lives.
Sighing, I poured myself another full glass of whiskey, closing my eyes to the sweet sound of her warm laughter echoing throughout these cold halls. The women were spoiling her.Molto bene. She would be spoiled for the rest of her life.
“It is early to be drinking,” Brando said in Italian, stepping into the dim room with me.
Dario followed in his footsteps. “He is celebrating,” he said.
“Alone?” Romeo appeared, making a disagreeable noise. “I do not think so.” He set a bucket hat on my head, fishhooks dangling from it, and I turned to him.
He took a step back, barely keeping his laughter in check. “We are on the island—it is our right to relax.” He shrugged. “And the theme of this stag party is…you have beenhookedby Amora Bella,fratello.”
Brando squeezed my shoulder. “In short, we’re taking youfishing.”
All my brothers wore clothes suitable for a day on the water.
I was wearing a suit.
“It is not best,” I said. “The threat on the island is too fucking close.”
