As he was leaving, I ordered Romeo to see him out.
Brando grinned at me. “I know exactly where my wife is—at all times.” He tapped against his chest. “My feet follow the beats of my heart. No matter where, when. I will always be led to her.She.” He pounded his chest. “Scarlett RoseFausti. The reason I live. The reason I will die.” He left us, the scent of his cologne lingering after he had gone, like smoke.
Dario cleared his throat. “He is ruthless.”
“He is romantic.” Romeo sighed.
“Created in the image of our father, just as we were.” I fixed my suit once more, the shoulders suddenly too tight, and then went to find my wife.
Chapter 16
Take My Breath Away, Lover
Sì, sì, sì.Picture me throwing my hands up and rolling my eyes. I did not tell my husband about his brother, and I directed the couple straight into the lion’s den. So…what.
My husband was always enamored by a romantic mystery, and his father had given him specific instructions not to meddle until the situation came to him.
And what did the newest Fausti couple think? We were not going to notice them sniffing around?
Fools.
If they were not prepared to step onto territory claimed by lions, they should have not put a foot down smelling of raw meat with challenges in their eyes.
At least Brando Fausti should have known better.
His wife? The tiny ballerina? She had a shock coming to her later when he explained who we were, and she realized who her husband shared blood with. Imagine it! Not wanting to impress a woman with your name?! She was much too in love with her husband to see the truth in his name. She claimed it because her husband had bestowed it upon her like a crown, but she did not appreciate it for what it meant.
It might protect her against Olivier, if he could be swayed—highly doubtful. He wanted those tight little ass cheeks in his hands—but any further than that, she was not going to appreciate it as I would. She would not see the beauty in such a ruthless lifestyle. Her husband seemed not to care about that. All he cared about was keeping her safe.
Waa. Waa. Waa. Cry me a fucking river and then go drown yourself in it.
He was not after this family? What man would not want to lead such a legacy! To think a man would choose love over this life. How preposterous.
I believed what I overheard him say. He did not want any part of it. However, time would tell if that statement kept true. It was his birthright. He was the first-born son of Luca Fausti. A son he had with the only woman Luca Fausti ever loved. Brando Fausti’s mother, Margherita Granchio. She had kept Brando Fausti in some Podunk town in Louisiana. Not far from where Luca Fausti was currently imprisoned.
Even though Luca’s light could never be dimmed in this family, they had buried him underneath his crime and did not speak of it again.
I wiggled my fingers against each other. What else would start to rise from the rough tides that this family had long ago buried? Did Luca not get drunk and kill that woman and her unborn child in Louisiana? What if he killed her for another reason…to shame the family and be punished to a life outside if his beloved Italy? Perhaps he traded his entire life as a free man for the freedom of the woman and his son? I could see it. I could also see my husband being the second choice. The man who was created to be a solider in this family. A soldier who would one day rise to prince. And from prince, mighty king.
My husband was not even truly considering how this new addition to the family was going to change our lives. Brando Fausti might claim he did not want this life, but he had never truly lived it. The power and all that came along with it was a heady aphrodisiac. Brando Fausti was a self-made man, but what could thosedo? How powerful could a man truly be without a true beast standing behind him? He could afford to give the ballerina everything her spinning heart desired without breaking his back. He could pull from unlimited resources to live a life most dream about.
I thought about all he was missing, but then my mind slammed back—what about us? What will we be missing? My husband, reduced to side seats at the table! His two brothers, spares to the heir, seated next to him, looking at the new king with unwavering devotion and loyalty. My husband had raised his brothers to be soldiers! The right to rule should have been his, damn the hierarchy.
Rocco would have to challenge him.
Kill him.
I would kill the ballerina for my husband. He could not do it, but I could. It would be a loss to the world. She was…magnetic in ways that kept pulling at me. Perhaps I was as curious about her as she was about me. But when I killed her, it would be out of kindness. She could not live without her beast.
My husband could understand that, even if he was blind to a great deal of things when it came to the heart and itsfeelings.Pathetic, but…I had to admire that side to him too. I could do that. Even if it was not my favorite side.
However, watching as Brando Fausti made a claim on his wife, nicking my husband’s throat, was delicious. It was as if I was watching snow falling at the beach. And my husband and his brother together, all that power…my legs opened, and I touched myfica. Already saturated, just at the thought. What I would not give to have them devour me from head to toes—working my body together. I shivered. I do not even know if I could survive such a thing.
Fanning myself, I moved to the stairs, looking over the banister. Ettore, who, in my opinion, was all ruthless but not as easy on the eyes as my husband, came through the door. He requested a meeting with my husband. The family was in a tizzy over the new additions. Then there was the situation with Olivier to consider. I took a deep breath and slowly released it as I realized what a dangerous situationI had avoided. I might have allowed him to insert a toy in my ass, and the bathroom time we shared, but I did not fuck him. The situation was much too risky. If I had crossed that battle line, perhaps I would have gone the same way as women had gone before—mysteriously—when they fucked with the family. I drove fast. Perhaps my brakes would go out.
Whatever my husband had planned for me when he made it to our bedroom…that felt risky as well. When he had realized my part in all this drama and had promised me later, he had meant it, and there was something lurking in his light eyes that did not sit well.
I waved a dismissive hand. I would not think about it until he appeared in my face.
