Before Oscar could leave to make the call, my hand seemed to whip out on its own accord and seize his wrist. It wasstupido, but I took this sickness as a challenge. One that had roots back to Capri Capella. I would not succumb to it or call my husband and break the sequester.
“Tell SignorDandolo I do not need to break the sequester, but I do need help. Probably some fluids to heal me. Perhaps I can cry then.”
Cry for the life I felt I was missing out on. I had been holding in the situation with Capri, the words on my tongue, when I last saw my husband. Our future felt as if it was in the balance.
Perhaps I could not live the rest of my life knowing we could not stay apart for only a short amount of time. Perhaps he could not live the rest of his life knowing I could do this.
I did not know anymore.
I did not know!
I was just sick.
So very sick.
Perhaps most people would see this time as only…time. It was not mere seconds, minutes, days, months, years for us. Being apart was not so simple. It felt as if our hearts had merged into one, and we were sharing it. A step away from each other felt as if we were splitting each other in two.
Oscar gave me a look, a look I could only describe as…you need more than help, lady.
My stomach rolled, and when I opened my eyes again, I was being hauled out of my bed, feet moving underneath me that were not mine.
The bitter Venice air touched my skin, and I shivered so hard, my bones felt as if they rammed into each other. I fell into a deep sleep, one that was filled with a nightmare I knew I would never consciously remember.
Chapter 40
Mariano
Ifelt unnerved all morning, like a million voices were whispering in my ear and I couldn’t fucking understand one of them. Usually racing of any kind helped clear my head. Even sparring with one of my brothers, but the only one available was Marciano, and as of late, he had been my punching bag, even though he always gave as good as he took. I had been extra wound up, though, and the fight had to be called a few times.
We would have killed each other.
The thought of my wife telling me to go easy on her didn’t sit right with me. Neither did the fucking bruise on her hip.
I was heading toward that cliff again. I yearned for Guerriero to fling me over it, but my instincts were too ingrained in me. He had fooled me once. He never would again.
I would have to let go on purpose.
I turned him in another direction, going for a long stretch of beach, but a whistle came at me from a distance. My old man. I narrowed my eyes at him. He was sitting atop one of the Maremmano horses. I spurred Guerriero forward, knowing something had to be wrong for him to be looking for me.
My old man was not all that fond of horses, though he could ride. He could wield a sword on one too. Not as good as me,he always said. It was not said in malice or as a challenge. He usually pulled my head in when he said this. He was proud of me.
It was not pride I saw on his face then. His eyebrows were drawn down, and the set of his lips were severe.
I spurred Guerriero even faster, until he was circling my old man on his horse. My old man’s horse, Chaplin, had never been comfortable with Guerriero. Chaplin was a calm soul, so he took steps back, and my old man held onto the reigns tighter.
“Visitors,” he said. “Benedetto Dandolo and Flavio Capella. Mamma is with them. Marciano is with her. Your grandfather has been called as well.” He lifted his hands. “This is all I know.”
Maybe I nodded. Maybe I didn’t.
Guerriero kicked up sand and dust as we raced back to the stables. I dismounted him before he even came to a complete stop. I gave him a whack on his ass, and he snorted at me but went into his area, where I secured him in. I was the only one who could deal with the murderous horse. My old man jumped off Chaplin, moving faster than most men his age.
“Go,” he said. “I’ll make sure Guerriero is secured in his stable. Then I’ll get Chaplin settled.”
“Guerriero is good,” I said. Then I whistled. One of my grooms peeked his head out from the other side of the stable. “Chaplin.”
The groom nodded and took Chaplin from my old man. He fell into step with me, and we hauled ass back to the villa. My heart was pounding in my chest. If one of these men came to tell me something had happened to my wife, three men were going to lose theirs—Flavio, BenedettoDandolo, and Oscar. Not before I killed the people they loved most first.
Then…
