His eyes met mine. “You are just now telling me this,” he said in Italian.
I answered in the same language. “Yes.”
“He hurt you.” It was not a question; however, I answered it as if it were one.
“No,” I said quickly. “He only wanted to talk.”
“Talk to you. Tell mywifethat he loves her. He was fucking alone withmywife.” The words exited his mouth in a smooth flow, but I could feel it. The tremulous nature of what existed below the surface of their meaning. It was the same when he had saidhe hurt you. It was the monster existing inside of every Fausti man, speaking for him.
Inside of my husband, his monster was about to explode through the surface.
“Yes.” I forced the one simple word out.
He stared at me, but I was not sure if he was seeing me. He nodded, as if he was answering thoughts inside of his head, and then turned and left, shutting the door quietly behind him.
Except it did not feel quiet in my heart.
It felt as if he had shattered the door, and the pressure the gaping hole left behind sucked all the air out of the plane, and I was suffocating while trying to hold on so I would not get flung out.
Chapter 49
Mariano
My wife had been keeping a dangerous fucking secret from me.
Mywife.
She glanced at me and then looked away. It seemed as if she wanted to say something, but she kept closing her mouth before she did. Maybe she knew it was no use. My mind was hyper focused on what she had told me.
That motherfucker had broken into my wife’s private space.
One.
He was a dangerous motherfucker who could have hurt her. I refused to even think the fucking word, but men like him were known to make grown men beg for death to escape the pain. He was in her room with her, all alone, telling her he loved her.
Which led me to fucking numbertwo.
My fucking boundaries as a man. As a husband. It was more than improper to be alone with my wife. He had no fucking business, personal or otherwise, no fucking reason on this earth or anywhere else, to think he had the right to do what he did.
She didn’t even fucking tell me.
She didn’t fucking tell anyone.
She was worried about my soul. From my experience, good women were. My mamma and sister were the same. It was something they took into consideration when dealing with a man who had no issue with taking another man’s life.
I had no fucking issues with it. I didn’t kill or maim willy nilly, but if or when the situation arose, and the outcome called for it, I didn’t hesitate.
The honor in my blood demanded it.
The ruthlessness craved it.
I simply fed it.
Not only was it my right for the disrespect tome, but anything that threatenedminewas mine to destroy. It was fair game when another man encroached on what belonged to me, especially something as vital as my heart. Something I couldn’t live without.
Mywife.
My wife glanced at me, then turned her eyes away again.
