“Get up,” he says abruptly, although he takes a small step forward. “What do you think you’re doing?”
I grab his hand, his right hand, the one heavy with the symbol of his power: the Castellani ring. His knuckles are bruised and split, and I’m careful as I can be. “I’m swearing my loyalty to you, Don Castellani.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” But he doesn’t move away. Doesn’t try to stop me.
“I do. I know exactly what I’m saying.” And I press my lips to his ring. A moment later, I feel his other hand run through my hair.
But it’s gone in an instant, and then he pulls his hand out of mine gently. “Get off your knees. I’ve never asked for your loyalty.”
“No.” I lift up my tight-clasped hands as though I’m praying. “But I’m giving it to you, freely. My mother doesn’t deserve it. I’mbeggingyou, Alessandro. Let me show you that I only have your interests at heart.”
His hand comes out again slowly, toying with a lock of my hair. “And how do you propose to do that?”
“I’ll get Julian to tell me what he knows.”
His night-dark eyes are unreadable, shadowed under his heavy brows. “What makes you think my brother will speak to you? He already knows I let you go.”
“He’ll talk,” I say stubbornly, staring up into Alessandro’s face. “I’ll get it out of him. But to do it, you’ll have to lock me up in the cells again.”
CHAPTER44
SANDRO
Perhaps I’masleep and dreaming. How else to explain this lovely creature on his knees in front of me, begging to demonstrate his loyalty?
Begging me to let him do the one thing in this whole world that I know he doesnotwant to do: go back into that hell beneath Redwood Manor.
But when I raise my hand from his hair to my own face and trace the ridge of scar tissue, I know this is reality. What surprises me most is the lack of anger. Anger—rage—fury—they’ve been my closest friends from an early age. My father cultivated those feelings in me, stoked the fire, encouraged me to sailintothe tempest instead of around.
All I feel is wonder. A sense of wonder that someone so beautiful, someone with his whole life ahead of him, should throw himself to his knees and begmefor another chance, not out of fear—God knows, I’ve heard enough terrified begging in my time—but out of…
Out of something else, some mysterious thing that I’m only just beginning to understand.
Teddy MacCallum wants me, that much is clear. Even now, I can see desire hiding behind the determination in his deep blue eyes.
But there’s more than just desire.
“I will not put you back in those cells,” I tell him quietly.
“But you have to,” he says. “It’s the only way—”
“I don’t have to do anything.” I raise my voice, take his chin so I can tip his face up a little further. Enjoy the beauty a moment longer, before I send him away forever. “You’re not very good at begging, if you think all it means is being on your knees. Demanding while you’re down there? It defeats the purpose.”
“I’ll beg however you prefer,” he says, and wraps a gentle hand around my wrist. “As long as you let me do this for you. It’s the only way. Julian has to think that youhateme. He has to believe I’ve betrayed you, that you want to punish me.”
I let out a little huff of laughter. “An easy role to play. Youdidbetray me.”
But I don’t hate him. And I don’t want to punish him. I don’t tell him, though, because he has enough weapons aimed against me already, those luminous sapphires, the sweet Cupid’s bow, the soft-skinned caress on my wrist.
“That only means that Julian will believe it more easily,” he insists.
“Stop.” I pull my wrist from his grasp. “I will not do what you ask.”
“Alessandro.” Hearing him say my name makes my heart tremble. “Please. If I can find out what he knows—”
“I cannot do it. I made a promise that I would never shut you up in there again, and I’m a man of my word. So get off your knees, Teddy. It’s time for you to leave.”
I see him flinch at my words, and I try to enjoy it. Once it might have feltgoodto sting him like that, one tiny papercut compared to the knife he used to cut open my heart last night.
