I clear my throat before asking, “What happened after you left here last night?”
“I killed Will,” he answers, his tone unaffected as if he’s talking about something as mundane as the weather.
My eyes widen as I gasp, “Valentina’s Will?”
Christiano nods, and downing the rest of the hot liquid, he places his mug in the sink before coming to me.
“Can I ask why?”
Stopping right in front of me, he lifts his hand and brushes his knuckles down the side of my face before he leans in to press a tender kiss to my mouth.
As he pulls back and walks toward the living room, he says, “He didn’t treat Valentina right.”
Following after him, I ask, “What would you do if a man forces one of your sisters to marry him?”
“Depends who the man is.” He opens the bag and begins to get dressed as he continues saying, “If Remo forced Valentina, I’d allow it because I know he’ll treat her like the queen she is.” Christiano’s eyes lock with mine. “If it’s someone like Will Baker, I’d kill him.”
Being raised in the Cosa Nostra, I know this is how things are done, and it won’t help to continue arguing with him.
I stare at Christiano as he buttons up his dress shirt, and a sense of loss settles in my heart.
What will happen when he discovers I’m not fit to be his queen?
His eyes flick to my face, then a frown forms, and he says, “Don’t tell me you’re upset because I killed that piece of shit.”
I quickly shake my head. “I’m not. I feel for Valentina and the children. It can’t be easy going through something like this.”
His features relax again, and my gaze tracks him as he walks to the bathroom. Not caring if I’ll mind, he picks up my toothbrush, and when he doesn’t see the toothpaste anywhere on the counter, he opens the cabinet.
As he takes the tube out and flicks the cap open, his tone is brutal as he asks, “No going feral on me for opening the cupboard?”
Shit.
I freeze, and when his eyes snap to me, my lips part, but I can’t think of a single thing to say.
As he brushes his teeth, he looks inside the cabinet before shaking his head.
Jesus, now he’s going to make it his mission to find out what I’m hiding from him. How could I slip up like that?
Finally, I get an idea, and I pray I come across casually and not a nervous wreck as I say, “I moved my personal hygiene supplies to a different spot.”
Christiano rinses his mouth, and after patting it dry, he sits down on the toilet lid and puts on his boots.
Tension coils in my stomach as I wait for him to respond to see if he believes the lie.
He gets up, and crossing the floor to me, he presses a kiss to my forehead while his fingers wrap around my throat. Then he leans down and whispers, “What did I say about lying to me?”
I close my eyes, worried about what he’ll do to punish me.
I don’t have to worry for long as he pulls back and locks eyes with me. “We’re now getting married in three weeks. Keeplying, princess, and you’ll end up saying your vows to me this weekend.”
My mouth drops open as I gape at him, and before I can think, I argue, “I’m not lying!”
“Two weeks.” His black eyes dare me to keep going as the corner of his mouth lifts.
Pulling away from him, I hurry to my bedroom before I say something stupid. I grab a dress and clean underwear from my closet, and as I go to the bathroom to shower, Christiano asks, “What are your plans for today?”
I have an appointment with Dr. Kahn in an hour, but there’s no way I’m telling him that.
