I’m dead.
He’s right, Bruno’s insight has always been top notch. Plus, pretty boy here isn’t winning any Oscars for ‘Best performance’ any time soon. Bruno knows. That’s a fact.
“I don’t get it. How are you this relaxed about it?”
I’m not.
“Because we got more important shit to take care of right now than speculating if Bruno finds out or not, whatever this is,” I say with the intention of ending this conversation. “Put your game face on.”
“Oh, it’s on. That’s why I’m telling you all this. You can pretend I didn’t notice you changed the subject, but you should end whatever it’s going on between you and Sarah before it’s too late.”
“Too late?” I shake my head, frowning. I want to smile, but pretty boy is going to snap.
“Yes, I fear she will realize it’s serious once she finds Bruno. The confusion alone will destroy her.”
Is that a possibility? Could that actually happen? I’m not going to lie. I have never wanted something to become true this badly.
“Enough!” I roar as I stand up. I’m fucking pissed at him, at Sarah and Bruno, and even more at myself. I’m a goddamned piece of shit.
I run my hand through my hair and move it away from my face. “I rarely repeat myself, so take pride in me doing so right now. There’s nothing going on between me and Sarah, not because I don’t want to, that’s obvious. If it was up to me, I’d have her chained to my bed. But the fact that she’s halfway across the world means fucking something. Don’t you agree?”
I’m pissed.
“I believe we can keep pretending for the time being, but eventually, this will blow up in your face. The key will be how you choose to approach that situation.” Carter speaks in a low tone, trying to smooth over this situation.
“I need some air,” I say as I head toward the door. “Make sure she doesn’t…die while I’m gone. Can you do that?”
“Fuck you,” he mutters without even looking at me.
As soon as I enter the hallway, I signal one of my brothers to approach me. When he does, I ask him about the whereabouts of a certain someone. He provides the information right away; he knows my temper.
I lean on the bar and start looking for my prey.
Megan.
My personal version of Sarah.
She is a nice bitch with a big rack and a matching body, short black hair and blue eyes. She and Sarah look pretty alike, if you ask me.
When I finally find her, I grab her by the wrist and drag her away from the party, where I can no longer hear the men whistling and the bitches giggling. Megan, on the other hand, is flattered I’ve taken her away from the rest.
“I love it when you drag me away like this,daddy,” she whispers as soon as we enter the room.
“Shut up.” My frustration is obvious. I throw her on the bed just when she tries to kiss me, and her breath reeks of booze and cigarettes. I turn her around, putting her face down and ass up. She knows her only purpose, she knows I’m not interested in any kind of relationship. I’m only interested in seeing the back of her head and this fat ass.
And that’s what I get, for letting the only woman who ignites a new kind of fire in me go.
Chapter Twenty-Six
SARAH
Five hours later, the train finally makes its final stop.
Venice. This city intrigues me, so I disembark, eager to explore. Orange dominates around here; I’ve never seen anything like this before. I feel like I’m inside a Shakespeare play.
“Shakespeare? Ha! That involves reading and understanding. Thumbing through tabloids was the closest you ever got to reading something.”
“I get it, Life. You wanna be part of this too.”
