“About as well as you would expect,” Dante replies through a tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.“Worried as hell.”
“Alessandro won’t do anything today,” Sophia insists, looking around, probably searching for her brother.
I see the frustration in my brother’s dark eyes, mixed with the affection he has for his wife.I know he doesn’t want to hurt her or cause her any pain.At the same time, we can’t pretend that Alessandro didn’t already come close to tearing our family apart.And sure, he’s been quiet and almost surprisingly respectful toward the family, at least to our faces.
But like Dante, his polite smiles never reach his eyes.His eyes are so dark they’re almost black and always harder-looking than they should be, intense, filled with what has to be resentment at best, hatred at worst.Likely hatred.You don’t just flip a switch and decide you like and respect the family you were determined to destroy.
“There he is,” I whisper, though I don’t know if anybody hears me.For some reason, I’m always able to find him.Even when all he’s doing is patrolling the grounds late at night along with the other guys on shift, I can pick him out from my bedroom window.
Like the other black-suited men in charge of keeping things secure, he wanders the perimeter of the space where a dance floor is set up under an enormous tent, with round tables already filling up with guests who want to take a breather before the ceremony begins on the other end of the lawn.Even though he’s been knocked down from his high horse, there is something about the way he holds his head when he walks.In his mind, he is still the prince who was denied what should have been his—leadership of his family, power, wealth.
Maybe that’s why it’s always so easy for me to spot him, even at a distance, with the way he carries himself and the arrogant tilt of his chin.
I’m already moving by the time I whisper, “Be right back.”The two of them can stare lovingly at each other for a while, or whatever it is they do.I’m already on my way to where Alessandro scans the crowd.He looks good, which somehow only makes me hate him more.It feels unfair somehow.The ugliness in his soul should show on his face, but he’s got the bone structure of a dark, brooding angel and a pair of pouty lips that are now pursed in what’s probably discomfort or resentment.Good.I hope he’s miserable.Emilia can’t enjoy what should be the happiest day of her life without stressing over him being here.
But Papa insisted.One night, when I probably shouldn’t have been listening in from the hall, I overheard him explaining himself to Luca, who was pretty much at the end of his rope trying to understand why it’s so important to keep Alessandro around.“He needs to know.He needs to see that he did not break her any more than he could break any of us.He needs to see for himself how she has gone on, how we have gone on.It’s as simple as that.And if you don’t like it, you’re more than welcome to live elsewhere.My decision is final.”
I guess he forgot he intended to step back and let Dante take control.But I don’t think that’s the kind of thing that happens all at once, anyway.It takes time to transition.It’s Papa’s way of hedging his bets, making sure he can still have a say in things.
I’m not fooled.
Just like I’m not fooled by the way Alessandro nods slowly once I’m close enough for him to notice me.
“You look very nice today,” he murmurs after only briefly glancing at me, turning his attention back to the crowd.Like, he’s not the real threat.Last I checked, none of the people in attendance everalmostkilled the bride.
“Can I get you something to drink?”I offer before snapping my fingers and clicking my tongue.“Oh, sorry.I forgot.The hired help shouldn’t be drinking during the wedding.”
His jaw ticks, but that’s as much of a reaction as I get.“Let me know when you get tired of putting me in my place, little sister, so I can prepare myself for the disappointment of not having to hear your clever quips.”
I don’t know what it is, but something about him makes me want to draw blood.And I don’t think it has to do only with Emilia or with what all of this is doing to Luca, who only wants to keep her safe and happy.I need him to suffer the way she suffered.Sure, it’s fun to know he has to be miserable, taking orders from us, but I would hardly call that misery.It’s not like he’s doing it for free, and it’s not like he’s out in the world breaking his back every day, either.He’s got it pretty good.
Which I guess is why I want him to suffer even more than I already do.He almost killed the woman who is about to take our name in front of two hundred witnesses, and he basically got off without even a slap on the wrist.It’s so damn unfair.
It might not be my responsibility, but there’s something in my soul that demands I make him sorry he ever targeted my family.
For now, there’s a wedding about to start.
“Enjoy the festivities,” I tell him, wearing a bright smile.“It’s probably the closest you’ll ever come to happiness… observing the happiness of others.”
His jaw ticks again, but he only inclines his head.“Enjoy yourself, little sister, at least, until your mama sends you to bed.”His mouth twitches with humor before I have to either leave his side or smash my bouquet over his head.
The dick needs to pay.
I just have to figure out how to make it happen.
2
ALESSANDRO
Let them celebrate.Let them feel like they’ve won a victory today.Let that arrogant prick, Luca, give me all the filthy looks he wants.It’s not going to change anything.
I am still here.
I’m not going anywhere.
Whether or not I want to.
Do any of these half-drunken idiots know who I am?Probably.I’ve never made a habit of hiding myself from the world, at least not until recently—the time I spent in Italy notwithstanding.
