Chapter7
MATTEO
I sleptlike a log after deciding I no longer need to wait for Goldie to let me in.So I lay down next to her and woke up content.I just lay there for a while, watching her sitting in the window alcove looking out of over the garden.Even the all-black mourning outfit she chose to wear for her sister’s wedding yesterday and had slept in couldn’t mask her natural golden radiance, especially when the sun was illuminating her.She shimmered.
Not so much after she realized I was awake.
Or when she was laying a curse on me.As if I don’t have enough of those to worry about already.
Her doing that pissed me off more than I showed.
She’s mine now.At my mercy and under my protection.As long as I choose to give it.She needs to start acting like it.
The fact that my dick’s been half hard for her all night and most of yesterday wasn’t helping matters.
And I’m still seething about all that as I search for Ferro to see what the plan is for today.
The house is empty, the rooms still bearing the evidence of yesterday’s party, but all the men gone.This house is large enough to swallow a hundred men and never show it, that’s for sure.I always thought there’s just something so sad about the morning after a party, even a bad party.It’s the ending of a happy time and all that’s left is facing the consequences.The aftermath.I’ve done so much facing the aftermath in my life that I’d be very happy to never face it again.
But I have the biggest aftermath of them all in the form of Goldie and her confused, venomous hate to deal with now.
I find Ferro in his study, smoking a cigar as he stands by the open patio door, looking out over the garden.The scents of moist earth and ocean scented air are mixing with the cigar smoke and it’s not a bad combination.
“Did you have a good wedding night?”I ask as I join him by the open door.
“About as well as could be expected,” he says and grins at me.There’s a scratch across his left cheek which definitely wasn’t there yesterday, and I can only hope Chiara is still alive to talk about it.Chasing away her parents is something Goldie might be able to forgive, but harm coming to her little sister… that she’ll never forgive.Although that ship has probably already sailed with the wedding yesterday.
“Where do you need me today?”
I might be on Ferro’s good side, at least I think I am, but now is the time to really wedge myself in there.So much depends on it.Not the least of which my own plans out west.As it is with all guys like Ferro, the fastest way into their good graces is to be useful.And I plan on being super useful from now on.
“Everyone’s still recovering and I’m going to give them the day,” he says.“I’m surprised you’re up this early.I figured you’d want to enjoy the day with your prize.”
He’s looking at me with a gleam in his eyes, but it takes me a few moments to realize he’s talking about Goldie.
“Yeah… well… that’s?—”
“Complicated?”he finishes my stammering for me.“If you want, I’m happy to bring in the priest again and you can marry her.Then we’d be brothers in law.”
“There’s the curse to think about.”
I didn’t expect him to laugh quite as loudly as he does.Throwing his head back, closing his eyes tightly.
“You don’t believe in that bullshit, do you?”he asks once he’s done with his little show, which I didn’t appreciate.I don’t appreciate his mocking tone now either.“Curses, I mean?”
There’s still laughter in his eyes as he waits for my answer.
“I’ve learned to respect curses.”Hard not to, given the monster curse hanging over my family.“And I’ve seen them work.”
He shakes his head, ash falling from the cigar as he brings it up to take a drag.
“I didn’t take you for the superstitious type,” he says and I wonder how many points I’ve just deducted from his esteem of me.“I’ve got no time for bullshit like curses.There are too many other ways to die.Real ways.No need to go inventing imaginary ones.”
I grunt in what I hope he’ll see as agreement, which I am in no way voicing.Curses are the devil’s work and they’re as real as things get.
He shrugs and walks over to his large oak desk where he tosses his cigar in the crystal ashtray already overflowing with them.A thick plume of blue-grey smoke is rising from the ashtray, but it doesn’t seem to bother him.
“Since you’re up, and want something to do, go see your cousin,” he says.“He was one of the biggest supporters of the cause while we were just talking about it, but I’m afraid the actual doing wasn’t what he’d expected.He looked very pale all day yesterday.”
