“It’s never as obvious as it seems, boy,” he insists.
Damian hums and steps away from the group, away from me. I realize he does this just as Rosalie walks into the room.
“Shouldn’t I be involved in this conversation?” she asks. “Alessio is, Soren is.”
“The less people that are involved the better, frankly this room is too full for my liking already,” Eivor admits with a sigh.
I glance toward Damian, who has his hands shoved into his suit pockets. I notice that one of his hands is burned, still not covered by any bandage, the raw flesh just out to the open air. His cuff and sleeve are singed and torn all the way up to his elbow.
“Rosalie should have a place here,” I say as I look away from Damian. “After all, the threat may very well be related to our engagement.”
Rosalie looks at me with surprise but quickly hides it and clears her throat. “Yes, I agree.”
“Well, there’s not much to talk about other than who we think sent the threat, the warning,” Soren says slowly. “I believe it’s the Carvels.”
“We haven’t heard from them since I told them our mutual feud against the Dresvanni family was on hold,” Eivor explains. “Sending a bomb is a ridiuclous way to get my attention.”
“How would you do it?” I ask him. “A horse’s head?”
Eivor scoffs. “Excuse me?”
“He’s right, Eivor,” Carmine agrees with me, which makes me smirk. “The Carvels were counting on you, the Fiorellis, to be their army in the fight against us. Now that Rosalie and Alessio are getting married, they’re left alone to fight.”
“I can’t imagine they’re happy about that,” Rosalie cuts in. “We went from working with them to leaving them to their own devices.”
“I’ll need more information about the Carvel family,” Damian says after a moment of silence. “If I’m to keep Rosalie safe from them, I need to know what tricks they may have up their sleeves.”
“I gave you all the information I have,” Eivor tells him.
I sigh. “Alright, are the Carvels our only suspect?” I ask with a raised brow, arms crossed.
The room is quiet. “Until we know for certain who it is, I think someone should accompany Alessio home as well,” Carmine says. “They could very well be after Rosalie and you specifically.” He nods in my direction.
I bite my tongue briefly. “I can handle myself, Brother,” I remind him.
“No one is safe when it comes to a mystery bomber,” he says in return.
I exhale heavily and look toward Damian, who is flexing his injured hand, and his forehead is creased.
“Fine. Why don’t you come up with a list of who else could be involved while I patch up our guard here?” I say. Everyone looks towards Damian in confusion.
“Did you not notice that his burnt flesh is completely uncovered?” I scoff and step over to him.
“I assure you, I’ve had worse,” Damian tells me.
I shake my head. “I’m sure.”
“Go get bandaged up, Mr. Rossi. There’s nothing else we can do at the moment,” Eivor agrees. One of the first times he has ever agreed with me.
Damian follows me out of the parlor room and down the hallway into one of the large bathrooms.
“How bad is the burn really?” I ask him as I close the door almost all the way, leaving only a small crack at the door frame.
“It’s not too bad,” Damian tells me as he tugs his suit jacket off and rolls his sleeves up. “The damage looks worse than it is.”
I frown slightly and open up one of the drawers of the wide cabinet the sink is set into. Then another, until I find a small first aid kit.
“I can do this on my own.” Damian sets a hand on the kit.
