‘I did,’ I acknowledge. ‘And I was. But the bullets that found your mother and brother did not come from my gun.’
‘But…’ She trails off, still staring at me.
I lift a brow. ‘But what?’
‘You just…didn’t want to kill a child? That’s the only reason you spared me?’ She says this with some disbelief, and I don’t blame her. Our world is a violent one, where innocents are hurt or killed all the time. Where fathers beat the shit out of their sons and mothers don’t lift a finger to help. Having scruples is unusual.
‘Yes,’ I say dryly. ‘Did you know that outside the families, that’s actually considered a normal reaction?’
The flush in her cheeks deepens. Sparks of her ready temper glitter in her eyes. Clearly she didn’t appreciate my sarcasm and she’s still struggling with whether to believe me or not.
I don’t care. Her belief or otherwise won’t change what’s going to happen.
She looks down at her hands for a moment, then abruptly back at me. ‘Why do you need my family’s good behaviour?’
‘Finally,’ I murmur. ‘That should have been your first question.’
‘Apologies. I was too busy screaming in terror when you carried me out of the cathedral to think about the right questions to ask.’
Oh, she’s sharp, this one. I like it. I like it very much.
‘You weren’t screaming with terror,gattina.’ I smile. ‘You were screaming with rage.’
She scowls. ‘Answer the damn question.’
No one speaks to me this way. My bodyguards would have a gun to her head if they were in the car with us right now and she should know that, having been brought up in thecosa nostra.I’m not offended, though. As I’ve already thought, she’s no threat to me. Still, if she continues to push, she’ll find I have a line and once she hits it, I’ll push back. Hard.
‘Ask me nicely,’ I say lazily. ‘And I might consider explaining myself.’
Her chin juts, gaze mutinous. ‘Please.’ She spits the word out like poison.
I’m entertained by her temper. ‘Because I want them under my control, of course.’
‘What for?’
‘Demanding,gattina.You do realise that I am probably the most feared and powerful man in all the families, don’t you?’
‘I don’t care what or who you are,’ she snaps. ‘I’m not asking for my freedom. All I’m asking for is a reason.’
Well, I certainly can’t fault her courage. In fact, it makes me want to give her that reason and for free. Revealing one’s plans, though, is a risk and one I never take if I can help it. Because once people discover what you’re trying to do, they’ll use that knowledge to stop you any way they can, and I know the families. Information is a precious commodity. If this one knows about my crusade, then she could pass that onto her father. Then again, as my wife she’ll be under my complete control and I’m certainly not going to give her any opportunity to speak to her father or ever let her see him again. So, what could it hurt?
‘The reason?’ I echo. ‘I’m bringing all the families under my control so the in-fighting and the feuds stop. So the killing of innocents stops.’
Her eyes widen. ‘That’s it? That’s the reason?’
There’s something about the way she says it that gets under my skin, as if she’s shocked that I should want the violence to end. I understand why—my reputation isn’t exactly snow-white—but she has no concept of what it is to be brought up as a family’s heir. How, at twelve years old, my father forced me to attend the torture session of a suspected mole, and at fifteen, handed me a gun and made me shoot a family soldier who’d betrayed us. ‘It’s either you or him,’ my father had said when I’d showed reluctance. ‘And if you can’t do it, I’ll shoot you myself.’
‘Yes,’ I say, allowing a note of anger to show in my voice. ‘Do you have a problem with that?’
She flushes and I find my gaze drawn to how the pink extends down her elegant throat and down below the neckline of her gown, where the fabric is pulled tight over a pair of small, high, beautifully shaped breasts.
‘No,’ she says quickly. ‘No. I just…’
‘Didn’t expect the Sicilian Wolf to care about anyone’s life?’
She looks away and once again I feel a wave of satisfaction that I’ve surprised her, which is puzzling.
Before I can interrogate the feeling though, my phone goes off and I answer it. There are a few logistical issues that need attention, so I spend the rest of the ride to my Roman villa, where the helipad is located, dealing with them.
