Even worse, I kept playing over and over in my head what would happen when dawn broke. Fuck, I couldn’t wait for her fangs to be in my throat, her body pressed against mine. I’d wanted Emberline since the first moment I’d seen her.
Wanted her so badly, I had to keep reminding myself this was all… pretend.
Strategic.
A means to an end, and nothing more.
30
GABRIEL
The empty bottle of scotch slipped from my fingers, shattering on the floor with a crash loud enough to wake the dead. I opened my eyes, the room nothing but a smear of light and dark.
Probably a good thing since everything in here was broken, ripped, or shredded.
My fucking brother.
My fucking brother, back from the dead.
I thought Marcello was going to throw a clot the moment Dante emerged from the storm, looking like he’d crawled out of the grave and stumbled into that chapel begging for absolution. I choked out a bitter laugh.
Like my brother ever begged for anything.
No…once, he did. A long time ago.
Before I went down that fucking rabbit hole, I decided to take inventory. My broken shoulder was healing, and my busted knuckles stopped bleeding, but even three bottles of booze hadn’t tamped down my temper.
I leaned forward, ripped the seal off my last bottle of scotch, and tipped it to my lips. Maybe I’d pass out before dawn and could stop obsessing over how to break through the impenetrable shield he’d set around him and Emberline. Because if I did get through, there was a very real chance I’d kill the bastard, and this time—he’d stay dead.
Over ten years of careful planning blown wide opentonight, and now there was nothing to be done for it except get drunk as fuck.
But ruining our plans wasn’t what lit a fire under my ass.
Emberline DiRavello should be mine.
That should bemelocked in that marriage bower. Me, with my lips on her perfect skin—if she didn’t break my balls first. For the past three days—fuck, maybe since I’d confronted her in that dark hallway—she’d consumed my thoughts. And now…
Light flooded the room, throwing into stark contrast the broken, splintered furniture and glinting off the shattered glass.
“Get the fuck out,” I growled.
“It’s only me,vecchio amico mio.” Nico’s expression was somber as he stepped into the room, leaving the door open, the light spiking daggers into my brain. He looked almost as pissed as me, lips pursed as he surveyed the destruction.
“Dawn’s only a couple hours away. What’s next, boss?”
“There’s been a change of plans.”Obviously.
I lifted the bottle to my lips, guzzled enough to make my head swim, then offered the rest to Nico, when all I wanted to do was break more shit. Not that booze calmed my temper.
Not that there was any more shit to break.
“Killing him would be satisfying,” Nico offered, deciding to play the philosopher, “but wouldn’t solve our problems.”
“Trust me, I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out a way to make his death work. But you’re right. Killing him would just complicate matters. Much as I’m tempted right now.”
“So…” Nico let the bottle dangle between his fingers, the sound of my father’s shouting filtering in from down the hall. “How do you want to handle this mess?”
“My brother’s never been one to play by the rules, so expect the next few weeks to be…bumpy.”
