Violetta glares defiantly at me. "You wouldn't understand."
Releasing her arms, I leave before I do something I'll regret. Too close to losing control, I head to my bedroom and quickly strip off my clothes, discarding them on a chair in the corner. I go to the shower and turn the heat up high.
As I step under the scalding water, I'm resolved on what will happen next. Violetta will learn the cost of defiance, one way or another.
SEVEN
Violetta
When Damiano leaves,I huff out a breath of relief. Though he didn't raise his voice or show any outward sign of anger, I sensed it bubbling beneath the surface of his calm exterior.
The man's control is as impressive as it is terrifying. I can't help wondering what will happen if it snaps. I don't want to be the one standing in front of him when it happens.
I take another look at Lorenzo Volante. I don't know him, but I've seen him at the club. He's a walking violation of our strict dress code. A complete contrast to his older brother, Lorenzo goes for that just-tumbled-out-of-bed look with messy brown hair and stubble. He's always in jeans and a battered brown leather jacket. He must have some sentimental attachment to the thing because he doesn't lack the money to buy a new one.
A born charmer, he's popular with the club's female clientele. One night he bought roses for every woman in the lounge. The other men hated him for that.
It's unsettling to see him lying there so still. Men like Lorenzo are meant to be unbreakable.
The tall, pretty brunette who witnessed that brutal exchange between Damiano and me steps forward. She's dressed beautifully, but her hair is messy and her makeup smeared. It's obvious she's been through a lot today. She runs her hand across Lorenzo's brow, the action seeming to soothe herself as much as him.
"Are you his girlfriend?" I ask.
"Hell, no." She laughs as if my question is ridiculous. "I'm their cousin, Olivia Volante." She turns and pins me with a curious stare. "And who are you?"
"Violetta Caruso. I work for Damiano."
"Oh, where?"
"La Stanza Rossa."
Olivia nods. "I've been trying to get Damiano to take me there, but he's being a jackass about it." She tilts her head to the side as she studies me. "Why does Damiano think you're responsible for what happened at the church?"
I hesitate, unsure how she'll react to the truth. I take a deep breath and give her a condensed version of the story.
"The security team at the club had a man locked in a storeroom. I heard him crying out in pain, so I helped him escape."
"Right, and then he attacked us at the church."
"So it seems."
"But you knew nothing about that?"
"No. I didn't even know the man. I just felt bad for him."
"Hmm." Olivia is as inscrutable as her cousin. "I get why Damiano's pissed."
"Yes." Now I've seen the state his brother's in, I understand the anger.
"Why did he bring you here?"
"I don't know." Perhaps at some point Damiano will share his reasoning with me. I nod toward Lorenzo, who has a line of stitches on his forehead.
"What happened exactly?"
"He got in the way of a bullet."
"Fuck!" My heart lurches. I know the world Damiano inhabits is dangerous, but the idea of people shooting at each other has always been an abstract one. Seeing the result of it shocks me to the core. "That's…."
