“Hm.” He shot me a knowing look, his hand rubbing up and down my back. “You don’t.”
“You did say it was okay to be delusional,” I said. “Now that I’m here, I might as well broach the topic. There’s something I wanted to discuss with you.”
His lips pressed against my chin as he pulled me closer to his body. “What is it?”
“I got a call from my friend… Vitale.”
He paused his movements; even his breathing stopped momentarily as he raised his head to look at me—frowning. A deep, hard, menacing scowl blanketed his face and made me swallow down the nerves that had suddenly clawed up my throat.
“I don’t like it,” he said.
“You don’t like what?”
“His name on your lips; I do not like it. If you want to broach a topic about him, refer to him as something else. Not his name.”
I frowned. “Why shouldn’t I use his name?”
His eyes hardened, clearly hating that I chose to fight him on his request—no—demand.
“It gives him more meaning, and I am very uncomfortable with that.”
“Okay…” I blinked, needing him calm to even bring this up. “Okay… I’ll—uh—I don’t know what exactly to refer to him as—”
“That man. Just say ‘that man,’ don’t say his name.”
“Okay—”
“Make the conversation snappy because I do not want to be angry.”
I gave a sharp nod. “Right.” Then I frowned. “Did something else happen? Why—why do you hate him so much?”
“I don’t hate him. I would not spare a lesser man that kind of emotion. He irritates me. And he held you—roughly, unapologetically, and I promised myself I would kill him. And I will.”
“I mean—”
“He also left a scar on you a long time ago, and he’s still breathing. I recall you saying no one leaves a scar on you and lives. I understand in our case, it’s different due to recent developments, but you still talk to him. I do not want to portray myself as possessive because you are your own woman, but I will not deny that your constant communication with him bothers me.”
I sighed. “There is absolutely nothing for you to worry about with Vit—”
“Zahra,” he warned.
“That man—sorry—you have nothing to worry about; he’s just a part of my past—”
“That you still talk to.”
I smoothed my hand over his shoulder. “He… was not a bad part of my past, Elio; in fact, we were good friends, and he showed me what being a normal teenager felt like. He hated Manuel as much as I did.”
“Why?”
“Manuel and Vi—that man’sbrother, Ignazio—made his life a living, breathing hell. Aside from being bullied to near death, they deprived him of everything good—just for fun. Ignazio is a terrible person and doesn’t deserve that seat you sponsored for him.”
Elio raised a brow. “So he asked you to talk to me? Get me to change my mind?”
“No. There’s nothing we can do now. But I know that move you pulled wasn’t your last—”
“Oh, it was not my last. That bruise lasted three days onyour arm. I have barely started dealing with that man; when I am done, he will be too dead to be dead.”
I don’t even want to know what that means.
