Page 110 of Brutal Heir

Every wedding and engagement ring we sold would be tainted with a mafia association.

Arcangelo picked up the water carafe and wrinkled his nose. “Got anything stronger?”

I nodded toward a walnut cabinet on the far wall.

He crossed to it and opened it to expose a dartboard.

Pulling a wooden panel down, he revealed the hidden bar.

He poured himself a scotch and then turned back to me. “As I see it, our dear brother and sister don’t truly understand what it means to sacrifice for the family.”

Arcangelo had never forgiven our father for forcing him into religious orders.

Our father’s threat to disown him was a powerful motivator to fall into line.

And as far as my father was concerned, it shouldn’t have been any real sacrifice for Arcangelo, since no one expected him to take his vow of celibacy seriously.

And he didn’t.

His place in the church was about power, not God.

After approaching the bar, I poured myself a scotch. “Rafaello spent over a decade in the army.”

He drained his glass. “Please don’t insult me, dear brother, by equating Rafaello playing soldier while getting all the pussy he wanted across four continents, to being forced to exist under the constant watchful eye of God’s minions.”

Rafaello had actually seen some pretty dangerous combat, but there was no point in aggravating an old wound that would never heal.

I raised my glass in a mock surrender toast, drank, then set the glass down and turned to leave. “I’d invite you to dinner, but I don’t want you here.”

Arcangelo placed his hand over his heart. “What a gracious invitation. You read my mind. I’ve already told your chef to set another place for me. You know I can’t resist his Tagliolini ai Frutti di Mare.”

“This is your only warning, Arcangelo. If I even suspect you’re thinking about Sabrina with anything other than brotherly affection, I’ll save Benedict the trouble and cut your dick off myself.”

“Well, well, well, brother. This is an interesting development. Now I’m even more intrigued to meet the mysterious and beguiling Sabrina Dolce Badalamenti.”

Forgetting how dangerously perceptive Arcangelo could be, I realized too late that I’d revealed far more than I intended.

To mask my misstep, I turned my back on him and, with an air of finality, said, “Just don’t test me, Arcangelo.”

CHAPTER 30

SABRINA

"So how much have you told her?" asked a deep male voice.

Risking detection, I leaned forward and peeked through the slit between the doors.

Sebastian stood in the dining hall, speaking with a man clearly dressed in high clerical garb.

So how much have you told her?

Were they talking about me?

I'd stayed in my room, too unsure to leave and too restless to sit still. With no phone and my laptop still missing since the flight, I had nothing but silence and growing unease.

Just when I was ready to lose it, two maids appeared with my suitcases and the garment bags from the hotel.

The moment my fingers grazed cool silks and rich embroideries, I knew I’d lost another battle. The maids cooed over each piece, coaxing me into trying on a few despite my vow to resist Sebastian’s manipulation.