I don’t want to forget my parents.
I open the bottle and sniff. For a moment, I’m transported back in time, back to my dad’s study with its cloying cigar smoke and whiskey smell. I hated it back then. Curled my nose up at it. Now I’d give anything to be there again. To smell that smell. To see him laughing at me when I twist my face.
Closing the bottle, I set it aside before starting with the dresser closest to me.
I’m surprised Cristiano didn’t place a guard inside the room with me. I know that probably means there isn’t a weapon for me to find. He’s not afraid of me looking through his things. He must know I will. I guess he’s also not afraid I’ll steal something. Where would I hide it? Especially if he’s thinking he’s getting laid when he gets back from wherever he went.
Did he take my uncle with him, I wonder? And how closely aligned are they? He asked each of my brothers if they knew where Rinaldi is. He meant my fiancé. Marcus Rinaldi’s father has been in the hospital for the last two weeks. It’s all been hush-hush, but my brothers were anxious to get the marriage sorted before he recovers. If he recovers.
I met Marcus’s father on two occasions. He didn’t seem like a bad guy. But next to Marcus, Satan might seem like pleasant company.
I keep looking through the drawers finding nothing. Just more clothes, briefs and socks like any normal person. He’s not though.
The image of him standing there with his shirt off reappears before my eyes. I couldn’t drag my eyes away. He’s built powerfully and seeing him shirtless was more dangerous than I thought it could be. Dangerous because I wanted to look. Couldn’t drag my gaze from all those scars and tattoos.
I’m not sure which he had more of, actually, but the one thing making me shudder were the few names I recognized inked on his chest. Many I didn’t know but I saw Diego and Angel’s names along with Marcus Rinaldi. Below theirs was Noah’s name. Some had lines running through them. None I knew.
When I open the next drawer, I see something familiar. My engagement ring. It sits among neat rows of cuff links. There must be two dozen of them. And there, just tossed in, is the obnoxiously big five-carat ring.
I pick it up, looking at it. Not because I want it back but just to see it. To remember when it was forced on my finger. Marcus laughing, a fool, drunk as he fake proposed to me, almost breaking my finger when I spat in his face.
Angel and Diego pretending to be as drunk as he was. They laughed but I could see it wasn’t real. They just stood by while I was stripped naked at Marcus’s demand to get a look at the goods.
My brothers had allowed the stripping. The humiliation. But they’d saved me from having to fuck him at least. Probably afraid he wouldn’t buy the cow if he got the milk for free.
I burn with embarrassment at the memory of it. My stomach turns at what my own brothers made me do.
I throw the ring back into the drawer and slam it shut. Cristiano can have it and everything it stands for. If it’s Marcus Rinaldi he wants, I’ll bring him his head on a silver platter if it will free Noah and me.
But I want something in exchange. I want my uncle’s head on a matching platter. Would he give me that?
Cristiano’s reasons are noble even if they endanger the one person I care about. He is avenging his family.
He just has no idea who he’s aligned himself with.
4
Cristiano
I wonder if she felt anything at all watching her brothers executed. She barely flinched. It makes me wonder what they did to her to make her hate them.
I’m sitting in the boardroom along with my brother, two of the family attorneys, my uncle and two representatives from the charity to which I’ve made a sizeable donation. Charlie didn’t accompany me to this meeting. This is the legitimate side of things. He’s in charge of the other side.
One of the women is ogling me from across the table and I’m trying to avoid having to look at her. I’m only half-listening as I turn the diamond link on my cuff around and around.
“Cristiano,” Uncle David starts. “Are you listening?” He smiles to the women and gestures for me to get my head out of my ass and pay attention. But I can’t be fucking bothered.
“No, not really, Uncle.” I get to my feet as he clears his throat, looking annoyed. “Why don’t you and Dante handle this. Looks like you’ve got it all under control.” I nod to those at the table and walk away.