Chapter Fifty Larissa
Chapter Fifty
LARISSA
TAYLOR TILTS HER glass in offering, eyes flitting around the smaller villa as I pour freely from where I sit across the two-seater dinette. “Why do you continue to give him your home and bed while he’s here?”
“Because they’re familiar surroundings for the babies, which he isn’t yet.”
She nods. “Makes sense.”
“Why?” I pause my pour briefly. “You think I’m pathetic enough to want my sheets smelling of him?”
Rotating her newly refreshed glass by the stem, she pins me with her no-bullshit blue stare. “When are you going to stop punishing yourself?”
“For feeding my delusions about him to the point I humiliated myself? Don’t hold your breath. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Hell no, I’ve given you two glasses already to loosen your tongue, we’re doing this.”
“No, we’re not. You’re here to distract me.”
My reply is another withering death stare.
One I’m familiar with because, with Taylor, that’s all you get for months after meeting due to her impenetrable yet admirable guard.
In winning Taylor, Daniello didn’t just marry any woman but captured the attention and heart of a mogul and all-around badass.
Lethal with a pistol, she taught me how to fire every imaginable handgun—with precision—by my nineteenth birthday.
But after suffering my bout of dead stares, I discovered Taylor literally clawed her way from the slums of meth-infested Tennessee to earn an Ivy League education.
Later becoming a corporate powerhouse, which made her as much of an inspiration and mentor as Tula.
Especially after regaling me with her tale of coming to Barga to confront Daniello about his own secrets.
A move which ultimately sealed their fate and Tula’s.
The bottom line remaining: No other woman alive could have tamed my cousin into who he is now—a loving, doting husband and father.
A path no DiGiovanni thought possible with Daniello’s former temperament and his own sordid personal history.
Their love story stoking my own fantasy before I sought out the lunatic who fathered my children.
That thought has me bursting into laughter as Taylor shakes her head in accusation. “Lightweight.”
“The hell you say, I started hours ago.” Reaching out, I lift the stem of her glass, forcing her to drink.
Narrowing her eyes, she bats my hand away before delivering her damning conclusion. “You’re in love with him.”
“Don’t.” I jerk my chin in warning. “Don’t encourage it. He wants to fuck me. That, we’re good at. That’s all we’re good at.”
“And what do you want?”
“Earlier tonight, I wanted to kiss Alonzo,” I admit honestly. “And you know what else,” I snap. “But if I give in to Tyler, I won’t be able to respect myself.”
“That’s your pride getting in the way,” she condemns.
“There’s pride, and then there’s desperation,” I scoff. “He admitted earlier he’s still grieving his wife, whom he’s made clear I don’t compare to.”
“That’s not what I saw.”
“There’s no future there,” I reason, “which is why I should have listened when you called me an idiot for believing the fantasy and tried to stop me.”
“Guilty, but remember you’re talking to a woman who flew here to confront and kill or claim her own man.
” She grins. “So, technically, you’re in good company.
And it’s not just physical for him. Not anymore.
I felt that shit, and so did everyone else within feet of you.
You both were so busy making love with googly eyes that you almost missed your own kids’ christening. ”
“He’s still scrambling, and I’d be a fool to trust a word he speaks, but if there’s love, it’s for Alexander and Macey. That I see clearly.” I can’t help my smile and blame the wine. “So, if we can keep from killing each other, I might not regret my decision.”
“And you?”
“Who cares about me? Alexander and Macey are all that matter.”
“Fuck that as an excuse to waste your youth and beauty.”
“You hate talking feelings,” I dismiss aggravatedly, “which is why I invited you over.”
“True, but like you, I’ve become more attuned since I became a mother.
” She admits the annoying fact for both of us.
“I watched you grow from a scrawny, scared kid into a woman I respect. You deserve more than to let other men’s feelings stand in the way of what you want.
So”—her blue eyes drill into me—“kiss Alonzo without guilt, fuck that Marine, or both.”
“That’s reckless,” I say. “I can’t do reckless anymore.”
“That’s figuring it out and making a decision you so clearly have to make,” she argues, “because you’ve been idle for months. Though deep down, you know you’ve already made it.”
“You’re siding with him,” I snap. “I told you. He’s spoken for.”
“Can’t blame me for being a fan of the underdog, as one myself, but in truth, I’m siding with you, and what you both wanted tonight,” she states.
I narrow my eyes. “You’ve made your decision, doesn’t mean I have.”
“He’s exactly the man you went for—a little unhinged now, but you know damn well how hard that level of control is to maintain.
I guess that’s why I can understand where he’s at: because I’ve been there.
Not that it’s an excuse … but I guess the bigger question is, how long are you going to punish him for it? ”
Just as I go to speak, the villa door bursts open, and we both jump to our feet. Guns drawn and aimed just as Daniello pops into the doorway, toting a bloodied man resembling—
“Tyler,” I gasp, eyes bulging at the sight of him covered in blood, face rapidly swelling. Lips too, as they slowly start to lift … into a smile?
Equally confused, Taylor notices Daniello’s relaxed posture before we collectively lower our guns. Becoming more attuned a second later, her lips part with the irritated growl of her husband’s name. Her Southern twang making a rare appearance. “What in the ever-lovin’ fuckin’ hell have you done?”
“Merry Christmas?” Daniello chuckles, dragging Tyler over to my couch before unceremoniously dumping him on it. The height of it masking him from view just as his blood-crusted hand pops up from behind it.
“It seems I’m in need of a nurse.”
His head pops up next, face ghastly, as Taylor and I recoil in horror. At our collective response, he begins to rapidly blink me into focus with his good eye. “I’ve been the recipient of an ass-whoopin’.”
“A deserved ass-whoop, south boy,” Daniello butchers in reply before stalking over to Taylor, palming her face with his bloodied hand and kissing her noisily. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not late, jackass, you’re interrupting us. So, what? You kicked his ass and then …” She tilts her head, assessing Tyler. “… got him drunk?”
“You’re drunk?” I ask Tyler simultaneously.
“Li’l bit.” Tyler holds his fingers up an inch before widening them more.
“He was whining.” Daniello rolls his eyes as Taylor scowls at him.
“Oh, yeah? Is that why you’re drunk too?”
“We had much to discuss and drank a few bottles,” Daniello excuses, holding four fingers in a true count as I gape at the Quasimodo freshly delivered on my couch. Seeing my upset, Daniello’s eyes follow as he takes Tyler in, having the good sense to look somewhat remorseful. “He needs ice.”
“Ice? He needs a fucking ambulance,” I growl, gawking at Tyler, who looks like he’s just done ten rounds with Mike Tyson. “What in the fuck, Daniello? He’s going to scare our babies!”
“Oh.” He hangs his head. “No, I did not think of that.”
“You didn’t think at all,” Taylor fires venomously, and Daniello begins shrinking under her wrath, offering a pitiful defense.
“I did not come out unharmed, look.” He points to a knuckle-sized raspberry on his cheek. “I am in need of a nurse, too.”
“Then you best go find one, asshole,” Taylor snaps. “You’re ruining girls’ night.”
As they go back and forth, Tyler keeps his glazed eyes on me, a dopey expression lighting his face as he speaks. “You look so pretty tonight, little mobster.”
“Both of me?” I counter dryly.
He nods, his slow wink looking painful in execution. “Got any more of that wine?”
“Nope,” I lie, sighing and turning to Taylor. “I’ve got him … Jesus, so much for a normal Christmas.”
Stalking into the kitchen, Taylor follows on my heels with her reply. “Hate to break it to you, donna, but as you well know, in the mob, normal is the real fantasy.”
Working together to collect what little ice we can from the freezer, we both glare at our bloodied intruders before I zero in on Daniello. “Why?”
“We had differences of opinions to settle,” he claps back unapologetically.
“And it had to be tonight? Because thanks to your bullshit, unless I get him looking somewhat normal, he might have to miss his first Christmas with his kids!”
“Really?” Tyler asks in genuine surprise. “I don’t feel that bad.”
“You look like roadkill,” Taylor supplies.
“I believe I made improvement,” Daniello snarks as Taylor steps up to him, eyes going nuclear.
“Had your fun, did you?”
Undeterred, Daniello whispers suggestively, “Fun is later.”
“Pfft,” Taylor counters, “your fun will be you waking up with our son in a few hours. Come on, jackass, let’s go.” She glances over at me with assurance. “He will pay for this. Rain check?”
I nod, walking back over to the semiconscious man on my couch just as Tyler calls after Daniello, who’s practically being dragged by his ear out of the villa.
“I demand a rematch due to the fact that I was not at the top of my game.”
“Name your day, south boy,” Daniello taunts, though it’s evident they’ve already reached some truce. Their collective grins amping before Taylor shoves him outside the door. Her scold and his fiery return drifting back to us as Tyler’s gaze lifts and holds mine.
“… can’t believe I married such an idiot!”
“… watch your mouth or I will quiet it with my cock.”
We both burst into laughter at that before Tyler eyes the door. “I knew it.” His eyes light up. “Sounds like another marriage to admire.”