8
“Youclean up nice.”
Gio stopped and glanced down at his navy dress shirt before cracking a smile. “Thanks.”
I could see what Amalia meant. The kid seemed out of place in this family. He didn’t have a malicious bone in his body, which made me wonder about his upbringing and what differences had made her into the woman she was versus this boy who beamed when paid a simple compliment. We all had a story, a rhyme or reason as to what led us to shed vital pieces of our conscience and morality.
Hers intrigued me.
“You know, she’s not so bad,” he said, breaking the silence.
“Who?” I tried to play it off as if I wasn’t aware of who he was talking about. I didn’t want him to know that I had those thoughts about Amalia. It was clear they were close.
“My sister. She’s not as bad as people think she is.”
The men she’d maimed and buried through the years would disagree.
“She’s beautiful.” It was the only honest answer I had to give.
In the week since I’d been here, we’d done nothing but fuck with each other. It was a strange sort of relationship off the bat, but maybe it was our way of avoiding the implications that our union would ultimately bring us.
Gio didn’t say another word for the duration of our walk to the dining hall. This gave me time to analyze his comments and the possible intentions behind them. Speaking highly of her meant that, in some ways, he approved of our relationship.
But if he believed the engagement was genuine, he wouldn’t need to sell her to me.
He knew.
I caught Gio’s arm and tugged him to a stop. Voices poured in from around the corner, so I made sure to lower mine to a whisper. “What do you know?”
“I know my sister. And that’s enough to know this whole marriage thing is for my parents and the lawyers.” He focused beyond me. “I won’t tell. I know why she’s doing it. And I’m glad it’s you and not Rocco.”
“Rocco?” I remembered he’d brought up his name a few days ago.
“You’ll meet him at dinner. He wants to marry Amalia.”
“Does he?”
Gio nodded again and peered nervously around the corner. “But she doesn’t love him.”
“She doesn’t love me either, kid.”
“No, but she can learn. Show her.”
Show her.
Of all the impossible…
We stepped into the formal dining room, and I never knew what it felt like to experience a rush of air leaving my lungs unless it was due to a fist to the abdomen, yet there I was, eyes on her, attempting to catch my breath.
Amalia’s once-long black hair was cropped, sitting just on her shoulders. The ponytail I’d wrapped in my hand days ago was gone. But I wasn’t mad. She looked goddamn edible. My perusal was short-lived when a man’s hand snaked around her waist. I had never seen him before, though I imagined it was Rocco.
I cracked my knuckles and clenched my fists. Real or not, touching what was mine was outright disrespectful, and I didn’t appreciate being made a fool.
Maybe Amalia noticed the hole I was searing into the side of Rocco’s face.
“Kai,” she said, moving toward me immediately. As if rehearsed, I pulled her to my chest at the same time as she levered up to press her lips to mine. But I crushed her to me, hand in her hair, deepening the kiss.
Our first kiss.
My cock stirred at the sound and sensation of her soft moan inside my mouth. Amalia tasted fucking divine, and I couldn’t help the urge to know what the rest of her would feel like on my tongue.
Conscious of her family’s presence, I reluctantly pulled away, kissing her one last time before combing my fingers through her freshly trimmed hair.
“Maybe that was a little too convincing,” she whispered.
“You cut it,” I said, ignoring her.
“You’re observant.”
“Why?” The question tumbled out, and when the edges of her mouth twitched, I quickly regretted possibly making her feel as if I didn’t like it. As if she didn’t look fucking exquisite.
Since when did I care about hurting her feelings?
Amalia fisted my shirt and dug her nails into the side of my ribs. “Have you already forgotten your little stunt from the other day?”
I leaned into her ear. “It’s perfect, vicious. Just means I get to hold a little tighter while you scream for me.”
“You’re a cocky son of bitch.” She laughed, lips brushing my ear. “You’ll never hear me scream for you, Cain.”
My arm curled around her waist. “Challenge accepted.”
A throat cleared behind us, and Amalia clapped my chest, twisting around to introduce me.
“Rocco, this is my fiancé, Kai Cain.”
His smile was tight, eyes on me for just a fraction of a second before they were back on Amalia. I decided then that I didn’t like him, didn’t like the way his grin shifted and his eyes darkened. And it wasn’t my M.O. to play nice with people I preferred to see choking on their own blood.
“Kai!” Isabel looped an arm through mine and escorted me toward the table. Amalia resisted, but I dragged her with me.
“Fuck him,” I whispered near her ear.
“Have I fucked him, you ask?”
My hold on her wrist tightened. It was meant as a joke, a dig at me, because she loved this game of seduction and provocation as much as I did. And while I knew she had a past, the thought of her sleeping with this bastard made my blood hot. He wanted her. That much was clear.
“Don’t provoke me. Not here.”
Her deep red lips dipped between her teeth as she mulled over my words, nodding subtly as understanding dawned. Killing Rocco wouldn’t exactly bode well with her family.
Dinner was, for the most part, uneventful. The food was delicious and kept everyone occupied enough that the conversation was slow. Aside from the fleeting glances between Rocco and me, the atmosphere remained light. It was a strange feeling, but in some ways, comforting. I couldn’t pinpoint a time in my life when I sat at a table as a ‘family’ besides Derek and Eva’s.
This was different. In a good way.
“Kai.” Isabel’s voice broke my thoughts. “I assume my daughter has shown you her studio.”
“Mamá,” Amalia interrupted with an annoyed groan, forgetting for a split second that I was supposed to be the love of her life. “I mean, of course, I have. But—”
“Oh, stop! I know you hate the attention,” Isabel said with an eye roll. “But let me brag. I’m your mother. It’s what I’m supposed to do.”
Amalia brought her fork to her lips and forced a smile. “Please, continue.”
“Thank you.” Turning back to me, she said, “Amalia donated a beautiful portrait to next week’s local art auction.”
My future wife was an artist, a talent she had yet to share with me other than as part of a cover story and strict guidelines on a contract. I’d been curious to see her talent and wondered which of the paintings displayed around the Villa had been created by her hand.
“All the proceeds will go to an organization back home called Carrusel, a home for orphaned children. Her idea!”
I covered Amalia’s hand with mine and squeezed as an unfamiliar emotion filled my chest. She met my eyes.
“That’s very generous but not surprising.” But that was a lie. I was stunned to hear of this side of her, and her choice of charity did not go unnoticed.
A woman’s heart had never mattered much to me, but maybe she was changing my mind.
“So, how did you two meet?” It was the first time Rocco had addressed me since we’d sat at the table. He had a glass of scotch in hand.
I reached for Amalia’s hand. The story she’d spun and had made me memorize was hanging off the tip of my tongue, but I thought I’d give it my own spin just to fuck with him.
“I’m glad you asked,” I said, knocking back my drink. “Even though we’ve been together for the last six months, we actually met four years ago.”
Amalia choked on her water and gave my hand the grip of death. “Breathe, baby,” I crooned into her ear, and she tensed before releasing a breath. “Good girl.”
Her eyes slid toward me, and I met her gaze and winked.
“Oh, you never told me this part of the story!” Isabel set her elbows on the table and leaned forward enthusiastically.
“That makes two of us,” Amalia muttered quietly from between her teeth.
“My brother and me, were out having the time of our lives, just tearing up the town. You know how that goes.” It was mostly true. “Derek was meeting his wife, but there was a communication issue, and they lost contact. So, while we were trying to locate her, that’s when we ran into my girl here.” I scooted her chair closer, and she pinched my thigh under the table. But I played it off and looped my arm around her shoulders. “You two have been together for a while, so you know that feeling when you see someone for the first time, and they take your breath away.”
Amalia was staring at me, intrigue written all over her face.
“She is stunning, isn’t she?” Rocco said from behind his glass.
Leaning over, I kissed the corner of her lips and watched her slowly close her eyes at the contact. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Gio snorted from his seat, suppressing a laugh into his glass of water.
“So, how did you find your sister-in-law?”
Amalia cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, Kai, tell her what happened.”
“Amalia. She saved the day.”
“The hero, huh?” Rocco chuckled darkly.
“Sure was,” I said, kissing her temple. “It took me a while to come back into her life, but I’m glad I did.”
“Oh, ?que belleza!” Isabel proposed a toast, and we all joined in, clinking our glasses together, with the exception of fucking Rocco.
“Amalia, I found this gorgeous little boutique—”
“Sorry, I need to get some air.” Amalia hurried out of her chair and left the dining room. My smug grin was gone. The point had been to mess with Rocco, not to upset her.