Chapter 13 Giulia
GIULIA
Alessandro: I need you.
Alessandro: Get out of there for a minute. Just a minute.
Alessandro: Don’t make me wait until tomorrow. I can’t.
I need to stop checking my phone. I should never have put it in my pocket before coming down for dinner, but then I didn’t expect the man I’m not supposed to be sleeping with to hit me with all these texts.
Because he knows I’m here, surrounded by my family, and there is still a streak of rebelliousness running through him.
He might have calmed himself down and not wreak havoc on everybody he meets anymore, but he can’t change who he is.
“What I would like to know is, when are we going to hear the pitter-patter of little feet running up and down the hall?” Mama asks as she cuts into a chicken cutlet. The woman is determined to become a grandmother and isn’t being shy about it.
“Are you trying to tell us you want to adopt a dog?” Luca jokes, earning him a scowl from her and laughter from Dante, who also gets a scowl as Mama turns toward him.
“I’m glad you both think this is so funny,” she grumbles, clicking her tongue. “But I take it very seriously. Family, legacy. These things matter.”
“No one is saying they don’t, Mama.” Dante exchanges a look with Sophia. “But we’re not ready yet.”
“Ready? What does ready have to do with it?” Mama throws her hands up in exasperation before pointing her fork at me. “At this rate, your sister will give me a grandchild before either of you.”
Be cool, be cool. She doesn’t know anything. It’s so easy to drown in paranoia when I’m hiding the biggest, most dangerous secret ever.
“Papa would have to let her out of his sight first,” Dante murmurs, winking at me from across the table. “And since that’s not going to happen…”
I swear to God, it’s like he knows this is the worst possible time to send a message.
Alessandro: Five minutes. Come up with an excuse between dinner and dessert. I need a taste.
Jesus Christ, my heart is going to explode.
I have to cut a bite of my chicken and shove it in my mouth.
Otherwise, I’m going to sit here, grinning like an idiot.
I might as well have a neon sign above my head, with an arrow pointing down at me.
Wanton slut. Yes, that’s pretty close to the truth. That’s what he’s turned me into.
Not like I’m complaining. And I’m not clueless.
We’ve only been officially sleeping together for a couple of weeks, and only when I find a way around my schedule.
I somehow convinced Papa that I have a study group on Wednesdays after my last class, which buys me an extra hour.
I’ve logged on to class a couple of times, too, rather than attending in person.
None of my professors seem to have a problem with it, but I know I need to pull back a little. Pump the brakes. Otherwise, it will be too easy to spiral out of control and completely lose sight of my life before Alessandro became such a huge part of it.
It’s obvious he’s not going to give up without a response, so I keep the phone in my lap, half hidden by the tablecloth.
Me: You’re going to get me in trouble.
Alessandro: That was the idea. Don’t make me come in and look for you.
The thing is, I don’t know if he’s joking or not. I wouldn’t put it past him, let’s put it that way. He’s done much worse.
And there I go again, reminding myself what a terrible person I am for even having a personal relationship with him.
Add in the fact that we’re both at least partially naked a lot of the time, and you have a recipe for one complete, backstabbing Judas who doesn’t deserve to sit at this table with her family.
“Who are you so busy talking to?” My cousin, Francesco, elbows me, leaning over like he wants to get a look at my screen.
“Mind your own business,” I retort, nudging him away.
“We don’t use our phones at the table,” Papa reminds me. “Once a week, can we sit here together as a family without distractions?”
“Thanks a lot,” I whisper to Cesco when Papa returns to his food.
“Follow the rules, and you won’t get in trouble,” he retorts with a shit-eating grin.
He’s so full of crap, and we both know it.
Sometimes, he acts more like a brother than my actual brothers do.
Unlike them, he pays enough attention to tease me and get on my nerves the way big brothers are supposed to.
All my brothers do is piss me off in general and make me want to bang their heads together.
“Maybe she’s got a boyfriend now that she started school,” Sophia muses. Her eyes twinkle when they meet mine. “Maybe she’s met a hot college guy.”
“Can we not talk about my baby sister and hot guys in the same sentence?” Dante asks, rolling his eyes.
“She’s eighteen,” Emilia reminds him, while Luca groans. She gives him a sour sort of look, the way I’ve seen Mama look at Papa a million times. “Oh, and you were such a saint when you were eighteen? I’m sure you were scared of girls.”
“Afraid they would give you cooties,” Sophia adds. The two of them share a laugh and remind me why I’m so glad they’re here. And why I suck so very much.
“Let your sister have a private life,” Mama tells the boys, then narrows her eyes at Cesco. “That includes you. She’s a good girl. She deserves to enjoy herself a little.”
Yep. I am going to hell. There is an entire suite with my name on it. Extra hot. Lots of brimstone.
If only they knew how much I’ve been enjoying myself. We sure as hell wouldn’t be sitting here, enjoying a nice, happy dinner. For once, there hasn’t even been any tense business talk. Papa even seems like he’s in a decent mood, relaxed and content to eat his food and enjoy his family.
And we need to keep it that way. The memory of him looking so ill and weak makes me sick to my stomach every time it pops up, which it tends to do whenever I feel especially guilty. It could literally kill him if he finds out.
Though I’m pretty sure he would hold on long enough to kill Alessandro first.
Alessandro: You leave me no choice. I’ll be in soon to find you.
Really, this is totally unfair. He’s the first guy I’ve ever been involved with. I should be able to enjoy this openly, right? Other people do. I shouldn’t have to creep around like I’m in some Shakespearean drama where two families are at odds, and their kids accidentally get involved.
Maybe I shouldn’t think about that, since there’s no happy ending in that story. I’m not going to go out and like, invest in poison or anything.
“Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” Dabbing my mouth with my napkin, I push my chair back from the table.
Nobody is paying much attention—Dante and Sophia are busy talking about what they might like to do for their honeymoon, which they skipped out on after the wedding.
I guess it made sense at the time, given their arranged marriage and everything.
It was weird enough for them to share a house, much less a hotel in some romantic location, when they didn’t even know each other.
The fact that they can even consider it tells me things are starting to calm down a little bit around here. There has been no further violence from the Scarpetta family or any of the others since the explosion a few months ago.
But no big surprise, Papa won’t loosen the restrictions he put on me. That’s why I’ve had to get creative when it comes to the extra time I spend away from his watchful eye.
As soon as I’m out of the dining room, I take my phone out of my sweater pocket. Since when did my life become so full of secrets and intrigue? I glance over my shoulder to make sure I’m alone before sending a text.
Me: Where are you?
He must have been waiting because he responds right away.
Allesandro: Back patio.
This is wrong.
It’s a mistake.
So why am I walking in that direction?
Cutting through the kitchen, carefully opening the French doors leading out there. The sun has just set, and the sky is clear, so the night’s first few stars are twinkling as I wrap my cardigan tightly around my body, my eyes scanning the darkness.
Finally, he ends the suspense by whispering, “Over here.” He’s at the far end, where the curved balustrade touches the wall. The potted palms over there, combined with the deep shadows, create a perfect hiding spot.
And now the world is bright. That’s the magical thing about him. I didn’t know how bored and lonely I was around here, even after the girls came to live on the grounds, until he came along. There’s something to be excited about now. Something to look forward to.
I trot over, whispering fiercely, “You are going to get me in so much trouble—” The rest of my half-hearted chiding cuts off when he covers my mouth with his and takes my breath away.
I needed this. My soul is singing, the world is spinning, and I know it’s dangerous, but I can’t help myself. I want him too much.
“Fuck, I’ve been going crazy.” He’s panting by the time we come up for air, hands moving over my body like he’s already committed it to memory and knows exactly where to touch me, how to touch me, and how to drive me insane.
I have to bite my lip to hold back a helpless whimper when his hand slides down my back to cup my ass.
When he pulls me in tight, fingers digging in, my pussy responds with a flood of wetness.
“Me too,” I admit, kissing him again, touching a hand to his chest so I can feel his heart thumping like mine is. “I was counting the minutes until tomorrow morning.”
His dark eyes shine in the darkness, almost hypnotizing me the longer I stare up into them. I would do anything he asks when he looks at me this way. I’m completely under his spell, for better or worse.
I have to at least try to put up a fight, though. If only so I can look at myself in the mirror. “You shouldn’t send me messages like that when I’m at dinner, though. You know what would happen if anybody found out.”