40. SCARLET
They're never innocent , repeats in my mind while I take a long, hot bath, luxuriating in oily bubbles that must have cost a fortune. They're never innocent . What does that even mean?
The reality of the world I've been thrust into slowly begins to dawn on me, creeping closer with every passing moment. This isn't just money and power; it’s blood and death, too.
My bravado of joining his family is slowly ebbing. This isn't just weapon and drug smuggling. People die! People have died. I'm still not ready to shed a tear over Hank and Marco, but… am I ready to be part of this?
Muffled yelling from downstairs only adds to my bedraggled state of mind. Earlier, I thought it was hot when I watched Antonio in all his furious glory. Even now, imagining what he looks like makes my insides flutter. What the hell is wrong with me ?
The worst thing is that I don't feel appalled. Not even a bit. I'm confused, hurt, unsure of my place in life, and… happy. So fucking, ridiculously happy, it's not even funny. Again, what the fuck is wrong with me ?
The wound on my shoulder blade stings. I guess even expensive bubbles can burn.
It's time to get out anyway; my fingers are already pruning. I forgot to take painkillers earlier, and the little episode on Antonio’s desk…
my eyes roll back just thinking about it…
didn't do my shoulder blade any favors. Neither did his grabbing my hips again.
I get out of the water and stare at his obvious handprints, and a smile curves my lips.
Gently, I move my fingers over the bruises. I like them.
What the fuck is wrong with you ?
Shut up, or I might get tattoos of his hands there , I threaten my stupid logical mind. And what do you know? It shuts up. Good.
Another thought enters me. The same as I had earlier this morning. Pregnant?
I rub my flat belly. Is there a little jellybean inside? As if on cue I feel a flutter, before the whiskey I drank earlier—fuck, I drank whiskey!—comes back up, and I empty my stomach right into the sink. Yeah, I definitely need to figure this one out. Quickly.
But… Antonio's baby?
You just lost it, remember? Just a few minutes ago, you were agonizing about this mafia life, and now you're all happy to bring a baby into it? If you're pregnant with Antonio's baby, he'll either never let you go, or you won't ever see that baby again . My heart hammers furiously at that thought.
No, he would never hurt me. Never. I know that with absolute certainty.
But do I really want this life ?
I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I try to think back only a few days—a week?
—ago. I go back in time and look at myself talking to Elli.
After everything that has happened, I don't think I'll ever be able to be that Scarlet again.
Not to mention, I'll be single for the rest of my life because there won't be a single man on this entire fucking planet who will measure up to Antonio.
Not that I want anybody other than him.
So, are you ready to give it all up for him ?
The answer is simple: Yes!
Then you need to live with the consequences .
I glare at my reflection as if saying goodbye to an old friend, and in a way, I am.
Because the old Scarlet is gone for good; she won't be coming out for girls’ night again.
But that's okay, because the new Scarlet will have a much more exciting— shorter !
My mind warns, which I ignore—life. Because my mind can't possibly know that, and even if it is true, I would much rather spend a year with Antonio living my best life than live sixty or seventy years alone and miserable.
After that short but life-changing internal debate, I head into my closet to select a new outfit—hopefully, this one will last past an hour or so—and take my painkillers before I once again descend the stairs.
The yelling in Antonio's office has subsided some, but I can still see his tendons prominently displayed when I enter.
"Passerotta, you look stunning," he greets me.
"Am I interrupting something?"
"No, we were just finishing up." Antonio sends meaningful glares at Vito and Igio. On cue, the two bow out.
"I didn't mean to kick them out." I walk over to Antonio, who folds me into his arms as if we had been separated for days instead of an hour or two.
"You didn't. They have work to do."
"Penance?" I ask with a small grin.
He scrutinizes me before his lips pull up. "Something like that."
"You're not sending them to have some poor woman's pinky cut off, are you?" I tease, ignoring my turning stomach at the thought. What the hell is wrong with you ?
"I was more thinking about a big toe," he replies, studying me, testing me. I can't help it; I shudder, and he laughs.
"Finally, I was beginning to worry you might be more bloodthirsty than I am."
I shake my head. "No, I tried, but… no, I don't think I can do this."
"You don't need to worry, passerotta. You don't have to do anything. I'll be right here to shield you."
"If this," I point between the two of us, "whatever this is, is going to work, I don't need to be shielded. I don't want to be shielded. Well, maybe from the gorier details," I amend. "But I want to know what is happening, okay? I need you to be honest with me."
"I've told you before, if you're in, you're in; there is no backing out. Ever."
I swallow and nod. "I understand."
His gaze lingers on me. "Give it some more time. I don't want you to make any life-altering decisions while you're in a very vulnerable state."
I am in a very vulnerable state. He's right. But dammit, I just decided what I want. "I don't need time, Antonio." I take a deep breath, summon my courage. You can do this, new Scarlet. "I'm yours."
He stares at me. If he says he doesn't want me…
"Are you sure?"
"More sure than I've ever been about anything in my life," I assure him.
"Your entire life will change," he warns.
"It already has."
He scrutinizes me, and I force a small chuckle. "If you're trying to talk me out of this because you don't want to m?—"
"Fuck!" He pulls me into his chest, his lips hot and demanding on mine. "There is nothing in this world I want more than you, Scarlet. You're mine. You have been mine since I first saw that fucking video."
"I'm yours," I repeat, pushing thoughts of the video and what he saw out of my mind.
"Mine!" His voice is filled with pride, and his expression reminds me of what I imagined those old conquerors looked like when they entered a captured city. It's fucking hot! My blood bubbles inside my veins with excitement. This is it.
"Let me make a call, and I can have an officiate in my office in a few hours," Antonio says.
"An officiate?" Is he going to make me sign a contract?
"To get us married." He states matter-of-factly. "A necessity. A proper proposal will come later."
"After you're sure I’ll say yes?" I tease, despite the hundreds of ants crawling up and down my stomach, doing the Macarena.
He grins, "I usually don't propose anything unless I'm sure of the answer."
"Hmm," I purse my lips.
He turns serious again, "Well?"
"I'm prepared to do what I must to stay with you," I say.
He raises an eyebrow at me. "What you must?"
I nod. "I'll do anything for our relationship."
"That's my line," he smirks.
"True." I agree.
He closes his eyes for a moment. "I have no idea how you weaseled your way into my life, my heart, this quickly."
"You think weaseled is romantic?" Honestly, I'm a bit stung.
"But here you are. Like a barb in my heart. Impossible to pull out without tearing my heart to pieces."
"A barb?" I cringe. This is really stinging now.
He sighs. "I mean, it's complicated. You're like quicksand under my feet; the more I fight, the deeper I sink in."
"Quicksand?" If this is his idea of being romantic…
Suddenly, he laughs and gets up from his chair to pull me up from mine and into his arms. "Scarlet, I don’t know how the hell this happened so fast, but I don’t question it—I don’t fucking care.
You are mine: my every thought, my every breath.
When you’re not around, all I can think about is getting you back.
And when you are with me, I can’t focus on anything but you.
"You hit me like a lightning strike—fast, hard, and without warning. I never stood a chance. One second, I was fine—hellbent on revenge, locked in a life that made sense. And then there you were. And nothing else fucking mattered anymore.
"I've never fallen like this. Never let myself. I didn’t even think I could. But you? You’re in my veins, Scarlet. You’ve taken over my head, my every move, my every goddamn heartbeat.
"You mean more to me than reason. More than rules. More than life itself. And if anyone ever tried to take you from me—if anyone so much as thought about hurting you—I’d burn the world to the fucking ground and smile while it turned to ash."
My heart nearly drops in my chest. I think it actually stops beating for a moment, and when it picks back up, it's like a drummer on speed at the end of one of those old Rock Ballads.
Tears rise in my eyes because his words…
coming from him… I know they're true. He is the type of man who would burn the entire world down for me.
I wipe a tear away. "Antonio."
His lips crush onto mine, and his kiss tells me even more than his words did. It's deep, possessive, and tender at the same time.
"I worship the ground you walk on," he breathes against my ear.
That's when I know I'm lost. Utterly, completely, irrevocably lost.
And I like it.
"Lucky for you, I'm not going anywhere. No need to torch the world today." I wink at him. When I see his expression, I can't help but add, "The funny thing about barbs is they only hurt when you try to get rid of them."
He throws his head back and laughs.
Then he sobers. "I love you."