Epilogue
A lessandro – One Month Later
The happy laughter, clinking glasses and soft music seeps through the very walls, infiltrating the crevices of the closed door. I roll over on the bed, wincing, and bury my head beneath the pillow. Every movement still hurts, the skin grafts across my body requiring frequent dressing changes. I never should have come to Serena and Antonio’s impromptu engagement party. The whole thing was set up to prove to the other powerful crime syndicates that the joining of the Ferraras and Valentinos was a calculated move, not a kidnapping gone wrong.
I’m still surprised Serena agreed to the whole thing. I don’t doubt she loves the guy, but I never thought my eldest cousin would get married at all.
And to think, if none of this had happened, I would be the one about to get married. It turns out that the reason my Uncle Dante was initially unavailable to discuss Antonio’s ransom demands was because of me. He and Luca were on their way to meet my parents in China to arrange my marriage with the daughter of a rival family. I nearly lost my shit when I found out which was what sent me on that plane to rescue Serena. I’m not sure what would have been better, being forced to marry a stranger or dealing with this.
Footfalls and animated chatter echo out in the hallway, and I tense. For fuck’s sake, I just want to be left alone . The sound falls away a moment later, and I draw in a breath of relief. After a month in the burn unit at New York Presbyterian hospital, the best specialized facility on the continent according to Papà , I thought I was finally ready to face the world again.
But fuck, the sound of all that happiness only magnifies my misery.
Alessia wheeled me into the party in the hospital scrubs which hide the depressing compression garments underneath, the only asshole not in a suit or tux. I refused to come with my live-in nurse; the impossibly cheery woman only makes me feel like an invalid. After quick hellos to my family members, I only lasted out in the great room of Serena’s apartment for a minute before losing my twin and ducking into my cousin’s spare bedroom.
Still the muddled voices and contented laughter surround me, each happy sound only amplifying the bitterness in my heart.
How did I become this?
How did I fall so fast? From heir to the Gemini throne with women throwing themselves at my feet to this shell of a man with gruesome scars across half my body, barely able to walk, to fuck, to do anything by myself…
The door whips open, slams against the wall, and I mutter a curse for forgetting to lock it when I staggered in. Serena stumbles backwards, Antonio glued to her mouth, his hand palming her ass.
Oh, hell, no, this is the last thing I need.
“Don’t you guys have your own room to do that in?” I hiss.
Antonio releases Serena and she whirls around, eyes glassy from champagne and lust as they meet mine. “What the hell are you doing hiding out in here?”
“I needed a minute.”
Her eyes widen, the happiness from a moment ago, vanishing. “Are you okay? Are you in pain?” She rushes over to the bed, concern etched into her face.
“I’m fine, Sere, relax.” Since the moment I was released from the hospital in Milano and returned to Manhattan, she’s been hovering over me like a mother hen. She’s always been like that with all the cousins, but never to this extent. I know she feels guilty as hell for what happened in Milano. She thinks it’s her fault, that she owes me somehow, but her guilt only makes me feel worse.
And the pity…
That is the absolute worst of all.
It’s not only from her, but from all my family, which is why I’ve been avoiding everyone as much as possible. Seeing the pity in their eyes when they look at me is worse than the pain of the skin grafts, the wound care, the endless physical therapy, all of it.
“Maybe we should give Alessandro some time alone,” Antonio offers, curling an arm around her waist.
Smart man. As much as I despised the guy when they first got together, I can’t deny he’s perfect for her. And oddly enough, I don’t blame him for what happened. It was my father who’d been abducted all those years ago and the reason why he and my uncles killed Santiago’s mother. I don’t hold them responsible either, it’s the fucked-up world we were born into.
No, I should have been faster, should have been more aware of my surroundings. If anyone is to blame for me getting burned in that explosion, it’s me.
“Fuck that,” Serena shoots back at Antonio. “That’s not how we do things in the cousin crew.” She rushes out the door and shouts down the hallway.
“Oh, fucking hell,” I grit out as I hear her call for each of our cousins, one by one.
“I tried,” Antonio mutters, lifting his shoulders.
“How do you put up with all of us?” The question pops out unbidden as I force myself to sit up, gritting through the pain. In the past few weeks, I’ve found it easier to talk to Sere’s fiancé than my own family. Maybe it’s because he too survived being burned alive, or maybe it’s because he wasn’t close to his own father or siblings. Lately, they’re just suffocating.
A silly grin flashes across his face and instantly, I regret asking. “Because I know how much Serena adores all of you, and I love her.”
“Love certainly is a fickle beast,” I murmur.
“You’ll see one day.”
A cold, hollow laugh escapes. “I don’t think love is in my future, Toni.” Then I motion to my scarred neck and cheek, not to mention all the layers of bandages hidden beneath my loose-fitting clothes. “I look like a fucking monster.”
He shakes his head, that familiar flash of pity surging to the surface. But he masks it quickly, and it only takes me a second to remember why. He, too, bears the scars of the fire he survived. They’re nothing compared to mine, but still, I almost take back the callous remark. Luckily, he’s already speaking before I can figure out what to say.
“We’re all monsters one way or another, Ale. It only takes the right woman to look past our darkness, our flaws, physical or otherwise.” He offers a smile, and it’s a genuine one, not like the ones I receive from random strangers on the street when they stare at my bandages. “You’d be surprised how love can find you when you least expect it.”
“Right,” I grumble. Maybe I’ll find a hot, blind girl at their wedding next year.
Speaking of the bride-to-be, Serena bounds in with Bella, Raf, Matty, and Alessia trailing her. Antonio’s hand lands on Serena’s lower back the moment she’s in the room, the kind of casual, effortless touch I’ll never have again. With each of my cousins finding love, our cousin crew is growing exponentially. I should be happy for everyone, but my raging bitterness only swallows it up.
“What are you doing moping around in here?” Bella asks, a glass of champagne in her fist.
It isn’t only her gaze pinned to mine now. They’re all staring at me, watching, waiting, walking on eggshells. The worst part of all of this isn’t the scars, the pain, or the fact that I can’t even walk right. It’s the way they look at me. Like I’m already half-dead.
“I’m just not in the mood to dance,” I finally manage, flashing her a sneer before ticking my head at the bandages poking out from beneath the navy hospital scrubs I live in.
“No one said anything about dancing, grumpy.” She takes my good hand in hers, squeezing. Not that I’d ever admit it out loud, but Bella has always been my favorite. There’s just something about her selflessness and endless optimism that gets through my thick armor. Or at least it used to.
I don’t even recognize myself in the mirror anymore.
“Yeah, just have a drink.” Matty pulls a bottle of champagne from behind his back, and Alessia throws him a scowl.
“He can’t drink on the pain meds, you idiot,” she hisses.
“Aw, come on, let him have one drink. He looks like he could use one.”
I’m about to agree with my cousin when the last person I want to see marches through the door.
Rory Delaney roars in, her mane of fiery crimson hair wet and wild across her bare shoulders. She looks like she just jumped out of the shower and raced right over. She probably did when she noticed I’d escaped the four walls of my suffocating penthouse.
“There you are!” She jabs an accusatory finger in the air, the slight Irish lilt seeping through like it always does when she’s angry. “How could you just take off like that? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” She claps her hand to her chest dramatically, and I focus on her skimpy tank top and sleep shorts. This crazy girl ran over in her pajamas.
“Who is this gorgeous woman?” Matteo’s mischievous gaze darts between us.
I huff out a breath, the expanding of my ribcage only tearing at my delicate flesh. But I clench my teeth to hide the wince. The last thing I need is my new overzealous nurse proving her point.
“Yes, who is she?” Serena lifts a curious brow in my direction.
“Everyone, meet Rory Delaney, my new live-in—.” I can’t even force her title out because it’s too depressing. As a virile twenty-four-year-old male, admitting to needing a nurse is just embarrassing.
“I’m his nurse,” she blurts, marching closer to the bed.
I sit up as straight as the compression garments beneath will allow without tweaking my healing skin and meet her fierce emerald gaze. “And I’ve already told you, I don’t need one.” I should hate the infuriating woman, should send her packing with a single word. But for some reason, the way she storms in like she owns the place makes me want to see what happens if I push back.
“Well, that’s not what your father said, and he’s the one who hired me.” She offers a smile, flashing her teeth. “And the next time you leave the penthouse without telling me, there will be consequences.”
“You’re really going to punish me, Red?” I taunt, watching for a reaction.
She smirks. “Don’t tempt me.”
I stare at her, brows slamming together in surprise, and she glares right back. At all of five foot nothing, Rory Delaney is a fiery little thing. She looks like she walked out of a Celtic fever dream, all fire and fury. But something tells me she’s more than she seems… and that could be dangerous.
Strangest of all, she’s not even remotely intimidated by me. Even the women I used to bring back to my penthouse for a good fuck were. I’ve never been friendly exactly, and now I’m surly as all hell.
Matteo laughs, the sound cutting through the suddenly quiet room. “Well, Ale, I think you’ve met your match.”
I meet Rory’s gaze, bejeweled irises burning with something that makes my pulse spike.
Shit .
I might really be in trouble with this one.
Get ready for Alessandro’s story in Brutal Heir , coming in September!