9. Saverio
9
SAVERIO
I t takes me a minute to gather my wits. My first instinct is to strike fear into Dante’s heart and prove he’s not the only big, bad wolf in this parking lot. Despite his history of brutally beating men to death with his bare hands and tearing their throats out with his teeth, I’m not afraid of him. However, setting him straight would reset my progress with Lucia.
Ignoring the sharp pain in my jaw, I lunge forward and grab Dante’s shirt, yanking him close until his face is only inches from mine. My grip tightens on the fabric, threatening to rip it apart as I seethe with anger and frustration. “You’re lucky I love your sister, or else I’d break your fucking jaw.”
“Go ahead,” Dante snarls at me. “I’d love to see you try.”
I shove him with all the force in my body, then watch as he scrambles to catch himself before falling, but he hits the ground with an audible thud. “Grow up, Dante. Stop acting like a child.”
“Stop acting like a bully,” he retorts from the ground. “My sister said you threatened her. What did you say to Lucia?”
I knew Lucia would withhold part of the story from him. If Dante knew that I had fucked his baby sister in her classroom and she came on my dick like a water fountain, he’d have come out swinging with more than a tap to the jaw. Even though I have every right to have sex with my betrothed yesterday, today, and every day until we die, Dante doesn’t want to believe that Lucia would spread her legs for the likes of me.
“Answer me, Castiglione,” Dante demands, his stance tense and ready for a second round. The muscles in his arms bulge as he rises to his feet, a look of determination etched into his features. “She said you came to her classroom. What the fuck were you doing going to her place of work?”
He’s exhausting; I don’t know how his wife puts up with him every day. “She’s my wife, Terlizzi, I’m allowed to go wherever the fuck I want.”
“ Future wife,” he corrects. “You aren’t married yet.”
I scoff and wave him away with a dismissive gesture, my hand slicing through the air like a blade. “Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe,” I retort. If it’s a matter of paperwork and ceremony, I can have that done by morning. If he tests my patience again, he’ll find out how quickly I can resolve this current-future wife business.
“Why do you want her to get her birth control implant removed?”
A smile spreads across my face as I listen to Dante recount the tale his sister told him. Lucia spins half-truths when it comes to her brothers. She’s a master at carefully choosing what to reveal and what to keep hidden. For instance, she won’t tell her twin brother about me popping her cherry on prom night, but she’ll happily fill him in on how I’ve been mean to her lately. And while she won’t mention the mind-blowing orgasm she had while I was fucking her in her classroom, she’ll tell Dante about how I’ve been pressuring her to get rid of her birth control. She’s a cunning little minx, using her charm and cleverness to keep everyone guessing.
“She’s my wife-to-be, Dante. I think asking her to remove her Nexplanon rod is something any man ready to have children would ask his wife to do.”
Dante’s hands ball into tight fists by his side, his body tense with anger. “She told me you threatened her,” he seethes. His eyes narrow as he demands, “What exactly did you say to her? And what do you plan on doing if she refuses to remove the Nexplanon implant?”
I don’t think he really wants to know what I will do to Lucia if she disobeys me. I reckon if I tell him, he’ll blow a gasket. “That information is reserved for her and me alone. If she chooses to share it with you?—“
“You know she doesn’t share anything with me,” Dante cuts me off. “She gives me breadcrumbs about what a shithead you are, and then I have to piece together whether I need to beat the shit out of you or let her handle it.”
“Lucia is a big girl, Dante.” I tighten my jaw to keep from going off on him. “Let her handle it.”
I can sense his deep affection for his sister, a fierce desire to shield her from harm. It’s a sentiment I can relate to, as I want to protect my siblings, too. Like Lucrezia, who I tried to defend against rumors and slander, but Dante made it impossible. His actions tore apart any chance she had of a bright future. He dragged her name through the mud, and with each action he took, he made me feel more helpless when it came to protecting her. Now, she resides in a convent in Italy, far from home and under the care of a distant cousin.
“She’s never wanted to be part of this,” he explains. “You, of all people, should respect that.”
My whole body tenses at the insinuation, my muscles coiling like a tightly wound spring. Before my oldest brother was killed, I lived a charmed existence. The weight of our family’s name and reputation never truly settled on my shoulders. I was going to make a name for myself in the world of real estate; I was determined to break away from the dark implications of being born a Castiglione. It was not an act of turning my back on my family; it was a deliberate choice to forge my own path and carve out a place for me in history.
But that was not my destiny. And it isn’t Lucia’s, either.
“Don’t ever bring up my family again,” I warn Dante. “You lost the right to talk about my family the day you set Lucrezia aside.”
He knows to hold his tongue. I released him from his vows to Lucrezia all those years ago with a stern warning, but now he’s testing my patience. I showed up to his and Adalina’s wedding; I discreetly slid an envelope filled with blood money into his pocket, along with empty congratulations. I have always been kind to the Terlizzi family, even though Fausto Terlizzi’s sons have shown me nothing but disrespect.
“Lucia doesn’t want to marry you.” Dante wisely changes the subject, his words hanging heavy in the air between us. “Don’t make her do this, Saverio.”
I open the door to my car and climb back inside. “What’s done is done, Dante. You chose to change your fate, but you can’t change hers.”