19. Carina
CHAPTER 19
Carina
S omething inside me breaks. What, I have not a clue. But something inside me that was blooming because of him withers. And there’s the bitter taste of betrayal in my mouth. What’s worse, the flare of pain I feel in the cavity of my ribs.
And for once my eyes fail in concealing it.
Damn him.
Fucking damn him.
“Carina,” he says my name in half warning and half apprehension.
And as he lays his hand on my arm to steady the emotions whirring inside me I don’t find the calmness. I only feel the storm.
In the eye of that very storm is the man who was becoming the life raft.
How could I have ever been so dense?
“Equals,” I say to him and only him. He cocks his head to the side, his eyes studying me intensely. “Blindsiding me isn’t treating me as an equal.”
His hand travels from my arm to my hold my hand in his. He brings it up to his chest, over his heart.
And while there are other people present it’s only him and I at this moment.
Hell, it’s only ever him and I when our eyes meet.
His voice is low, loud enough for only me to hear. “You wouldn’t have come.”
My fingernails bite into the skin of his hand. He doesn’t wince nor acknowledge the bite of pain. “You’ve always given me a choice.” It pains me to admit it, but it’s true. Constantine has always given me a choice. Something I’ve been denied since the day I was born. Something I truly felt the loss of after my re-birth. I swallow past the bitterness, past my own pain. “Today you have denied me of that.”
“Carina-”
I interrupt before an excuse can pour from those lips. “You didn’t respect me enough to make my own choice. You. Didn’t. Respect. Me.” And perhaps I’m done beyond the point of caring to hide how I feel. Perhaps I am to blame him for awakening me. For making me feel alive. Perhaps that’s why I can’t hide the pain in my eyes, the hurt in my voice.
And perhaps I want to hurt him back.
And by the look in his eyes, the loosening grip on my hand, and the smallest falter of a breath, my own pain has caused pain within him.
It’s there, for the briefest of time. Not even a second. But it was there and I caught it.
“Lovers quarrel?” I hear my brother’s voice break through our bubble. And as much as his voice chills me to the bone I try my damndest not to react. With my hand still in Constantine’s, my body close to his, I turn my head to find a sinister smirk on Luca’s face. A dark promise in his eyes. Something I’m all too familiar with. “I’m sure papa would love to hear how you are already failing him, cara Carina. What might his reaction be?”
My nails bite harder into Constantine’s skin. Enough to break flesh.
Memories of the cellar flash before me, causing me to relive my hellish nightmare. I can feel the cold hard cement biting into my knees. My wrists burning from the rope tied to the pole. The tear of flesh from the lashes. And I hear it, his malicious laugh from my cries as I break before him.
Before I lose myself in the darkness Constantine brings me in the light. He wraps a protective arm around my waist and pulls me flush against him.
And as much as I am hurt by him, my body recognizes the safety he provides.
Luca may be a predator but to Constantine he’s merely prey.
The only way to fight a monster is to become one yourself. But what is a monster to a Devil?
“Luca,” Constantine addresses him in a calm yet cool tone, “is that a threat I hear regarding my fiancé?”
Apprehension registers in his eyes but he doesn’t heed it. Instead he becomes bold and says, “She may be your fiancé, Constantine-”
“Signore,” Constantine corrects him and Luca’s cheeks redden. “And before you finish your idiotic sentence I do hope you enjoy receiving pain as much as you enjoy inflicting it.”
And his cheeks redden further. Not only has he embarrassed him, he’s threatened him in my honor.
A Made Men never threatens in his woman’s honor. Not in our world.
Luca’s blue eyes harden on mine. And I see the thoughts playing out in his head. I see what he would do if he could lay a hand on me. But he can’t. And it’s killing him.
“Now, now, brothers,” Marquise says in peace, stepping before the two with his charming grin. “We are here to talk about business. And I sure would love to make all of our wallets heavier.”
“I, for sure, would love a raise if this happens,” Pietro chimes in from behind us. All aloof with his boyish charm that eases the tension better than Marquise tried to.
“Pietro,” Constantine says.
Pietro steps up beside me and snickers, “Put in a good word for me, would you, Carina? I’d like to buy one of those fancy cars instead of stealing it from him all the time.”
A twitch of my lips happens before I can stop it. Pietro smiles triumphantly.
“Pietro,” Constantine says again but this time with amusement.
“You know what, he’s right. There wouldn’t be a thrill for me if I had one of my own.” He shrugs nonchalantly and I can’t help but feel his infectious golden retriever attitude.
Constantine rolls his eyes but it’s all in good nature. “Let us conduct business. Marquise,” he addresses and Marquise’s ears perk at the command, “as you know The Fiore Famiglia will be united with mine as Carina and I wed. As an act of goodwill and faith I will be appointing Luca to handle business with you from this point on.”
I school my surprise, remaining stoic. One, I didn’t expect Constantine to merge business with my Famiglia without our union. Two, I didn’t expect for the business to be only such a small share.
If what Constantine told me is true, which I do believe it is, Marquise only distributes and manufactures a small fraction of the drugs. His larger operation must come from outside the U.S. As intelligent as Constantine is, he’ll never show that card, least of all to Luca.
This act of business proves one thing and one thing only; Constantine doesn’t trust The Fiore Famiglia .
What an intuitive intelligent man indeed.
Knowing this Luca’s eyes burn with rage. His jaw is tight and through clenched teeth he accuses him as just. “This isn’t what Don Fiore nor I had in mind.”
Constantine raises a cool brow. “And pray tell, what did you two have in mind?”
Luca is holding onto his sanity by a thread. While Elio was the most rebellious, Luca has always been the most hot tempered.
“The ports. Control of the ports.”
He and papa must be living in a fantasy if they believe Constantine will ever give them free control of the ports. Even I know the ports hold the most financial success. Why would Constantine allow someone else to take control of it?
“Are you implying that Marquise runs a small operation?”
Luca’s jaw clenches. He’s nearly at his boiling point. Only this time the aftermath won’t have me as a casualty.
Stiffly and with a tight smile sent over to Marquise he replies, “Of course not, but-“
“But?” Constantine chuckles darkly. “Let me remind you of something, Luca,” he spits his name with malice and I revel in it. The darkness in Constantine I can’t help but be enthralled by. “You may be an Underboss to your papa, but to me you are only a man. You work under me. You take orders by me. You do as I fucking say without a fucking word in edgewise. The very same goes for your papa.”
Luca grinds down on his molars. His nostrils flare. His finger twitches. He takes a step towards Constantine and Pietro intercepts him. Luca glares at Pietro with a thousand suns and he only responds with a cheeky smile. “Move.”
Pietro snickers. “Just like you I only take orders from the boss.”
“I’m not a soldier,” Luca sneers.
Pietro takes a step closer to him. Nose to nose, eye to eye. The only difference is Pietro’s smaller physique. “From where I’m standing, it doesn't look so different to me.”
And while Pietro has a bright light inside him, I see it’s the violence that brings him the greatest thrill.
He wants Luca to react with a strike of his fist so he can return it tenfold.
To Luca’s credit he’s intelligent enough to pick up on it. And so, he doesn’t give him the reaction he wants. He steps back and Pietro tsks disappointedly.
“This isn’t over, Constantine,” Luca dares to threaten him. I’ve never seen a man so bold against him.
“For you it isn’t, for me it is.“
“You’re making a mistake.”
“I’ve never known an Underboss to throw temper tantrums akin to children. Is this how you always conduct business?” Constantine eyes light with mirth. “If so, I’m rethinking giving you control of this operation.”
Luca’s eyes flicker over to me, hardening at the sight. My muscles become rigid as fear paralyzes me. I recognize the look in his eyes. I know all too well what happens.
Pain.
Indescribable, inscrutable pain.
And while I may be protected by Constantine and Pietro at this moment, I won’t always be guarded.
I’ll never be safe from him nor papa.
His eyes promise me that.
I’ll always be their pawn, no matter who has claimed me.
It sends an uncontrollable shiver down my spine.
Attuned to my body Constantine pulls me closer to him. Keeping his eyes on Luca he tilts his head to ask me softly, “Are you okay?”
And I want to cry. Burst into a puddle of tears from the affection of a man who has only known me for a matter of weeks.
How can he be so compassionate? How can he be so compassionate to me?
Steeling my spine I respond back coolly, “I’m okay.”
Without glancing away from me he dismisses my brother along with Marquise.
I can feel the heat of rage from Luca, but I don’t dare take a look. I refuse to break eye contact with Constantine.
“You can’t be serious,” Luca says with slight exasperation.
Constantine’s lips twitch with amusement, but not the good kind. It’s the kind that welcomes violence. An amusement that dances with sin. “I am. Leave, Luca. Before I make you.”
It’s a battle Luca must not want to fight, or one he knows he won’t win, because he stiffly retreats with Marquise without another word.
“You gave me a beautiful lie, mia leonessa.” His fingers bury themselves deeper in my flesh. And I loathe how my body responds. With want. With need. “What has happened to my unspoken truths?”
I’ve never known a man to be so hypnotic. It’s as if he’s casted a spell upon me. With every word I lean a bit closer to listen. With every touch I find myself craving the next.
He’s bewitching.
Constantly I have to remind myself that I must loathe this man, that I do.
I do. Loathe him. I do.
Or is that only another one of my beautiful lies?
“Since I’ve learned you enjoy them so, I refuse to give you another.” It sounds like I’m teasing him. And maybe I am. Maybe I’m teasing him as he teases me. But I do quite enjoy the fact that I can deny him. I have that power.
And after blindsiding me today with my dearest brother I want to deny him of everything he finds pleasurable.
“You say you’re dead and yet you’re angry with me,” he points out, sounding pleased.
“Don’t sound so pleased.”
“Oh, but I am.” He grins smugly. “You’re proving me right, mia leonessa.”
I turn to him. Eyes glaring, skin boiling. “I have done no such thing.”
“All these lies, Carina. Aren’t you tired of them?”
He says they’re lies but they are the only thing keeping me from succumbing.
“Why must you fight this? Can’t you see that you have already succumbed to me?” His knuckles graze my upper cheek, the light touch igniting my blood. His eyes, those dark compelling eyes, take notice of how my body betrays me.
And it always does. My body has succumbed to him completely. It starves for his touch. Waits eagerly for his gaze. Begs with abandon to be owned by him.
Constantine Donati has brought my body back from the dead and the only thing that stands in his way is my mind, which has not yet succumbed to him.
I hastily twist my neck, offering him the side of my profile.
His knuckles then graze the outline of my jaw.
And still, my body reacts to the featherlight touch. An undercurrent of electrical wires that zap and charge beneath my skin.
Damn him.
Fucking damn him.
I find the anger in me once again. The anger for not being in control. The anger of being thrust into a life I didn’t want. The anger of being held down and beaten. The anger of only being seen as a pawn for the benefit of someone else’s gain.
And the anger for the reason I became a damn pawn in the first place.
Him.
All so my papa and Luca can gain more power. In hopes that one day they will throw Constantine off the throne and regain their position.
My voice I don’t recognize. It’s harsh and biting. “Touch me again and I promise you, you will regret it.”