Chapter 12 #3
“I’m not someone to be ‘handled’ or fixed,” I scoff, my feet beginning to walk in the backyard.
The whiskey settles warm and hot in my veins, sparking my ire.
“I planned to live alone for the rest of my life after Rosa got married. The bond was a selfish moment I gave into to tie her to me so I’d always know how she was.
I’m attracted to her and no one else. It’s always been like this.
How can a scent match just waltz in and confuse everything? ”
“Because he’s adorable,” Ciro laughs. “Pablo is typically in a good mood, smart as fuck, and genuinely wants to be helpful unless he’s in a petty mood.
He’s also very sensitive. I’ve been holding him at arm’s length since he first moved into our home and our father married his mother.
Being scent matched washes all the bullshit away, Verona. ”
The heavens fully open up after his statement and thunder roars. Tossing back the rest of the whiskey, I throw caution to the wind.
“What else do you want?” I ask. Men always want something more.
“Whether you mean to or not, your opinions matter to Rosalia. Throw us a bone.”
His usually bouncy hair is plastered to his forehead as he stands in the rain, calmly pouring himself another drink.
Coming closer, I allow him to fill mine as well as I think on his words.
I suppose I did remind Rosa to keep an open mind on certain things, but that didn’t have anything to do with them.
I want my girl to be happy.
“I’ve had Rosa to myself for seven years.
She turned twenty-one and almost followed me into death in the same day.
Show her there’s something to life worth living.
Also, for God’s sake, get your brother to stop acting like the only thing her pussy is good for is to put a baby inside of her,” I snarl.
“Yes, ma’am,” he smirks, sipping his whiskey.
I take an annoyed drink as well, gearing up to yell at him.
“Fuck. I completely forgot yesterday was her birthday,” Ciro sighs, focusing on my words. “I’ll organize something. She’s still barely eating. Cake would be overkill, right?”
“I think she’d prefer cornetto al cioccolato,” I suggest.
“They’re like chocolate croissants,” Ciro says, nodding. “Would she eat them for breakfast, or is that too heavy?”
“Chocolate for breakfast is something she’s never had before. Her father’s chef would dictate everything she ate.”
It’s almost as if we’re having a normal conversation, despite the thunderstorm raging above our heads. Ciro pretends raindrops aren’t rolling down his aristocratic nose or soaking his joggers as he chats with me.
“Gifts. Is there anything you’d like to get her?”
“I need to know my grandmother won’t be able to track me if I use my credit cards,” I sigh, shaking my hair out of my face. “I’ve never seen the old bat act the way she did before.”
“I didn’t ask you if you had the money, I asked what you wanted to get her.
” Ciro’s brows raise annoyingly to ensure his point gets across and I wrinkle my nose at him in kind.
“Come for a drive with me, and point if you’re going to suddenly lose your ability to speak.
Turning twenty-one is a milestone we should celebrate for her. I’m sure she made yours feel special.”
“We snuck off to a concert,” I admit. “We had a really good time. The Angelic Demons were in town on my birthday, and they were incredible.”
“I don’t suppose there’s anything playing that she might like to see?” Ciro asks hopefully.
“No, and it wouldn’t be safe,” I sigh. “It feels dramatic to say, but this city is smaller than you'd think. Everyone knows each other in some way, and I don’t want Renzo to track us.”
“Look at you, thinking like someone on the run.”
Pressing my lips together, I ignore him because that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.
“That was in bad taste,” he mutters. “So you’ll join me in shopping tomorrow?”
“I might end up having to stab you, and I’ve never stabbed anyone before.”
“Maybe I need incentive to be a good boy, then. I’ll wear a shock collar underneath my clothes, and you can have the remote. It’ll be the first of many of our kinky sex games.”
“I am never having sex with you, Ciro.”
Handing him the empty glass, I swallow back a scream as a streak of lighting lands disturbingly close to us. A flash of green explodes as the transformer blows, and I have a feeling we may not have power now.
“Does Savannah always have storms like this?”
“Yes, though I forgot how fickle the electrical pyrotechnics can be,” I grumble, trudging up the stairs to enter the house.
Ciro follows me, opening the door gallantly as he holds his items in one arm.
“Goodnight, Verona. You might want to take the pain medication that the doctor prescribed for you tomorrow. He texted it to me. I think we may have inherited old man Accetta’s physician.”
“Good night.”
I may have something to say about this so-called physician if he treats Rosa badly. She’s still sleeping when I dry off and change into new pjs. Thankfully, the house is still cool, though the fan is no longer moving.
Not being electrocuted by lightning definitely trumps not having power, so I’ll suck it up. Gotta find the silver linings somewhere.