Chapter 18 #2
I rested the back of my head on the wall, wishing I could actually pound it into it.
What exactly was it that she wanted from me?
To lie to her? To fill her head with some ridiculous notion that I could wave my sword around and make everyone listen to me?
“What?” My mind buzzed with the knowledge that her hands were no longer on me.
“He has everyone in his pocket. Trying to change the narrative would do no good.” It was, in fact, already perfectly crafted by our legal team, about how we were taking every step necessary to protect our own, how the people of New York needed to remember to stay safe and lock their doors.
Her throat strained as she swallowed. “But if you—”
“That’s not the way to take him down.”
She rubbed her belly, averting her gaze as I rolled my initial ring around my finger.
It was a good thing that child wasn’t a Deluca.
Publicly, yes, but I meant genuinely. They would have nothing but tedious expectations placed on them.
Santo would no doubt teach them how to be like their nonno.
8 That was, if it was a boy. If she was having a girl, that would have been only slightly different.
They would be taught the same things instilled in Capri and Siena.
Just like the rest of us, they were screwed up in their own regard.
“Because you’ve done such a stellar job of it so far.” Her lip trembled, and she bit down on it, still not looking me in the eyes.
Stepping toward her, I trapped her chin with my thumb and forefinger, making her face me.
She shut her eyes in a defiant move. “I’m handling it.
” Hopefully, she heard that, and the words flooded through her system, so she could think on them the next time she had any bright ideas like her most recent one. “And he doesn’t see me coming.”
Her eyes flew open. “How can you be so sure?”
Cocking my head, I pitched my voice low. “Have you seen him retaliate or do anything to position himself one step ahead of me?”
Nothing more than our breaths consumed the air.
“Exactly,” I said quickly, roaming my finger over her jawline before leaving.
She toyed with the chunks of hair framing her face. “So, what you’re telling me is, he got what he wanted.”
I nodded. “Two times over again.” Not that it was what she wanted to hear. “He got to invest and he scared you.”
A crease appeared on her forehead. “That—”
Holding up a hand, I sighed. “Anything you’re about to say, I have likely already said.”
Shrewd son of a bitch.
Ruthless bastard.
Calculating.
Manipulative.
Evil.
“Some of your brothers wouldn’t dare go up against him.
” Her hand came between us, and I couldn’t bear it if she went to touch me like I suspected she was going to, making me out to be some sort of hero.
If anything, I was the opposite. It wasn’t something to be proud of that I was going after my father. It was treacherous, actually.
Clearing my throat, I gripped the back of my neck. “Listen, I know Dario comes off as a teddy bear, but he really does have teeth.”
“Dario?” She snorted. “Let’s be real. I can see him causing damage.” Angling her head, her eyes glowed with empathy, like she could see through me and what I was doing in my attempt to deflect.
Not wanting to get into that exactly, I steered things back to her initial point.
“You’re right in that some of them wouldn’t want to, but wrong in the sense that when push comes to shove, we aren’t all similar.
” Carmine, Rocco, and Lorenzo were who I had in mind.
They were all fighters and just needed to be given a reason to kick that instinct into high gear.
“Look who raised us.” The only person I didn’t consider or factor into this was Dom.
He was a completely different ball of wax.
She shook her head, as though either not wanting to see it as true or not wanting me to think about it that way. “Cecilia also raised you,” she whispered unnecessarily.
All the soft sound did was cause shivers to creep across me. “It’s not the same. Our father taught us a code to live by.” I placed one hand in the other, slapping the side of it in my palm with each beat. “It’s his company, his connections, his legacy.”
Drawing her eyebrows together, she ran a hand down her opposite arm. “Why didn’t you walk away from it? Like Dom.”
Turning around sharply, I mindlessly banged my fist on the locked doors.
Suddenly, there wasn’t enough room for both of us to breathe.
Or I had forgotten how to. How did she expect my answer to go?
Did she want me to be candid about it? Because, in this particular instance, that was all I could offer her.
The very sad, disappointing truth. “I wanted to be with my family,” I answered, ruefully.
Her hand connected with my bicep, and I glanced down at it. So did she, and our eyes found each other’s before I turned back around to her. “That’s—”
“Foolish,” I said before she had a chance to finish.
“Brave. I was going to say brave.”
I searched her expression for amusement or anything that would betray her words because that was all that made sense to me, that she was kidding, throwing me a bone, for whatever reason.
But I didn’t find any of that, only a fleeting flash of compassion.
“The moment I realized I was going to basically throw myself to the wolves, I got my first tattoo to remind me there was no reason to fear Santo or my brothers, like Vito. I didn’t always agree with them.
In fact, most times I didn’t, but they step into their pants the same way I do, one foot at a time. ”
Her eyes lowered, scanning my arm. “Are you talking about the birds?” Four black birds, encircling the top of my forearm, represented the past, the present, the future, and the unknown. How they all lived together, flew together, but were distinct.
“No.”
She looked up at me through hooded eyes before giving into a temptation that was practically written all over her face by tracing her finger over them.
My pulse ricocheted. It felt like she was touching me so deeply, she was going past the layers of my skin straight to the bones that made up my body, holding me all together. “Another one. You wouldn’t have seen it.” She had this miraculous way of making me feel like no scar couldn’t be healed.
“Wow, okay.” Her hand reached down to my fingers, but I pulled away before she got any ideas of lacing hers through mine. It was bad enough my heart was climbing already. “I have to say, I wasn’t expecting that from you.” Her eyes widened.
“Care to elaborate on whatever fantasy you’ve got going on in your head?”
Throwing her hands up, she frowned. “I mean, no judgment. I’ve never seen one with it personally, but I know plenty of guys get tattoos on their junk.
” Now her expression changed, biting the corner of her bottom lip as her gaze jerked over my body before landing squarely where she obviously wanted it to be.
“You think I have ink on my dick?”
“That is what you’re saying, isn’t it?”
“That’s what you’re saying. What I’m saying is that I have a tattoo on the inside of my bottom lip.”
She hummed her approval, but the word that fell from her mouth was simple and almost noiseless. “Oh.” Very unlike Brooklyn.
“Want to see it?” I asked, not making a move to have this be easier on her. If she wanted to see it, like I suspected she did, she was going to have to go for it and take what she wanted. Just like she did in every other aspect of life. I couldn’t possibly imagine why she wouldn’t in this regard.