Chapter 41 Carlo
Carlo
Monsters are often most dangerous when they're wounded.
I wasn't far away when Faro texted me, and the tracking device led me straight to her. And what did I find?
Wrath sings in me, drowning out my anguish, but just barely. I turn at the last moment, watching the men lead her away. My fucking stupid heart wants to call out to them, so I bite my tongue. She was with another man.
The stink of that foreign aftershave still clings to my jacket. Striding toward my car, I rip it off and then tear at my necktie and shirt, throwing them away like garbage. Everything is garbage, including the beautiful illusion I'd started to believe.
I feel like a fucking fool.
A fool like Sofia, a voice whispers in my mind.
Guilt slashes through me, of how carelessly I wounded an innocent girl, of how my actions drove her to rashness and running away. I wronged Sofia, and I can't make it up to her now, but her cousin has savagely avenged her today, driving a stake through my cruel heart.
In the car, I have a spare shirt. I throw it on, not bothering with the buttons. She was with another man. Whoever he is, I need to kill him. Very slowly.
The Ferrari roars in time with my fury, but, when I reach my building, the undercurrent of anguish takes over.
I can't breathe. The ride up to the penthouse passes in a blur.
Everything is a blur until my eyes land on the piano I gave her.
A vision of Francesca in her green slip dress with her red hair spilling around her soft shoulders swims in front of me. She was with another man.
After everything I've seen and done in my life, all the treason and backstabbing I've witnessed, how can this betrayal be so utterly crippling?
I should smash the piano to bits. That would satisfy the monster for a little while. The mere thought of acting on that impulse makes me want to vomit. My eyes burn in a way they haven't in many years.
"Carlo?"
I didn't think about Dinora being here. "Go home," I rasp, wanting solitude. I stare at my hands. Even now, I'd cut them off before raising one to Francesca.
"Carlo," Dinora says more firmly as she steps up to me.
The motherly concern in her tone makes my throat tighten. I don't deserve her concern. I don't deserve Francesca either, but I took her anyway. "Please, leave, Dinora. Don't make me tell you again."
She wants to argue, but it's been a long time since I was a little boy needing his tears wiped away. She retrieves her coat, giving me a silent pat on the hand as she passes by.
My phone rings five minutes later – Luca.
"Everything is fine."
"Bullshit. Dinora called me."
"Fucking hell," I mutter. "I can't talk about this right now. You've got more important things to deal with."
"Carlo-"
I end the call and shut my phone off, allowing misery to swallow me whole.
***
"I'm not in the mood for company," I tell Faro when he enters the penthouse three hours later.
He raises his eyebrows at the demolished coffee table before glancing at the perfectly intact piano.
"Too fucking bad. I've got some video to show you.
" He holds out his phone, and I accept it with dread, wondering if this is proof of her adultery.
"Some kid at the concert was recording and noticed this asshole shoving people. "
A tall man, a shaggy beard, roughly leading Francesca through the concert crowd. "That's Ronan Donnelly!"
"Yes, it is." Faro's voice is full of malice.
I want to click my goddamn heels together and dance on the demolished coffee table. Her brother was the other man. She didn't betray me. At least not that way.
"She wasn't with him long but maybe long enough to hatch some conspiracy against you or our famiglia."
"She wanted to see her brother," I reply, distractedly. I watch the looping footage over and over. She looks frightened and unsure as Ronan leads her toward those bushes where I found her.
"She lied, Carlo. She manipulated me to take her there so she could meet a fucking rat."
"Her brother wasn't the rat."
"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
"Consider your words carefully before you lump my wife into that proverb, Faro." He's angry over being tricked, knowing he fucked up. Not as badly as I have but still. "Is she settled at the hotel?"
"She is. Do you want me to bring her back here?"
I want him to. Fuck, I want her here beside me so badly I can't stand it.
But I hold my tongue.
Today has made it very clear how much power Francesca has over me.
Not physical power but emotional power, something I’ve never given much consideration.
After my behavior during my engagement to Sofia, I deserved that pain, but it also alarms and appalls me.
A Don can't be vulnerable. I must fortify the walls guarding my monstrous heart.
If you ignore a temptation long enough, it goes away, right?
"No, my orders stand. Keep her there."