Chapter 33: When She Tempts: Chapter 33

His gaze slides down my body. Closing his laptop, he sinks deeper into his chair and takes a generous swig from the glass. “You shouldn’t have come,” he says, his voice a rasp.

“You’re a fucking asshole.”

He doesn’t even try to defend himself. He just stares at me with a foreign expression, his lips drawn into a line, and his eyes dimmed.

“What the hell was that, Giorgio?” I demand, growing more and more irritated by his silence with each passing second. “I thought you sounded worried about me on the phone, but clearly, I must have been confused, what with being on the run for my life and all that. I can see now you don’t give a damn.”

His nostrils flare with an exhale. “You’re angry right now, but don’t you dare imply for one fucking second that I don’t care about you. The first real breath I took since you called me was after I saw you sitting in that living room, alive and unhurt.”

“Huh. So you decided to hurt me yourself, is that right? Did you look at me and think, ‘she can take it’?”

He takes another sip of his drink. Another deep breath. “There was no other option. In a perfect world, we could say our goodbyes in private, but that’s not the world we live in. What did you want me to do? Kiss you in front of your brother? Take you into my arms? You know I can’t do that, Mari. There was no other choice.”

I give my head an indignant shake. “Why are you so afraid of my brother finding out about us anyway? I know that when he asked you to take me, he probably didn’t envision us sleeping with each other, but so what? Life happens. Shit happens. You didn’t force me into anything. I wanted to be with you.”

He huffs a laugh. “That is not how he’ll see it.”

I clench my fists. “You assume my brother thinks I can’t make my own decisions.”

His eyes narrow with frustration. “You’re nineteen, Martina. I’m thirty-three and—”

“Who cares! We’re the Casalesi, Giorgio! Look at any clan marriage in the past five decades, and you’d be hard pressed to find one where the age difference isn’t that or worse.”

“And what do you think your future husband will say when he finds out you’re not a virgin?”

My jaw drops. “Nothing. The man I marry better not give a crap about things like that.”

“Every time you open your mouth, you expose your naiveté.” He tosses back the rest of his glass and stands.

“What naiveté?”

“Tell your brother you’re not a virgin and see how he reacts.”

“My brother isn’t like that. He doesn’t respect the old way of doing things, because he knows the old ways are broken.”

For some reason, this makes him snarl. “You’re blind, Martina, and you’re in for a rude awakening.” His eyes flick from my face down to my bare legs, and he grimaces like he knows it’s the last thing he should be looking at. “De Rossi can’t afford to disrespect the Casalesi traditions, his personal opinions notwithstanding. Do you even know what those traditions are? Or have you lived in total ignorance your whole life?”

When I don’t answer right away, he scoffs.

“Let me enlighten you. The big families marry their sons and daughters into the other big families. The only exceptions that are accepted are those that cement powerful alliances outside the clan. De Rossi’s wife happens to be one of those.”

“I can guarantee you Dem wasn’t thinking about that when he married Vale.”

“Maybe not, but it sure as hell was a fortuitous coincidence.”

“And what of your blood? You’re the don’s son.”

His eyes narrow. “I will never claim him as my father. No, I’ll die a Girardi, not a Gallo.”

“Even if that last name is all you’d need to have me.”

“Fuck. You still don’t get it. It’s not just the name, it’s . Your brother would never give you to me. He’d get nothing in the deal. You are his only kin. Marrying you is the only way someone could become part of his family. Do you know how valuable you are to him?”

“Dem would never force me into a marriage I don’t want.”

“De Rossi will do whatever he needs to do to secure his power.” He rakes his fingers through his hair. “Enough. This has gotten out of hand. We both knew this thing between us only existed inside the walls of the castello. No amount of arguing will change that.”

“You act like I’m the only one who wanted this,” I snap. “But it was who stole my book. It was who kissed me. It was who kept me in your bed for days and told me how I’m perfect, and tempting, and fucking everything!”

He shoots out of his chair. “Of course, I wanted it. I don’t regret a moment of what happened between us, but now that we’re with your brother, it’s done.”

“You’re scared. You’re scared to admit to Dem how you really feel about me.”

He advances on me, stopping only when our faces are mere inches apart. “I’m not the kind of man your brother would ever pair you with. De Rossi is giving me something I’ve wanted for more than half of my life. I won’t do anything to jeopardize that.”

A crack appears in my heart. “What is it that you want?” Clearly, it’s not me.

“Sal.”

My brows knit together. “Dem will kill Sal whether you want him to or not. He has to in order to become the don.”

“I’ve asked your brother to let me be the one to do it.”

My eyes widen. “But your precious tradition says the man who kills the sitting don becomes the next don.”

“It will be done in secret. As far as everyone is concerned, it will be De Rossi who did it. Do you get it now? I’ve managed to secure your brother’s trust. I’m not going to do anything to compromise that.”

When the dots connect, air empties out of my lungs.

Giorgio’s choosing revenge over me. Revenge for the woman who gave him life only to take parts of it away.

Revenge for a ghost.

His chest rises with heavy breaths. “I burned it, Mari. The cottage. After I buried Tommaso and Allegra, I burned it down. There’s only one more thing left for me to do, and I’ll be free. I’m doing this for my mother. And for you.”

I swallow down a sob and meet his eyes. “You’re doing this for me. I don’t fucking want your vengeance. And you’re already free. You’re just choosing not to see it.”

His expression wavers. “Mari…”

I whirl around and walk out of that damned room.

When I wake up the following morning, getting out of bed feels like the hardest thing in the entire world, so I don’t. I tell Vale I’m going to skip breakfast when she comes to collect Sophia for her walk, and then I fall back asleep.

It’s my bladder that finally forces me to consider leaving my warm cocoon. My head slides out from under the duvet, and not a moment later, a wet tongue meets my cheek.

“Someone feels better,” I say, giving Sophia a rub. She laps at my face, and I laugh. “Your breath smells, girl. I’ve got to get you some doggy toothpaste.”

She cocks her head to the side, probably wondering what an earth I’m blabbering about.

The conversation with Giorgio last night scratches at the edges of my consciousness, but I don’t want to think about it. What’s the point? He’s made himself clear.

I trudge to the bathroom. In the mirror, I examine my bruises. There are a few peppered over my legs and torso, but they’re not painful unless I press on them. I wash my hair, blow-dry it, put some light makeup on, and venture downstairs.

I find Vale and Dem in the kitchen. They’re standing by the island, but they’re so absorbed with each other they don’t hear me come in. My brother is holding his new wife in his arms, gazing lovingly at her face as she whispers something to him. He plants a soft kiss on her lips and smiles.

The sight of the two of them makes my chest warm, even if I feel like I’m intruding on a private moment. Was my brother this happy when we were all in Ibiza? Probably. I was just too out of it to notice. Even their wedding is a blur. A bitter kind of longing slips under my skin. It hurts to be alone after knowing what it’s like to share yourself with someone.

Vale senses my presence and turns toward me. Her eyes widen, and she lets out an awkward laugh and slips out of my brother’s arms. “You’re up!”

I grin at them. “Sorry for interrupting.”

Vale gives me a quick hug. “Don’t be ridiculous. We were just talking about how we were going to drag you down to hang out with us if you didn’t come out soon.”

Dem leans against the island, plucks a green apple from a big fruit bowl, and takes a crunchy bite. “Where is that pup of yours?”

“Resting in the bedroom. Also, she’s Giorgio’s, not mine.”

Dem cracks a smile. “I think she likes you better.”

I am a bit surprised Sophia hasn’t tried to go to Giorgio, but maybe she senses I need her more than he does right now.

“So what’s the plan for today?”

Finishing his apple, Dem tosses the core into the garbage and wipes his hands on a towel. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about, Mari.”

Valentina’s expression falls. “Give her time to settle in.”

Their eyes lock, and they stare at each other for a beat, engaged in silent conversation.

A sense of foreboding spreads through my lungs.

“Better sooner than later,” Dem says finally.

“What is it?” I ask, volleying my gaze between the two of them.

Dem places his palm on my back. “C’mon. We’ll talk in my office.”

Once we make it inside, I perch myself on the arm of a chair in front of his desk while he sits down across from me.

He doesn’t appear to be in any rush to say what he’s about to say, and his hesitation makes me nervous. My brother’s a straight shooter, always has been.

He scratches his cheek. Bites on the corner of his lip.

“Dem, you’re freaking me out,” I confess. “Just say it.”

He drops his palms on the desk and meets my gaze. “Do you recall meeting the Grassis?”

“Who?”

“They’re a family in the clan. You met them when you were… Well, about five or so.”

“Yeah, my memory isn’t good.”

He releases a tense chuckle. “Right. Well, I probably could have done a better job keeping you up to date on the big players in the clan, but it didn’t seem all that relevant while we were in Ibiza. The Grassis have grown into one of the most powerful Casalesi families over the last decade. Their cement business is booming due to the connections they’ve been able to establish with the local government, and they also control some of the most profitable factories in the area. They make perfect replicas of merchandise from some of the top fashion houses. Their exports to America have made them a fortune that almost rivals our own.”

I listen attentively, knowing this is more than just a history lesson.

My brother picks up a pen and spins it between his fingers. “Most of the businesses are run by the patriarch, Emilio Grassi, but he’s started to slowly hand off various subdivisions to his eldest son, Matteo. I’ve met with the two of them a number of times over the past few weeks, and we see eye to eye. They’re ready to support me if I can provide them with some kind of guarantee they will have an important place in the organization when I take over.”

“Your word’s not good enough?”

“As Giorgio recently pointed out, I appear to have a reputation problem,” he says dryly. “I’m a man of my word, but they don’t know me well enough to know that.”

“So what are you going to offer them?”

He twirls the pen again. “They made a suggestion I want to run by you.”

I snort. “I’m hardly qualified to advise you on these kinds of things. Vale would be far better at it.”

“Oh, Vale’s given me her opinion. I’m going against it by talking to you right now.”

The notch between my brows deepens. “Okay… Well, what is it, Dem?”

“They suggested a marriage. Between you and Matteo.”

My stomach hollows out.

Last night, when I was telling him Dem would never force me into a marriage, he knew that’s exactly what my brother was about to do.

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” I breathe deeply as the room spins around me. “It’s settled already.”

His forehead creases. “What? No, of course not. I told him I’d consider his offer, but that the choice will be yours.”

The spinning slows. “Is that true?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you about this, Mari,” he says, his voice softening. “You know that you and Vale are the most important things in my life, right?”

I swallow. “Yeah.”

“If this path meant sacrificing your happiness, I wouldn’t do it,” he says, his voice ringing with conviction. “But I truly think our lives will be better once I’m in power. You will be safer. We won’t be tormented by Sal anymore. We can live in Casal, our hometown, where our family has a deep and meaningful history. I’m doing this for the future of our family—one that I hope to grow with Vale one day. I don’t want our kids to grow up with the constant threat that you and I had looming over us.”

The thought of my future nieces and nephews getting kidnapped or seeing their friends get killed makes a heavy weight appear in my stomach. “I don’t want that either.”

Dem sighs. “I want to rule this clan because I believe I can lead it to greatness. This organization is already strong, but I can make it even stronger. Our father had a vision for the clan that he shared with me. He told me the Casalesi could be the fabric Italy is built on. We can thread through every organization of consequence in the country, from the lower-level federal agencies to the rooms that house members of our parliament. We can be ubiquitous. Our power unfettered. We can rule from the shadows, but we will be so rich and happy that we will have no desire to stand in the light. I want to honor him by bringing his vision to life.”

His words move me. I don’t have any memories of our parents. They died when I was too young. But Dem’s told me stories, and when he speaks about them, it’s obvious he loved and respected them very much.

“I know this marriage proposal is a lot to take in. This kind of an arrangement is common in the clan, but we’ve rarely talked about it,” he says.

“All this time, we lived in a different world, didn’t we?”

“In many ways, we did.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “I despised the isolation, but there were benefits to it as well. You were able to live a relatively normal life on Ibiza. And now that’s over.” He gives a shake of his head.

The hint of regret in his voice makes me sit up straighter. I shouldn’t have listened to Giorgio’s cynical words. I know my brother better than he does.

Dem’s always put me first.

He’s leaving this choice to me.

“If you’re feeling guilty, don’t,” I say. “You stayed on the sidelines for years to keep me safe. You’ve done everything for me, Dem. Now, I want to see you become don.”

I mean it with all my heart. My brother deserves to win this war, and if there’s anything I can do to help him, I have to consider it.

Smoothing my palms over my jeans, I meet his gaze. “Tell me a bit more about Matteo.”

Dem clenches his jaw and then pulls open a drawer and takes a folio out of it. He hands it to me. “Here’s his file.”

I open it, and the first thing I see is Matteo’s photo. He’s younger than Giorgio, looks like he might be in his mid-twenties. Handsome in a forgettable kind of way. There’s nothing about his face that stands out. Nothing that makes anything inside of me stir.

There isn’t even a hint of what I feel when I look at Giorgio.

God, why am I thinking about him?

Giorgio knew about this. He knew my brother had a marriage proposal for me, and he made peace with it by all accounts.

He chose revenge over me.

Now, I need to make my own peace with everything too. There may never be another man who makes me feel like Giorgio does. What we had was special—a lightning strike to the heart. But I can’t expect lightning to strike twice.

The backs of my eyes prickle as I turn to the next page—Matteo’s biography. I scan it, forgetting what I read as soon as I get to the next word. It doesn’t matter what’s written there.

“What do you think of him?” I ask my brother.

“By all accounts, he seems like a fair and reasonable man. I had Ras talk to just about everyone who’s ever dealt with him, and no one raised any red flags. There’s nothing in his past that suggests he would mistreat you. And if he ever did, I would cut off his balls and stuff them down his throat.”

I snap my gaze off the page. “Jesus.”

Dem shrugs. “It’s the truth. And you don’t need to decide right away. I know it’s a lot to think about.”

Vale’s words from yesterday come back to me. I could have a role to play in my brother’s empire if I’m brave enough to take it.

Is that what I want?

My brother isn’t a businessman, no matter how well he plays that role.

Dem is a criminal. And so was my father. And my mother. My grandparents. Most of my extended family as far back as anyone can remember.

On Ibiza, I thought I could be something else, but doing that would mean leaving Dem behind.

I don’t want to leave my brother. Whoever he is, he’s my only family, and I love him.

And if Dem’s taught me anything, it’s that love is sacrifice. He’s made many sacrifices for me without a single complaint. Without ever making me feel like a burden.

It’s my turn to do the same now.

I close the folder and put it down on his desk. Our eyes meet.

“I’ll marry Matteo.”