Cleo snarls. “Good. I don’t want to marry any of the losers who work for you.”
Papà lunges toward Cleo, and I put myself between them. “Papà, Cleo doesn’t mean it! She’s shaken up from last night. I was there. I saw how drunk Ludovico was. Cleo didn’t provoke him.”
Cleo sucks in a breath like she’s about to say something else, even though anyone in their right mind would know to stay quiet.
He’s never hit her. She doesn’t know what he’s capable of.
I speak before she gets a chance to make things even worse. “Papà, let her go lie down. She watched Rafaele kill somebody. She was right there. It was horrible.”
Papà’s nostrils flare, but he seems to consider my words.
Somehow, Cleo manages to keep her mouth shut for the few seconds it takes him to give a slight nod. “Fine. Get out of my sight.”
My sister flies out of the room, and Papà’s gaze slams down on me.
I do my best to keep my voice steady. “Rafaele didn’t have to kill him. He pulled that knife out of nowhere and plunged it into Ludovico’s eye. You can’t blame Cleo for Rafaele’s short fuse.”
Although it was strange. Rafaele doesn’t strike me as someone to act on impulse. Did he have a history with Ludovico?
Or was it seeing Cleo getting hurt that made him snap?
He’s always been a little off around her, hasn’t he?
Papà shakes his head, the tension loosening from the cords in his neck. “I didn’t expect that from Rafaele.”
“Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think you do.” The words are out of my mouth before I realize they sound like an accusation.
Papà’s eyes narrow. “I know everything I need to know to be confident he’ll make a good don. Don’t start with me on that again, Gemma. The matter is settled. The Garzolos will be in good hands. You know I always do my best to take care of our family.”
I clench my fists, feeling a wave of anger wash over me. The way he lies is outrageous, because he somehow believes the lies. He really thinks he’s doing what a good don would do.
I’m good at keeping my mouth shut around Papà, but after last night, my nerves are fried. The words are right there on the tip of my tongue.
Fuck you.
I got one night with Ras. One measly night with a man I have real feelings for. And now I have to face a lifetime with Rafaele, a man I do not love, all the while knowing that I’m in this position because my father and my brother care more about themselves than anyone else.
“Are you confident Rafaele will make a good don?” I ask. “Or are you just happy you won’t have to pay for your mistakes? Last night, Rafaele told me how Vince helped you craft this entire plan. The two of you must be very pleased with yourselves.”
Surprise flashes inside Papà’s eyes before he tampers it down. He places a fist on the desk and gives me a condescending look. “Rafaele has a strange moral compass. His insistence on telling you the full details about our arrangement drove me up the fucking wall. I told him it would only make you upset. But he’s apparently fine with that, and also fine with committing murder in front of his future wife.”
My nostrils flare on an intake of breath. “You know what? I don’t mind. At least with him, I know exactly what I’m getting myself into. What I do mind is how you and Vince shamelessly manipulated me. Why didn’t you just tell me everything from the start? If you’d come and asked me to do this for you and Vince, if you’d showed me some respect and explained the situation, I probably would have done it anyway. I would have volunteered myself for a lifetime of unhappiness if you’d just been honest with me. But I know why you weren’t.”
Papà flexes his jaw. “Watch your tone. You don’t know anything.”
I take a step back, my internal alarm ringing, but I have to get this off my chest. I just don’t have the strength to hold it back anymore. “You weren’t honest with me because you’re a selfish coward. You’re terrified of ending up behind bars, aren’t you, Papà? That must be embarrassing to admit, given many better men in our family have served their time. But not you. All you care about is taking good care of yourself. You’re a disgraceful don. I’m starting to think you’re right. Our family will be in good hands with Rafaele. After all, he can’t possibly be any worse than you.”
My only warning is the low growl Papà makes.
Pain bursts over my cheek, sharp and deeper than I’ve ever felt before.
The impact sends me to the floor.
“You think you know better than me?” my father grinds out.
I catch myself at the last second with my hands, and my left wrist screams in pain. A weak sob escapes me.
“You think I made this decision lightly?”
Before I get a chance to catch my breath, a hit comes to my side. A kick. I squeeze my eyes shut.
“You dare to blatantly disrespect me after everything I’ve done for you?”
Another kick against my ribs. I moan in pain, shrinking into myself, clutching my knees to my chest.
And then I hear something that makes the hairs on my neck stand.
A roar.
The books on the shelves shake. There’s a loud crash. A big tome falls a few feet away from me.
I’m trembling, and the pain in my side is spreading and spreading. The shirt I’m wearing sticks to my back with cold sweat. My stomach clenches, and I throw up. There’s nothing in my stomach but the coffee I drank this morning.
A few moments later, someone’s hauling me up. I recognize who it is by his scent.
“Ras?”
Familiar hands cradle my face. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice shaking with fury.
I blink at him. “There’s something wrong with my side.”
I get a single glimpse of his murderous expression before he carefully tucks me behind him and moves toward Papà.
My father’s slumped against the bookshelf, a trickle of blood running down his chin. His furious gaze is locked on Ras.
“Get out,” Papà says with a sneer. “Get the fuck out before I—”
Ras lunges at him, slams him into the bookcase, and wraps his fingers around his throat.
“You fucking decrepit piece of shit,” he spits out, the veins on his forearms growing more prominent as he squeezes and squeezes. Papà’s face turns beet red beneath his grip.
“I knew it was you.” Ras’s voice is clear and deadly and ricochets off the walls. “You’ve done this to her before.”
Papà’s eyes bulge. Ras is going to kill him.
I should try to break them up, but I’m frozen as I watch everything play out.
He punched me and kicked me while I was on the ground.
The halting words on the tip of my tongue dry out, but Ras stops short of choking him. Just as Papà starts sputtering, Ras lets go off his throat and lands a hard punch on his face.
Papà’s nose explodes with blood.
That visual gets my throat unstuck. “Ras, stop.” I reach out, grab his arm, and pull him back. “No, stop. Don’t.”
His rage is infernal. He throws Papà to the ground. “She’s your fucking daughter. You get off on beating women? Does it make you feel tough? You’re a sad joke, you goddamn asshole.”