Page 4 of The Last Vendetta

I refused to turn my head. Acknowledging him would give him too much satisfaction, but with every footfall that heralded his coming closer to me in the shadows, I felt a dizzying mixture of loathing and giddiness building up inside me.

I had no reason to be excited about Renzo seeking me out. We were enemies at best. Mere acquaintances otherwise.

But there he was, leaning his forearms on the railing, mirroring my stance.

“Hiding?” he asked, his teasing tone full of amusement just to mock me.

I narrowed my eyes at the stars above, determined not to let him see how he got to me. “I was.”

2

RENZO

Renzo

“And why would you need to hide from the fun?” I wouldn’t turn and face Giulia if she was determined to resist making eye contact with me. I’d wait until she caved first. Women always did. They couldn’t hold up to any kind of pressure.

“You call that fun?” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder as she straightened from the railing she’d been leaning her arms on. Although she only gave me her profile, I wasn’t out of luck for a treat. Giulia Acardi, my sworn enemy, was a beautiful woman no matter how she stood, her slender curves, her long, raven hair, and those rich, dark eyes. I tried my best to avoid looking at her for too long, and only when she wouldn’t notice. It felt a lot like staring into the sun.

I snorted a laugh, no longer bored since I had her company out here away from all the others. Ten minutes ago, my answer would’ve been simple. Fuck no. My brother’s wedding was a bore, and this reception barely held my interest. I was a fan of parties. Living the easy life was more my style, but this grand ball after the ceremony was anything but fun.

Like usual, it felt like politics. Like every single person in there was the same old, operating under the same old dramatic motivations and always playing the field.

They weren’t in there genuinely celebrating my brother marrying Cecilia Romano. I doubted any of them actually gave a fuck at all. All those Mafia lords and leaders were doing business as usual.

I sure as hell didn’t care. I was here because I had to be, and it wasn’t until that feisty, flirty server suggested I “accompany her on her break” that I woke up at the prospect of a quickie in the courtyard.

“Not really,” I admitted. It wouldn’t kill me to agree with her. That reception wasn’t fun—not for me. “I’m just glad it wasn’t me getting married today.”

Luka could have all the responsibilities of giving our father a son to carry on the Bernardi name. Not me. I was spared from having to live up to any important expectations, and that was just the way I liked it.

“I bet that would crimp your style.”

I smiled, still holding out to face her. She’d cave. Giulia Acardi couldn’t last against me.

“And what’s my ‘style’?”

She splayed her hand out, gesturing to where that lusty server almost got my pants unzipped. “Screwing around. Chasing an easy lay.”

I shrugged. “Not like I couldn’t do that while I’m married too.”

Her sigh was a long and heavy one. “True.”

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those hopeless romantics who actually believe in monogamy.”

“And don’t tell me you’re one of those idiotic players who actually think they can make all the women in the world come.”

“I wouldn’t want to make them all come.”

She turned, propping her elbow on the railing to narrow her gaze at me. “Of course not. Why should a spoiled, useless man like you care about pleasing a woman?”

I pivoted, smiling easily at her haughty expression. She was just as high-maintenance as the other mistresses, wives, and daughters were inside the hall, but she still stood out, gorgeous from within with that flare of a challenge that always burned in her brown eyes.

“Do you doubt that I can make a woman happy?” I stepped closer, taunted by her carefully schooled expression. She wouldn’t cower. She wouldn’t retreat.

Giulia was off-limits. But knowing that didn’t stop me from getting into her space and looking down at her.

I had no interest in the number of women I could fuck. It was becoming all the same thing, over and over again.

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