Page 19 of His to Honor

Giulia stews on that for a minute or two. I can sense the annoyance rolling off her. “And Olivia gets off lightly, as usual.”

It’s not a great sign that she’s using my sister’s full name. “Livvy’s being punished.”

“How is spending time in this beautiful place a punishment?”

“Well, she’s not allowed unsupervised access to her phone or the internet. She can’t go out without a guard. She isn’t receiving her usual allowance, and she has to work to earn her keep.”

Giulia casts a skeptical glare in my direction. I know it doesn’t sound as if my sister is being punished, but she’s not having a good time over here.

“Oh, really? How is she earning her keep? Is she scrubbing floors, polishing silverware? Please tell me she’s cleaning the toilets.”

“I don’t know. Damiano has her in his office doing…” Shit, I have no idea what he’s got her working on. “Stuff.”

“Stuff?” Giulia’s lips thin. “Let me get this straight. She fucks with our best friend’s marriage and her punishment is running errands?”

I shrug and then try to lighten the tone. “I guess that’s what passes for hard labor for our women.”

Giulia glowers at me. She glances down and examines her nails, which, I notice for the first time, are a bit ragged, like she’s been doing a lot of manual work lately. I heard she was setting up some sort of community center and that she’d been hands on with the remodeling. It makes me feel like a complete asshole for my comment about what the women in our world consider work.

She clenches her fists. Then she abruptly unfastens her seatbelt, gets out of the car, and storms toward the house. I catch up with her just as she reaches the door. Grabbing her elbow, I swing her toward me, not caring that several of Damiano’s men are watching us from their cars.

“Giulia, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to kick the shit out of your fucking spoiled brat of a sister.”

I should chastise her for threatening Livvy, but I don’t think Giulia will actually hurt her. She might be fired up, but she has a right to be after what I told her. What I can’t let slide, however, isthe cursing. It just sounds wrong coming from her. “Watch your mouth.”

“Or what?” Giulia raises herself up on her tiptoes, getting right in my face.

“Or I’ll spank your insolent ass.”

She smiles at me, a forced grin that lacks warmth. “Not before I’ve shown your sister what a real punishment is.”

Giulia tugs her arm out of my grip and marches into the house. This behavior is so unlike her. Although she has a temper, she’s slow to anger, but today she’s seemed different. She’s on edge, spoiling for a fight. I doubt she even knows why.

I follow her into the house, intending to intervene if she does lash out at my sister. She charges along the corridor and comes to an abrupt halt as Livvy appears in view. Usually my sister looks like she’s ready to strut along a runway at some fashion show, but today she’s disheveled. She’s wearing skinny jeans and a white t-shirt. Her face is streaked with tears that have washed away some of her signature makeup. Her hair is a mess. It’s not like Livvy at all.

Giulia casts a querying glance at me. Her anger seems to have been replaced by concern. She rushes up to Livvy and pulls her into a hug. Immediately, my sister collapses in her arms, sobbing.

“I don’t know what to do,” Livvy says through anguished wails.

“Come with me.” Giulia puts an arm around her shoulder. She gives me a warning look and I step aside to let them go into the living room together.

“What is that all about?” I ask Damiano, as Giulia closes the door behind her.

Damiano blows out a breath. “Let’s get a drink.”

That’s not reassuring. I follow him into the office and sit on one of the leather armchairs at the window while he pours himself a Scotch and me some vodka. He passes me a glass and sits on the other armchair.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be out,” he says.

What am I, some sort of shut-in? I guess I was turning into a bit of a recluse, but it’s not as if I haven’t left the house.

“Giulia wanted to go to the city.” I take a sip of my drink and shudder at the harsh burn. “Did you piss off a meter maid?”

“What?”

“I got a ticket on your Bugatti.”

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