Page 29 of Bitter Poetry
“You’re wrong,” she says, surprising me with the vehemency lacing her tone. She blinks the tears away. Her chin juts a little, and defiance flashes in her eyes. “You didn’t only take.”
A smile curls my lips. “I do have something else for you that doesn’t involve removing your clothes. Something I brought with me, on a whim.”
I pull the necklace out of my pocket—a simple heart-shaped pink diamond pendant. I’ve looked at it countless times, both before and after I was told she was marrying someone else.
I hold it in front of her eyes where she can see.
She gasps, her eyes flashing to mine, confused, hopeful, and confused again.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
“Dante?” She catches my hands when I go to put it around her neck.
“You’re wearing it.”
“What if he asks?” the words come out in a whisper and wary returns to her eyes.
I feel fucking feral that she would deny me. “This is not open to negotiation. Lie for me. Tell him your father gave it to you, or your mother did. Tell him you bought it for yourself. I don’t fucking care. This goes on, and it stays on, understood?” I’m being a dick, and I couldn’t give a fuck. I want something of mine against her skin all day, every day. “It will be our little secret.”
Uncertainty replaces the wariness, but she releases my wrists and lifts her hair, tuning in the small gap I’ve left between us, so I can put it on.
When she turns back, I feel something primal take root as I see the pretty pink diamond nestled in the hollow of her throat.
Mine.
I don’t know how the fuck it’s going to happen, but somehow it will.
“I need to leave.”
She nods, although there’s a fresh glisten in her eyes. She looks too fucking young and vulnerable, and it’s destroying me, but I have to be smart about this, or we will both fucking die.
So I do the first sensible thing I’ve done since she knocked on the door; I check my cell phone, finding a message waiting from one of Ettore’s lackeys telling me our boss is busy and will reschedule for tomorrow… which is a relief. I’m definitely not up for a conversation with him right now.
“Take care, Carmela. I will see you as soon as I can.”
I steal one last kiss, then I open the door and step out, closing it quietly behind me.
My eyes narrow on my brother. “What the fuck are you doing out here?”
“What do you think?” he says cheerfully, pushing away from the wall opposite the door. “Watching your back, asshole. You’re fucking gone for her and not thinking straight. Anyone could have walked past. A thank you would be nice.”
“Thank you,” I concede.
I start walking toward the front door, and Christian falls in step beside me.
“Well, alright then. You know her sister is a nosy brat and is in the kitchen right down the hall. I swear she knows more shit than I do. Keeping a lid on this won’t be easy. Also, the kid fucking loathes Ettore and isn’t shy about announcing it whenever he’s not around.”
I smile. “Yes, I’m aware Jessica is a free thinker.”
“Even if she heard anything, she won’t tell Ettore… So, how did she taste?”
I do a double-take before a chuckle bubbles up. “You deduced I went down on her, how?”
He holds his hand up and begins ticking off his fingers. “No repetitive banging. No sounds from you at all. Then she screamed like you just exorcised her soul.”
I shake my head, although I can’t find it in me to give a fuck that he heard. “Did you get off on listening?”
We reach the front door and come to a collective stop.
