Page 34 of Brutal Crown
His lips hover so close to mine, I feel his breath on my skin.
Francesco’s face crashes into my mind again like a wave I can’t stop. All I can think about ishimkissing me, touching me.
I jerk back.
“I can’t,” I repeat, more forcefully now.
Marco steps back, jaw flexing. He looks like he has more to say, but he bites it down and nods slowly.
“I understand,” he says, too calmly. But his eyes are anything but calm.
When he walks out, I finally manage to catch my breath.
I don’t see Marco for the rest of the day. I don’t know how to feel about that, so I don’t think about it.
Later in the evening, I’m carrying a bottle of red wine down to Dante’s office. They drink expensive wine like it’s water over here. The Romanos have always dealt in fine wine, and they are fortified, dating back centuries.
I knock once. I don’t get an answer, so I gently ease the door open. I was asked to drop it off for him in case he’s in his study.
As I step into the room, I hear muffled voices from an inner room. It sounds like two people are speaking.
I stop moving. I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t.
But I press closer, just out of sight.
“…Adriano’s betrayal…”
I halt in my steps, recognizing the voice as Dante’s.
Who is he talking to? And why are they talking about my father? I inch closer to the door on the left of the room where the voices are coming from.
“…she’s been seen with Marco again,” the other voice is saying. “I see them almost every day. You think that’s a coincidence? It’s reckless.”
A dark feeling envelopes my chest. Olga.
Her voice is much louder than Dante’s. I grit my teeth, but I remain standing, trying to hear the rest of the conversation.
“She’s under control,” Dante replies. “For now.”
I don’t hear everything he’s saying, but I capture a few words.
“She’s a liability. Just like her father.”
There’s a pause. Then the sound of glass clinking.
“She doesn’t even know what he was hiding,” Olga continues, voice sharper now. “Adriano was preparing to expose everything. The offshore accounts. The wire transfers. The Romano archives we keep buried beneath that damn cellar.”
My lungs go still.
“She was his daughter,” Olga muses. “She may know more than she realizes.”
Dante’s voice drops to something darker—deadlier.
“If she steps out of line, they’ll be the ones to do something about it, and we all might suffer.”
My heart lodges in my throat.
“She’s already being watched,” Olga adds. “But if she keeps frolicking with Marco, it’ll get harder to justify keeping her alive.”
