Page 72 of Loving Lucia

“And you fucked her while she was swinging in there with her ass still striped from a solid belting,” Victor says, every bit as calm as Saint is heated. “You’re not innocent in this, Santino. As much as you’d like to tell yourself you were the perfect gentleman, we all know that simply isn’t the case.”

“We’re still better than Pavone!” Saint says.

I let out an ugly laugh. “Are we?”

Saint twists around to look at me. “We are! We—we value her. I—”

“If you’re going to say you love her, shut up right now,” I tell him. “What would you know about love, anyway? You’ve been blindly drooling over Victor your entire life. You’d still put him above Lucia.”

“I— I wouldn’t—” Saint sputters, staring at me. “Youshut up, Angel. You think I don’t know anything about love, but what aboutyou? At least I care about people!”

“Yeah? Like who? You don’t have a family to give a fuck about, the only close friendships you have are with me and Victor. And you and I fuck, so am I supposed to assume you’re in love with me, too?”

I’m going too far. I know I’m going too far, but I’m so fucking mad about everything and it feels good to hurt somebody.

I’m pretty sure the three of us didn’t fight before Lucia, not like this. Maybe I just didn’t care as much.

“Of course I’m not in love with you!” Saint says, getting up from the couch so he can more easily lock gazes with me. “Even if I was, I wouldn’t be anymore! Not after all of this!”

Suddenly Victor starts laughing, drawing our attention to him. He gives us both a slow clap.

“Wonderful. It seems Lucia did Pavone’s job for him. I need to send her a congratulations card. ‘Good job on destroying the Rosa di Sangue. Enjoy the wedding night.’”

“Lucia didn’t do this!” Saint argues. “Lucia didn’t do any of this! It’s just you two!”

“You want to talk about destroying the Rosa di Sangue…” I growl, pacing over to Victor. “I was thinking. Who gained the most when my brother was assassinated? And sure, we could say Bellini. But you know who else gained tremendously?”

Victor gives me an exasperated look. “I did. But it took you seven years to work that out? How many hints did Pavone have to drop for you?”

“So you admit it?” I ask, staring him in the eyes. “You manipulated that situation, just like you manipulated everything else? Would my brother still be alive if it wasn’t for your fucking ambition?”

Victor stands up and calmly holds my gaze. “I admit only that it benefitted me, in the long run. I didn’t plan for Nico’s death. There are very few men whom I respect, and Nico was one of them. Whether you choose to believe that sentiment or not is up to you.” He snorts. “Pavone certainly hopes you believe his version of events.”

“And why shouldn’t I? You lie as easily as you breathe,” I hiss at him. My fury over the entire situation boils over, and I take a swing at Victor—only to have my arm caught by Saint. If Saint’s going to protect Victor over this, then he’s my enemy too.

I lash out with my other arm, catching Saint by surprise. My fist lands against his jaw and he stumbles away from me. No longer restricted, I throw another punch at Victor.

Surprisingly, Victor doesn’t dodge away. He takes the hit to his gut, his expression scrunching up in pain. Disappointingly, he doesn’t make any noise beyond a small grunt.

“Pavone is a fucking snake who would do anything to drive us all apart!” Saint says from behind me. “Come on, do you really think Victor set Nico up like that? He may have gained more when Nico died, but he didn’t need to. He was still in a good spot!”

“Yeah, but was it enough for Victor?” I mutter. His words take a little of the wind out of my sails, but not enough to calm me down.

“You didn’t see Victor after Nico died, Angel,” Saint says.

I half-turn to glare at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Quiet, Santino,” Victor snaps, still clutching his gut. “Angelo can believe whatever he likes.”

I expect Saint to obey Victor’s command, but he sets his jaw stubbornly. “Victor cried, okay? And what’s the point in faking that, if it was just the two of us? I liked Nico well enough, but I wasn’t close to him.Ididn’t shed any tears.”

I stare at Victor. “Is that true? Did you cry?”

Victor braces himself on the armchair to steady himself. “Which answer do you prefer?”

“I just want the fucking truth, Victor. Did you care about Nico at all, or was he just a fucking convenient stepping stone to you getting your own underworld empire?” I raise a fist at him. “I’m willing to hit you some more, if it’ll help.”

Victor lets out a long sigh before sitting down on the armchair again. “Fine. As embarrassing as it is, yes. I called Nico a friend, Angelo. Despite what you think of me, I do have emotions. I was not happy to see Nico die.” He closes his eyes and leans back. “I was, in fact, content to be consigliere. I thought we might expand the Rosa di Sangue a few years down the line, and I could take over operations in another city. But Bellini ruined those particular plans.”

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