Page 16 of Sins of the Son

Stupid, pitiful, arrogant pride.

Like the entitled asshole she has often accused me of being, I got my back up that a village girl would snub a Cavalieri. God, what a fucking prick I was back then. I walked away from her. Then I did my best to avoid her over the years.

Avoided but didn't forget.

My brother's marriage had gotten me thinking.

It was past time I settled down, and no other woman would do.

No other woman remotely compared to Milana.

Her beauty. Her intelligence. Her fiery spirit. Even her incredible capacity for colorful cursing.

Milana wasn't a woman you fucked once and moved on from.

She was the type of woman you built a life with.

She was the type of woman you wanted to bear your children.

She was the type of strong, intelligent woman who would carry on the Cavalieri legacy while proudly standing by my side.

In Milana's eyes, I had a well-earned reputation for fucking and leaving women. Between that and whatever I'd done back in school to anger her so badly, it was no wonder she wanted nothing to do with me. The problem was, I wanted everything to do with her.

Milana was going to be my wife, whether or not she liked it.

I wasn't the type of man who took no for an answer.

I sighed as I swirled the red wine in my glass, watching the ruby liquid climb the sides and slowly drip back down. “I promise you I don’t, but the past is the past. It was seven years ago, baby. We were teenagers then. You need to move on.”

Something flickered behind her eyes.

Was it pain? Anger? Betrayal?

Fuck. Obviously, that was the wrong approach.

She turned her head to the side, avoiding my gaze. Her voice had a hard, clipped edge to it. “You got what you wanted. You can leave now.”

I stared at the ceiling and counted to ten as I breathed deeply. This woman would try the patience of a fucking saint. When I reached twenty, I tried again. “Have a sip of wine first.”

She turned back to face me and snatched the glass from my hand. She then tipped it back, draining it. “There.” She thrust the empty glass at me. “Now leave.”

I shook my head. “You really have no respect for wine.”

She leaned forward. Her blanket slipped to tease me with a glimpse of the top curves of her breasts. “And you have no respect for—” She clamped her mouth shut and clutched the blanket to her. Leaned back so forcefully, the headboard slammed against the wall. “Never mind. Just get out.”

I wrapped my hand around her neck and pulled her close, forcing her to meet my gaze. “This isn’t over. We’ll talk more in the morning. Get some sleep.” I kissed her forehead.

I rose and walked toward the bedroom door. As my hand reached for the light switch, her next words stopped me.

“I won’t change my mind, Cesare.”

I looked over my shoulder at her slight form tucked under the covers in the center of the bed. She looked so small and fragile in that moment.

Refusing to take the bait, I flicked the light switch off and closed the door behind me.

* * *

After refastening my jeans, I returned to the living room and cleaned up the shattered wine bottle. Tomorrow, I would send some workmen to paint over the stain and repair the bedroom door. Moving on to the bathroom, I cleaned up the remnants of the perfume bottle. I didn’t want her to wake in the middle of the night and step on the broken glass.

---