Page 30 of Playing the Sicilian's Game of Revenge

But he would not grow to depend on this feeling. He would not tolerate it. His joy, his happiness—that thing foolish people put so much stock in—would only come from things he could control.

Never the fickle nature of life.

Or so he told himself. Even as he found himself wandering down toward Saverina’s office a full fifteen minutes before her lunch break would begin. He convinced himself it was for the optics of it all. People would see him and gossip.

This was the goal.

Her office door was open when he approached. She stood with her back to the door, a phone cradled at her ear. She wore a silky shirt the color of sunrise and a skirt that skimmed the flare of her hips.

Something potent and raw slammed into his chest. Uncontrollable, but not as simple as lust. Lust was easy. But he knew now—having had her and knowing he wouldn’t at the moment—that this lust lingered. Twisted. Sank into his bones until it felt like nights without her were torture.

Too close to grief to bear. “The hurts linger until you deal with them.” She had said that to him, and those words, too, lingered in his head like a curse. Like she’d foisted hurts and dealing upon him when he knew exactly what he was about.

What he would do. What he wanted. But he wasn’t above altering his plans when just cause presented itself. When this was over, maybe he would let her break off the engagement. She did deserve what she wanted, after all, and he had no interest in love and families.

Yes. That would be the new plan. The plan that would be best. Not because he was kind. Not because there were hurts not dealt with. But because... Because. He didn’t need her. He did not need to force anyone to stay by his side.

He was Teo LaRosa, and he would never lower himself to such things. So he would let her go because her staying would not give him what he wanted.

Peace and fulfillment in the wake of his revenge.

He wouldn’t tell her that just yet, or maybe at all. He’d give her the illusion of it being her own decision later on. He would magnanimously agree. Let her go.

Be without her.

He scarcely realized his hands curled into fists.

When she turned, setting the phone down on the desk and lifting her gaze to see him there, her expression softened. He could not decide what it meant, but in a flash, her soft smile turned into that cool professionalism she wielded so well.

It felt like a punch to the gut. Like pain and hurt when it was just...business. The business of revenge and her finding out the truth. Which seemed like a better and better turn of events as days went on.

“I still have a few things to tie up before I can take my lunch break,” she said, looking down at her desk rather than at him. “Perhaps I could meet you at the restaurant?”

Except that question felt as if it was posed to someone else. As if he was floating above this exchange, existing in a strange cloud of pain and a realization trying to break free.

He refused the realization, refused the feelings. He was Teo LaRosa, and he was in control of everything, and everything would lead him to destroying Dante Marino.

Saverina Parisi was inconsequential. Always.

She took a few steps toward him before she stopped herself. She clutched her hands together. Her expression was cool, but he saw concern in her dark gaze. “Teo, are you all right?”

“Of course.” Of course. He was always all right. He had a goal and he would meet it. What would ever not be all right about that? Maybe his throat felt tight and his words were raspy, but he was excellent.

Everything hinged on this goal, and for the first time, an uncomfortable little flare of uncertainty tried to find purchase in his gut. Like this was not smart, to twist your entire life to accomplish one thing.

But he’d made a promise. To himself even more than his mother.

Dante would pay. If nothing else mattered besides that simple fact, he would not worry about after.

CHAPTER TWELVE

SAVERINA WAS GETTING too used to lunches with Teo. Time with Teo. That had been all fine and dandy when she’d thought this was real, but no amount of knowing he saw this as little more than a business deal could stop her heart from aching for more.

Case in point, the leap her heart had taken when she’d looked up and seen Teo there early. It was just impossible to get over someone when you shared so much time together, no matter how much you understood it could go nowhere.

Harder still when, the further they got into their plans of revenge, the less she could blame Teo for how he’d gone about things. It was so easy to see he had used his plans for revenge as a replacement for grief. That he had not considered her feelings, because he was so deeply in denial about his own.

She worried for him now—when he got his revenge, what would be on the other side of it? Would he simply find something else to focus on while his denial grew stronger, or would he finally have to experience all those feelings he was trying to stave off? Both options seemed a terrible thing to deal with alone, and he was so very alone without her.

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