Page 7 of Playing the Sicilian's Game of Revenge

He’d thought to himself that she would be his bride, one way or another, so why wait any longer? Why not propose right now? Insist upon it after last night? Surely she’d fling herself headfirst into it the same way she’d flung into his anger—turning it into something else entirely. Renewal.

But she sat there now and said nothing. Gave away nothing. Frustration and anger started to mix with some other emotion he refused to acknowledge. Was this just another thing that would go wrong? Another wrench in his climb for revenge?

He wouldn’t allow it.

“It is a yes-or-no question, bedda,” he said, and was quite happy with how smooth his voice came out sounding. Instead of as rough and frustrated as he felt.

She looked up from the ring, eyes cool but oddly bright like there might be tears in them. And something too close to fear for comfort. “It wasn’t a question at all, Teo,” she said in that crisp way of hers—a tone she usually only used at work. “It was a statement.”

He smiled in spite of himself. Perhaps all his plans weren’t ash after all. Perhaps Saverina with her cool command and insistence on being asked could be the shining star that saved it all. Before he had met her, he’d been so sure she would be weak-willed and naive, and only now, with so many of his plans within reach, did he realize that wouldn’t do at all.

He needed her strength. Her poise. Even that little flash of temper he saw sometimes. She would be able to handle all that came with aplomb. Because she was perfect.

And so was his plan.

“Ah, my little principessa does not like a statement. Scusa.”

She got all prim-looking then, chin in the air, looking down her nose at him.

“So regal,” he murmured, getting up off his knees because he’d be damned if he was going to grovel. He moved onto the bed next to her, ring still outstretched. He let the hand closest to her slide down her shoulder, over her elbow and to her hand, which he took in his while he worked to make sure he sounded...whatever way a man was supposed to sound when he did something as foolish as propose.

Gentle and besotted or some such. He lifted her hand to his mouth, pressed a kiss to her palm. “Will you marry me, Saverina?” he asked, infusing as much warmth into the question as he could manage.

She sucked in a breath, and for a moment, her expression went open, vulnerable. If he looked too deep, he saw a longing that had a twist of guilt vising his lungs. Which wouldn’t do.

Thankfully, she blinked it away quickly, and then her lips slowly began to curve. She cleared her throat before she spoke. “Now, that’s a question I think I can answer.” She looked down at the box. The ring was flashy, expensive, and he’d thought it suited her personality the moment he’d seen it. She was not a shy woman, not afraid of demanding the attention of an entire room.

All those flashes of vulnerability and fear were figments of his imagination. Or his guilt. This was her. She would say yes, and he, in return, would ensure she had the best. He would treat her well. It did not need to be love or real to work. To be fair enough.

She smiled at him, all bright and far too...hopeful to land in him well. “Yes,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. “I’ll marry you, Teo.”

That vise on his lungs was back, but he ignored it. He was an expert at ignoring those unwanted, unwieldy feelings. Maybe it was dangerous to have them around Saverina, but he knew what he was about. He knew his goal.

So he pulled her forward, pressed his mouth to hers. And refused to sink into the soft promise of her. Because he had work to do. He pulled away. “We really shouldn’t be late to work. Particularly both of us.”

She glanced over at the clock, then waved it away. “I’ve got about ten minutes left to bask.” She held the ring up and let it sparkle in the light of the room. She settled in against him, like casual intimacy would be a part of their future, when he had no plans for that to be the case.

He should stop this.

He did not get up.

“We haven’t even told my family or anyone we’re dating,” she said with half a laugh. “How am I going to explain this?”

“We don’t have to tell them about the engagement straightaway.” He had a timetable for when they needed to announce it by, but last night had given him more time on that score.

See? Not a mistake, not a failure, not even a misstep. His revenge would not be thwarted, because he had promised to enact it. Nothing would stop him. Not even a few setbacks. They would end up, always, working in his favor. One way or another.

Saverina laughed again, leaning her head against his shoulder, still admiring her ring. “I kind of love the idea of springing it on them with no warning, but Lorenzo and Brianna are away, and I’ll want to get as many of them home as I can to tell them in person. So we’ll keep it under wraps for now.” She moved the ring from one finger to another so that it no longer denoted engagement. She stared at it for a moment, then looked up at him.

Teo had to swallow against the ocean of hope he saw there in her dark eyes.

“Are you sure about this? That this is what you want? Forever?” she whispered, tears sparkling. So unguarded he felt as though she’d cut him off at the knees. “I’m going to have to insist on forever if we’re getting married.”

He was not a good man, he reminded himself. Guilt and being cleaved in half did not matter if he got the necessary end result. The revenge he’d promised. The revenge Dante Marino deserved.

“Of course, I am sure.”

He would have everything he wanted. Guilt be damned.

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