Page 43 of Playing the Sicilian's Game of Revenge

Well, he did not want that. Avoiding her, however, had not worked. She’d only come back stronger, if last night was any indication of what his withdrawal would do. So he would attempt a different approach.

He would follow along with this little day she had planned, and there would be no I love you’s. He would act like it had never been said, as if nothing had changed.

Because nothing would ever change. If she pressed the issue, he would make it clear it was her issue, not his. If she let things go as they were...well, hadn’t that been his plan all along?

He would enjoy it until his revenge was set. And then, if she didn’t, he would end things. But first, revenge.

Always and only revenge.

She returned with a little stack of clothes and came over to hand them to him. He took them, against all the declarations in his mind to do otherwise. He frowned at the men’s clothes.

“Are these your brother’s clothes?”

Saverina shrugged. “He’s the only man I live with. Aside from Gio. But I’m not sure a five-year-old’s clothes would fit you. Come on, now. I’d like to do this before breakfast.”

“What is this?” he asked, but he got out of bed and dressed while she disappeared into her en suite bathroom.

“A surprise,” she said firmly. She reappeared in black jeans and a pale pink sweater, her hair swept up in a band. She slid her bare feet into shoes and was out the door in under five minutes.

“I have never seen you get ready remotely that quickly.”

“I doubt very much we’ll be seen,” she replied, leading him out of the house and toward a large garage. She opened one of the doors with a button on her key and then led him to a very, very small if flashy sedan.

He looked at the car dubiously. “I’m not sure such things were built for men of my size, bedda.”

“You can push the seat all the way back. It’s a short drive anyhow.”

She got into the driver’s side, and Teo could not fathom the last time some person who wasn’t a hired driver or himself had driven him around. It felt completely abnormal getting into the passenger side. Pretzeling himself into the seat that was indeed too small even with the seat pushed back.

Almost as if she was putting him off-kilter on purpose. Well, she was going to find that he did not fall apart quite so easily. Today would be proof. To her. To himself. No amount of weak moments, no amount of pressure in his chest, no amount of her beautiful smiles would change his end game.

He was in charge. Not these feelings she was trying to pull out of him. He’d never let them win.

They drove, as she’d promised, only a short while. Not even venturing into the city limits. She turned into the gates of a cemetery. Everything inside of him turned to ice. His mother was buried here.

“Saverina.” But she took a turn—away from where his mother’s grave was. Drove to the opposite side of the cemetery and parked. She got out without a word. He knew better than to follow her.

He did it anyway, as though she’d created some magnetic force he couldn’t escape.

She walked unerringly down a narrow path and straight up to a well-kept gravestone, shining white in the sun. A delicate angel statue stood atop it.

He read the name engraved on the stone: Rocca Parisi. He thought at first it was her mother, but the dates were surely wrong as they made this woman only thirteen or fourteen years older than Saverina.

“My sister,” she explained, as if sensing his confusion. “Lorenzo did not want her buried with our parents, when they failed her so completely.” She knelt next to the stone, wiped at some dirt that had accumulated, pulled at some grass that grew too tall at its base.

Teo could not find words as he stood awkwardly on the path. She had mentioned sisters before, but he did not recall the name Rocca. Of course, she had what seemed like a hundred siblings, so aside from Lorenzo and the other brother he’d met who worked at Parisi in Rome, Teo could not keep them straight. But he knew she had never once mentioned a sister who’d passed away, even when she’d mentioned her parents’ deaths often.

“She and Lorenzo were the oldest. Twins. I idolized them both, but Rocca was first. I guess because she was a girl too. My other two sisters are so...sweet. So soft and gentle. Rocca was...fearless. Bold. I wanted to be like her when I was very young, but then...”

Saverina sighed, brushing her fingers across the engraved name. A tear slid down her cheek. “My father never could keep a job, so eventually that fell to my mother. She got into prostitution. When she was pregnant with me, my father forced Rocca to take my mother’s role.”

Teo had considered himself quite aware of the depravity of humanity, but this shocked him to his core. He knew she’d grown up poor, but the wealth of her brother in the present hid just how much they’d really struggled with.

“Years later, she died by suicide,” Saverina continued. “I was twelve when it happened. Lorenzo had begun to build Parisi. He had all these plans to help her, to save her, but he couldn’t save her from the pain that made it impossible for her to go on.”

“Why do you tell me all this?” Teo asked, his voice rough. His heart, the heart he was trying not to admit existed, ached. An ache so deep, so painful, it reminded him of losing his mother all over again. It was...too horrible. And if he allowed himself to look back on some of the things he’d said to her about her pampered lifestyle, he might actually feel guilt over it.

Saverina took a deep breath. She left her hand on her sister’s name and looked up at him. Tears in her eyes, on her cheeks.

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