* * *

I followed her inside the house.

Emma set the box of pastries on the counter. “Sal, I bought a good selection for us. Eat whatever you want.”

Sal looked pointedly at me and I could see the warning there. He was beginning to grate on my nerves. Had he forgotten who he worked for?

“She stays on the estate,” I told him. “If she leaves, it’s with me.”

“That is ridiculous.” She finished washing her hands and began drying them on a cloth. “We already discussed this. You can’t turn me into a prisoner here.”

“Get upstairs.” I pointed to the doorway. “I want to talk to you.”

Emma carefully folded the cloth and placed it on the marble countertop. “I think we’re done talking, Giacomo.”

“You’re right. So would you like me to say in front of Sal why I really want you upstairs? Or would you rather continue the pretense that we are going up there to talk?”

Her mouth fell open as her skin turned crimson. “Neither. I want you to leave.”

“Then you will be disappointed.” I pointed to the archway that led inside the house. “Go—or I’ll carry you, if I have to.”

“I choose pretense, then,” she mumbled and started walking.

“Va bene, bambina. That is the right answer.”

We didn’t speak as we climbed the stairs. It was so quiet in the house that I heard the whir of the ceiling fan overhead. I was reminded of kneeling as a boy, the hours of terrified silence while awaiting my father’s punishments.

Malocchio.

I shoved those memories aside. The old man was rotting in the ground, his precious legacy in the hands of his most hated child. I would have the last laugh.

I followed her through the door to my father’s garish bedroom. “How can you stand sleeping in here?” I asked, looking around at the gold decor. “It’s hideous.”

She put her phone and wallet onto the bedside table. “It’s sort of growing on me. Why didn’t you or your brother move in here after your father went into hiding?”

I snorted. “Nino always believed our father would return. And I’d rather cut off my dick than sleep in this end of the house.”

“Why? Do you really like that tiny room better than these?”

I didn’t want to talk about my family or my father. “Strip and get on the bed.”

“What?” She paled, her eyes darting around dramatically. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am very serious. Take off your clothes and lie down.”

“But . . . it’s still light out! And Sal will know what we’re doing. It’s too weird. And besides, we already did this last night.”

I held up a hand to stop the stream of words falling out of her mouth. “I don’t give a fuck about Sal or the time of day. And you should be prepared for me to lick your pussy every day for the next two months.”

“Every day? No way.”

“Every day that you aren’t bleeding. And even some of those.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose under her glasses. “This is insane.”

“I don’t have time to waste convincing you.” I folded my arms across my chest. “We already know you love it. Stop pretending.”

“I’m not pretending. And that’s not the point. You’re catching me off guard. I’m not even turned on.”