Page 43 of Cruel Lust

“Enough.” It’s rare for Papa to get sharp with his eldest son, the golden child, and watching Dante’s face fall is gratifying. “Remember, at the end of the day, we are all we have. It’s bad enough that somebody got in the way. We don’t need to push each other farther away and make her job easier. Got it?”

“I’m telling you, it’s not like that now.” I wish I could get it through his head. Both of them. Why can’t they take my word for it?

Papa looks skeptical, putting it mildly. “And what makes you think that? Have the two of you discussed this?”

“We didn’t exactly get the chance.”

He cups the back of my neck with his hand. A gesture as familiar to me as the sound of his voice. It used to comfort me. “I’ll give her one bit of credit. I told her you ratted her out to us, thinking she’d turn on you and show her true colors. She didn’t.”

The idea that he’s fucked with her head makes my blood boil, but my pride in Emilia cools me off. “See?” I ask, vindicated. Or so I think.

His grip tightens until I grind my teeth. “How do you know she doesn’t intend to march into that station just as soon as she gets up her strength and tell her boss and anybody else who’ll listen all about our operation?”

“For one thing, she knows nothing about it. I haven’t told her shit, and that’s the truth. I haven’t completely gone off the deep end,” I add, glaring at my brother.

“It’s only a matter of time,” he insists. “It’s obvious she’s already broken you down. All she had to do next was start asking the right questions.”

She wouldn’t have done that. But how do you know?

I hate that question.

I hate the fact that the idea is in my head at all.

I hate that I don’t remember exactly when I became so sure of her.

Maybe it was when she could’ve taken me out with her service pistol but didn’t. Something changed back there at the cabin. I know I’ll never be able to make them understand simply by explaining it, especially since I can’t explain it to myself.

“Papa.” It’s a last-ditch effort, and I’m not exactly proud of myself, but I’m starting to understand there are people worth losing your pride over. “Please. Isn’t it enough that I’m telling you I believe in her? Can you trust my judgment?”

“No, I can’t. That’s the sad part.” My father shakes his head and looks more disappointed than I remember seeing him in a long time. “This might as well be Frankie all over again, son.”

“This is nothing like that. I’m telling you,” I defend and, what the hell? I might as well spell it out for him. “I care about her.”

“Do you honestly think she feels the same way about you?” Dante snorts before looking to our father for backup, but Papa remains ominously quiet.

“I don’t know,” I admit, which is not exactly easy. “But I want to find out. At least give me that chance.”

Dante throws his hands into the air. “And what if she doesn’t? What then? What’s that going to change?”

That’s the thing. I can’t bring myself to imagine a world in which Emilia doesn’t care about me. I’m sure it’s possible, but something inside won’t let me entertain the thought. “I’ll handle it.”

“How would you do that?” Papa demands. “Because if what you’ve done so far is your idea of handling things, it would appear we have very different definitions.”

“Trust me.” I look at both of them, and there’s never been a point in my life when I’ve been so completely at their mercy, not even for my own sake, but for hers. For the first time, there’s someone who matters to me more than my blood. More than myself.

Dante clears his throat, barely bothering to conceal a gleeful smirk. “We better get moving,” he tells Papa. “We have that meeting.”

“Oh, yes…” He pauses, drawing out the suspense. “A meeting with the Vitali representatives.”

“Are you serious?” The idea sets off every red flag imaginable in my head. “You can’t go to something like that without me. At least tell me you’re taking Cesco with you.” Francesco is, without a doubt, the family’s most ruthless and devoted soldier. There aren’t many people I trust more.

“It’s all remote,” Dante explains with a sigh. “No way are we going into the same room with any of those assholes. But thank you so much for your advice.”

“We’re trying to come to a peaceful resolution,” Papa explains before I can tell my brother to get fucked. “At the end of the day, I’ve always been against getting into a war with Vitali. You kids today, you’ve never seen what a real war can do. It’s all numbers, abstract bullshit. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I’ve lost friends. It’s too expensive and messy.”

And you’ve taken us closer to it than we were before. He doesn’t have to say it out loud. I hear it. I feel it. And I know he’s right.

Would I change anything if I had the chance? No. That’s what makes me sure what I feel for Emilia is real. I wouldn’t change a thing.

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