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“It’s almost as if Nevio can sense when Battista is awake and always leaves before,” Carlotta said.
“That’s not possible,” I said as I walked into my room, where Battista had been sleeping the entire time. I got what Carlotta meant. So far Nevio’s interactions with Battista had been few and far between. They hadn’t built a connection yet, and after our conversation today, I knew Nevio preferred it that way. I knew that some fathers had a hard time building a bond with young kids, even if they’d watched them grow up from birth, but I wasn’t sure that was the case with Nevio or if something deeper and darker held him back.
I picked Battista up and pressed him to my chest. Funnily enough, I had absolutely no trouble building a connection with this little boy. Just like his father, he’d captured my heart.
Few things got my heart rate up, but Rory did, and fucking her with my knife… My heartbeat had set a new record.
I couldn’t stop grinning as I headed to fight training. I was already late because I’d been up all night, but I couldn’t care less. I really needed to get myself off. Just thinking of Rory’s pink pussy and my knife made me hard again.
When I walked into the abandoned casino that the Camorra used as their gym, I could already hear the sounds of fists making impact and the low grunts of suppressed pain.
Stepping into the vast hall with the fighting cage in the center, I spotted Alessio and Nino sparring in it.
Massimo, Giulio, Fabiano, and Davide were watching and warming up by skipping rope. Of course, Massimo immediately noticed the cut in my hand. I hadn’t bothered bandaging it yet. He stopped skipping, dumped the rope on a bench, and came over to me. “What did you do?”
The way he worded it made it sound as if I had been up to no good, which was, of course, the truth.
“Just some innocent knife play,” I said.
Massimo gave me a look that suggested I was full of crap. “Show me.”
“My knife play?”
He held out his hand with a no-nonsense expression, and I turned my hand over so he could see my palm. He prodded it without mercy, but the pain gave me nice flashbacks to what had happened, so I didn’t protest. It confirmed I hadn’t dreamed this.
He dropped my hand and stalked over to the cabinet with the first-aid kit. By now, the situation had attracted more attention, and Davide and Giulio came running. “What happened?” Davide asked excitedly. “You weren’t in bed this morning when I tried to wake you for fight training.”
I’d been outside, roaming the city, restless but at the same time strangely fulfilled.
“I got into a knife fight and had to defend myself.”
“By holding his knife the wrong way? I doubt it,” Massimo muttered. “This isn’t a cut from defending yourself against a stab.”
“Huh?” Davide and Giulio exchanged a look. By now, Fabiano had joined us too. Only Nino and Alessio were still fighting.
Of course, Massimo had to keep spewing his extensive medical knowledge. “He gripped a blade, and the cut suggests it was a sawtooth knife like his. Seems too big a coincidence.”
I sent Massimo a look that told him to shut the fuck up. While I had no problem with him knowing the details of my adventure, I definitely didn’t need Fabiano to find out. Things would get very, very tense between the Scuderis and the Falcones if he knew what I was up to with his daughter. Fuck, he might even try to put a stop to it, and Aurora would probably even follow his decision.
I didn’t need the additional complication of having to figure out how to get rid of Fabi.
Fabiano raised one eyebrow. “What the fuck did you do now?”
I grinned. “I can’t tell you with the kids around. Let’s just say that a bit of pain makes me shoot fireworks much faster.”
Let them think I needed to cut my own palm to get myself off.
Fabiano sighed and shook his head before he returned to skipping rope, obviously tired of my antics.
Davide and Giulio followed him after a moment. They’d seen Massimo stitch me up before, so it wasn’t that exciting.
“If Fabiano finds out you’re messing with Aurora, things will get very complicated,” Massimo said in a low voice as he pulled out a bottle with clear liquid from the first-aid kit.
“Didn’t you listen? I was involved in a fight.”
“I listen to your bullshit all the time,” he said, dumping half of the liquid over my hand. It burned like hell, and I gritted my teeth in annoyance. There were plenty of disinfectants that didn’t sting, but Dad insisted we use the old-fashioned ones as additional punishment for getting injured in the first place. “My knife was clean, no need to disinfect the wound.”
“I smell pussy on you, so cut the bullshit and let me do my job,” Massimo said.
