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“You know, Rory, I don’t like to get involved, but I have one piece of advice for you that you should consider. Get Nevio out of your fucking head. The faster, the better. On his good days Nevio is a psychotic asshole, on his bad days he’d make your worst nightmares look like a piece of cake.”
I tried to end the dance, but Alessio held me in an iron grip. “I wonder what he’d say to one of his best friends talking like that about him.”
“He’d agree with me. Nevio knows what he is, and he has no intention of becoming a better version of himself, trust me.”
“Thanks for your advice, but I’m not a little kid.”
“Where’s Isabella?” Alessio asked suddenly.
“Why?”
“None of your business.”
“Then I don’t know.”
Alessio glared down at me, but then Valerio took over, and our conversation ended abruptly. Soon after, I didn’t see Alessio anymore. I hoped he knew what he was doing. I doubted Isabella wanted to talk to him. I managed to slip away from the festivities and began roaming the corridors of the hotel. The entire place had been rented for the occasion, so the only people I met were other wedding guests or employees of the hotel. I didn’t see Alessio or Isabella anywhere, but eventually, I spotted Nevio on the floor, smoking. He looked as if he was ready to tear down the place. Maybe Alessio was right. Maybe it was best for me to stay away from Nevio. But this wasn’t about my crush. This was about a friend helping another, and Nevio looked as if he definitely needed help today.
I didn’t bother reminding him of the no-smoking policy of the place. He knew.
His body tensed briefly, then he slanted me a hard look, but at least he relaxed.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
He’d removed his tie and speared it with his knife and impaled it into the hardwood floor. His jacket had been tossed to the floor beside him. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his muscled arms and the Camorra tattoo.
“I came here to stop myself from starting a bloody wedding. Although, that would have been an improvement.”
I stopped beside him, unsure if I should sit down or stay where I was. Did Nevio even want me around? “Greta looks happy.”
Nevio took the cigarette from his mouth and moved it to his forearm. He hissed when the glowing tip touched his skin.
I dropped to my knees. “Don’t!” I reached for the cigarette and gasped when my fingertip touched the still hot tip. I jerked away. Nevio extinguished the cigarette then grabbed my hand and inspected my fingertip, which started blistering. I sank my teeth into my lower lip from the burning sensation.
He shoved to his feet and pulled me up as well. After he’d picked up his knife and stuffed it into a holster at his belt, he took my hand again and led me away. I wasn’t sure where he was taking me. “There’s an ice dispenser,” I pressed out as we passed a room with one.
“Too cold. The water should only be slightly colder than room temperature.”
We arrived at the spa, and Nevio turned on the faucet in the women’s changing room. As soon as the cold water hit my finger, I felt a moment of relief, but then the burning returned.
“What about you?” I asked, nodding toward the blister on his forearm. It must hurt worse than my wound, considering he’d touched the cigarette far longer to the spot.
“I think this is only the third time I’ve seen you in a dress,” Nevio mused. I had opted for a teal-colored, long V-neck dress. It showed a little cleavage but was still modest. Dad wouldn’t have let me wear it otherwise. I shrugged. “It’s a wedding. Even I don’t wear overalls at weddings.”
Nevio released my hand. “It’ll still hurt for a few days. Next time, don’t get between me and a cigarette.”
“You shouldn’t hurt yourself.”
Nevio gave me a challenging smile. “Why not? I thought I could have some fun at this wedding.”
“Burning yourself is your version of fun?”
His smile became darker, and my belly dropped in the most unexpected way, my body flooding with heat. Why was a glimpse at Nevio’s sinister side having such an effect on me?
“I have different versions of fun, Rory. None of them are feasible at this wedding. My father made himself very clear about that.”
“Can’t you just have fun like other people?” I asked, cringing at how Goody Two-shoes I sounded. Nevio’s answering eyebrow-arch confirmed it. He motioned for me to follow him through a white door saying “pool.”
He held it open for me, his eyes on me the entire time as I swished past him in my dress, and even as I found myself in the massive indoor swimming pool area of the hotel, I could still feel his gaze resting on my back. The look in his eyes wasn’t one I’d seen before, and I couldn’t decipher what it meant.
