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“Thanks for the advice. I don’t know why I thought you’d act halfway human on a night like this.”
“You mean the night Amo fucking Vitiello takes Greta away from us?”
“He’ll probably take her virginity too,” Matteo said with a hard smile.
I tightened my hold on the samurai sword and was about to push to my feet. But Fabiano kicked his heel down on the sword at an angle that broke the blade apart. Now, I held a short zig-zag sword in my hands. “I can still kill him with this, probably even create a messier and more painful result.”
“Messier than this fuck show?” Fabiano growled, looking like he wanted to stab me with the samurai sword. He looked even more murderous than Matteo, come to think of it. He grabbed my arm tightly and jerked me up. I let him because I was fucking tired and just wanted to nap. “Drop the sword,” he hissed, and I did even that.
He began patting me down and pulled green panties from my pockets. His eyebrows rose. For a moment, I considered asking him if he knew who those belonged to, but I’d already had enough fun tonight.
“If you fucked one of our women, I’ll really enjoy slicing you up,” Matteo said, who kept his distance from me, probably because he worried he’d actually choke me with his bare hands if he came close, though that move was more Luca’s style.
“The only fun I had tonight was this.” I motioned around myself. “But I’d be up for a post-kill fuck if you have someone in mind.”
“Nobody wants to fuck you in the state you are in,” Fabiano growled, dragging me toward the exit. Again, a stupid comment lay on the tip of my tongue. It wasn’t self-preservation that stopped me, though. Funnily enough, I didn’t want to talk like that about Rory, even if it was in jest.
“You can thank me later for getting rid of the police,” Matteo said as we passed him.
“Thanks. That’s what family is for. If you ever feel like causing a bloodbath in Las Vegas, ask me. I know the best spots.”
“You’d probably try to kill me in your manic bloodlust, so no thanks.”
I couldn’t promise it wouldn’t happen, so I didn’t say anything.
Fabiano pushed me toward a black limousine and shoved me onto the passenger seat. He got in behind the steering wheel and didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes before it burst out of him. “What the fuck is wrong with you? We all thought you’d grow out of this shit.”
I chuckled. “How do you grow out of being a killer?”
Fabiano slanted me a look. “If you’re always giving in like this, it’ll control you. As a Capo and a man with a loving family, you need to be in control of it.”
“That’s why I’ll never have my own family, because I don’t want to control it.”
“Don’t want to or can’t?”
I looked out of the window. Fuck if I knew.
“If you can’t, then you should stick to your words and stay a lone wolf.”
The next morning at breakfast, Nevio looked as if he’d had a rough night. I didn’t know details of what had transpired, only that Dad had to leave some time in the middle of the night to pick up Nevio, and he’d been in a foul mood when he’d returned.
Nevio’s dark expression probably wasn’t the result of a rough night, though. The upcoming bloody sheets show definitely had something to do with it too.
The Famiglia had established their tradition of showing the bloody sheets after a wedding night again recently, mainly to appease their conservative members. I had never witnessed a bloody sheet presentation before. Mom had always ensured we were somewhere else if one had transpired after a wedding we had attended, but in the Camorra, it rarely happened.
Today, I had decided to be present. I had to admit I was a bit curious about how these things were handled, and I wanted to see how Nevio handled it.
Eventually, Amo and Greta entered the room hand in hand, and a few women from the Famiglia presented the sheets. Embarrassment crawled up my neck when I saw the red on white. I was infinitely glad that the Camorra didn’t follow this tradition.
“It’s a barbaric tradition,” Mom said, her cheeks red and disgust twisting her lips.
“That’s the Famiglia for you,” Dad said.
I really wasn’t sure if Dad had reason to bash the Famiglia. The Camorra was barbaric in its own way, and I knew that many of the conservatives in our circle expected bloody sheets too, even if it wasn’t officially approved of by the Capo.
Suddenly, a knife with a burning napkin attached to it hurtled through the room and pierced the sheets, which caught fire immediately. A few seconds later, they were completely aflame, and the fire alarm was set off. Cold water splashed down on us and everyone around.
I sucked in a sharp breath, my pulse picking up. The sound of laughter turned my head to where Nevio, Alessio, and Massimo were obviously celebrating. Nevio’s eyes met mine, and he gave me a wink. This reminded me of yesterday, how he’d simply taken my panties. Had he thrown them away?
