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“Did you like that?”
“Of course not,” I snapped.
“I thought you were a good liar.”
My cheeks heated and I glared but didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure if my next lie would be any more convincing.
“It’s okay, Angel,” Remo said in a low voice. “There are worse things than enjoying pleasure.”
I wanted to lash out at him, but he wasn’t even the main reason for my anger. I was furious at myself, enraged by my body for its reactions.
“I’m Danilo’s,” I said firmly.
Remo narrowed his eyes. “Are you reminding me or yourself?”
“I’m promised to him. I want him, not you.”
“You can have an Underboss, someone who’s learned to do another man’s biding, or the Capo, a man who has men follow his command.”
“I can have a monster or a man.”
“Do you really think Danilo isn’t a monster?
“He isn’t a monster like you.”
Remo nodded. “He’s a lesser monster. Who’d want to settle for less?”
“You don’t even want me, Remo. All you want is to hold my fate over my family’s head. Stop toying around.”
He stepped back, turned around, and picked up his phone. “Look broken for a moment.”
I glared.
“That’s not the look we’re going for.” He waited. Then his jaw tightened, and he came toward me again, holding my chin. “I said it before, choose your battles wisely. I’m not a patient man nor a decent one.”
He retreated and finally satisfied with my expression, he took a few photos. Guilt left a bitter taste in my mouth, but I wasn’t sure how long it would take for my family to free me, if they succeeded at all, and I had to think of self-preservation even if I hated myself for it.
He unshackled me and I rubbed my wrists then touched my tender throat. Remo watched me. “I like seeing my mark on you.”
I didn’t say anything.
Later, I spent a long time staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Remo had left his marks like he’d said. They were red and purple, and made me feel a wave of shame because of how my body had reacted. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me.
A knock drew me out of my reverie. Dragging myself away from the mirror, I went into the bedroom, where I found the youngest Falcone. He looked somewhat lost in the middle of my room.
“I have a few books and ice cream for you. It’s one of the hottest days of the summer. I thought you could use cooling off,” he said, holding up four books and a bowl filled with ice cream.
His gaze moved to my throat, and his brows drew together. He walked past me and put everything down on my nightstand before he shoved his hands into his pockets, looking awkward. My eyes lingered on the fresh tattoo on his forearm.
“You are a Made Man now.”
He glanced down then nodded slowly. “I’m a Falcone.”
I went over to the nightstand to take a look at everything.
“It’s chocolate chip. It’s all we got. Savio’s got a sweet tooth. The rest of us not so much.”
“So you gave me Savio’s ice cream? He’ll love that after the soup I threw at him.”
Adamo burst out laughing. “I wish I could have been there. He’s so full of himself. I bet his expression was hilarious.” He sobered then cleared his throat.
I smiled. “He was shocked.”
It was difficult to believe that Adamo was related to Remo. There was a slight resemblance, but Adamo’s hair was curly and not as dark, and his eyes were a warmer brown. But the biggest difference was their personality. I picked up the bowl and pushed a spoonful of the sugary treat into my mouth before sinking down onto the bed.
Adamo came a bit closer and leaned against one of the posts. “I wasn’t sure what kind of books you like, so I brought a memoir, a thriller, a romance, and a fantasy book. We don’t have many new books. I don’t think I’m allowed to give you my kindle. You could use it for other stuff.”
I smiled. “It’s okay.” Despite my intention to hate on every Falcone, it was difficult not to like Adamo. “I think I’ll pass on the thriller, though. I’ve had plenty of thrill in my life recently.”
“I know,” Adamo said quietly. He indicated my throat. “What happened there?”
Heat shot into my cheeks, and I allowed myself another taste of the ice cream to gather my thoughts.
Adamo watched me closely. “Did he hurt you?”
I considered lying, making up a brutal story to drive a wedge between the brothers, but for some reason I couldn’t do it. “No. He’s hurting my family by making them believe he’s hurting me.”
Relief flashed across Adamo’s face, and for a second it annoyed me, but then I thought of Samuel and understood.
“You’ll be united with them soon,” he said.
