You are capable, Milano.
You are capable, Milano.
You are capable, Milano.
“Milan.” Her voice was stern, like Adriano’s was when he was worried. “Stop doing that with your hands.”
I looked down. My hands were wringing again, scratching at my knuckles. I halted in place and said, “You do not behave when you are required to.”
“Behave?” Sicily made a sound that resembled a cough, but she appeared to be stunned. “I don’t know what era you think this is, but I donotneed you to set rules for how I act.”
“The rules are not mine; they belong to society.”
“Fuck society!”
“Stop saying that word!”
Sicily stepped beside me to lean over the metal balcony with her head hung low. A few strands of her hair had come loose from the tight fixture throughout the day and were coiling around her head in the wind.I felt the strong urge to keep looking at her, so I did, and when I looked closer, I noted that her skin had prickled. She was shivering. It was late, and the wind had picked up, so it was unsurprising that she was cold. I untucked my arms from my jacket, draping the long material over her shoulders instead.
Her face scowled like Adriano did when he had accused me of eating the last of his ice cream.
I had done that. He had exhibited signs of anger, so I had bought him some more.
I did not know how to rectify this situation because I had thought giving her my jacket to prevent further chillswasthe solution.
Humans were so complex. It made my chest hurt.
“How can you be such an ass and, like, every girl’s dream at the same time?”
I did not understand her question.“I have not committed acts to be deemed those titles.”
“Forcing me to marry you is pretty ass title-worthy.”
I leaned my forearms against the banister beside her. “I required a wife. It is not uncommon in theFamigliato require a wife. In fact, it is the social norm.”
The wind carried her scent toward me. It was sweet and also rich, but no longer unpleasant. When she was quiet and limiting her crude vocabulary, Sicily appeared more symmetrical than she had at the altar. I found it easier to hold her eye contact like this.
“I didn’t want to marry you.” Her swallow was rough, painful even. “What kind of a marriage will we have?”
“You will have your own wing in my estate. If your presence is not required at social events, you are free to partake in hobbies. I will also allow you to seek sexual gratification elsewhere, but you must be discreet.”
Sicily stepped backward once, and then twice. “Is that ajoke?”
I frowned. “No.”
“Why do you look so confused?”
Typically, I would be disturbed by this emotional outburst, but I noted that this one did not make me want to exit.
“Why do you speak like that, with no emotion at all?” Her scoff was illogical; she could not disagree because I had merelytold the truth. “God, I bet you were a fucking nightmare to grow up with. Is that why your brothers hate you?”
“That is a wise assumption to make.” I nodded. “My father did label me a nightmare too, so I can conclude that your bet is accurate; however, my brothers do not reject my presence because of my upbringing—that is false.”
Her lips remained parted as she looked over every part of my face. “What?”
I narrowed my eyes. It was uncomfortable. “Do you require?—”
“Yes, repetition. Why did your father call you a nightmare?”
