Her hand shoves me back, and I take a step back to allow her to escape.
“Rosa.” If she’s going to fuck with my name, then I’ll do the same.
“What?” The word is barely whispered, her foot already at the edge of the bushes, where there’s undoubtedly more video cameras.
“Don’t get killed before our wedding day, please. I’m enjoying fighting with you.”
“Get fucked.”
My lips twitch as I follow her out of the rose bushes and back toward the house, my hand slipping my knife in my pocket as I walk. Her father is waiting there, well before the end of the hour his brother gave, and it seems suspicious. There’s something strange about this family.
I feel as if I’m both saving her from them and condemning her at the same time, and it’s going to weigh on my mind.
“Did you enjoy your visit, Nico?” Don Accetta asks coolly. “You disappeared for a decent amount of time with my daughter.”
Rosa licks her lips coyly, and I decide to lean into this. I don’t approve of any of this, but a dead bride doesn’t do me a lick of good.
There’s not a trace of blood on her skin, as Rosa is meticulously careful about her details. It’s clear in how she walks and speaks. This is the armor of someone who knows that anything else could lead to being hurt or killed.
I’ve tried to listen to the chatter surrounding the Accetta family, but all I’ve been able to gather is that his daughter is the apple of his eye and his ruthlessness is unmatched. There arerumors he may have killed his previous wives, and Rosa as much as confirmed it earlier.
“We had a lovely time, sir. I think I’d like to move up the timeline for the wedding after seeing how beautiful your daughter is. Do you think we can marry the day after Rosa’s twenty-first birthday? I can’t remain away from home for very long, as there are things that need my attention. You know how it is,” I say smoothly with a smile I don’t mean.
“You wish to marry early?” Don Accetta frowns, his eyes moving up his daughter’s body. There’s nothing he could possibly find distasteful about her demeanor or clothing, so I don’t understand what he’s looking for.
It’s done in a calculating, non-sexual manner, but it still makes goosebumps raise over my skin.
I may not know this girl from Eve, but this house is fucking evil. I am beginning to doubt my previous thoughts that she was being dramatic. Throughout his perusal, Rosa remains still, waiting for him to finish. Her eyes are almost glazed over, as if she’s disassociating from this moment.
Goddamnit. Why me?
“I am a man of means, I can get a wedding together in my city in two weeks,” he muses. “Rosalia, just look at you. It seems your beauty and verbal prowess has landed you a husband. How lucky I am to have such a perfect daughter.”
Rosa’s fingers flinch at her side, and I only notice because they brush mine. Electricity slides up my veins, and I can’t breathe without wanting to take her hand. Fuck it.
Quando si è in ballo, bisogna ballare. My fingers thread through hers, protecting her from prying eyes. She’s silently breaking, and we’re in this together now. I need her for my own reasons, she will be mine, and I protect what belongs to me.
Even if I don’t fucking understand why. Ugh, my head hurts.
“Such a happy couple already,” the don murmurs. “Why don’t we have her wedding on her birthday? It’ll be a wonderful present for my daughter.”
Rosa blinks hard, and her hand squeezes mine in a rare show of vulnerability.
“I love that idea,” I lie. “I’ve always thought of myself as a gift.”
I mean for it to be a joke, and Rosa’s lips twitch slightly before she releases my hand.
“I’m honored,” she rasps. Whatever she did to her voice is beginning to bother her again, and I decide to end this dangerous conversation while I’m ahead.
“Thank you for your hospitality, sir. May I come by another time?”
“We’ll see. Absence may make the heart grow fonder. There is much to do before the wedding. It’s late, my daughter needs her beauty sleep,” he says, snapping his fingers for us to follow him inside.
The way he speaks about Rosa is beginning to freak me out. When we’ve spoken before, there was affection in his voice, even while he was making choices for her.
My father may have been a closet dirtbag, but this goes beyond that. I don’t know how to process Don Accetta’s current aloof attitude toward his daughter. What’s different now than before, and is the real version of my future father-in-law?
The things I’ve learned of late about my father are a firm reminder of the darkness that lives in men’s hearts. I need to be more alert and focused on what people show me when they let their guard down.
