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“Scusi.” I inch my way toward him so he doesn't feel threatened. “Hungry?” I pat my stomach, then point at him while smiling.
His head bobs up and down, and he rubs his stomach, his face scrunched up in pain.
“I'll buy you something.” I point at myself, then inside the café. If Christian can afford thousands of euros worth of clothes, he can afford an extra sandwich. I'm glad he gave me his card so I could do the purchasing while he looked on. It's sort of nice that he trusts me, too.
I don't know what the gentleman outside wants to eat, so I settle on a simple ham and cheese on crustless white bread. It's ready in less than a minute and quickly wrapped up. As an afterthought, I ask for something cold to drink, as well, and settle on a bottle of Coke. Some brands are universal.
“Here you go.” I can't believe how good it makes me feel to hand the man the sandwich and soda once I’m outside. He looks so happy, so grateful, repeating the word gratzie again and again. I wish I had enough Italian to ask if he needs anything else. It seems a shame to spend all this money on myself when I don't need very much.
When he reaches out and hugs me, I hug him back—gingerly, but I don't want to be rude by refusing, either. “Prego,” I murmur with a smile as he lets me go.
“What the fuck?” A blur flashes past me an instant before Christian slams the man against the wall. He drops the Coke, and it shatters on the ground. “What the fuck do you think you're doing?”
“Wait—” That's all I have time to say before Christian takes him by the shoulders and slams him against the wall again, this time hard enough that I hear a sickening crack when his head strikes the stuccoed brick. The man's eyes roll back, his body twitching once, twice, before sliding down the wall and landing in a heap.
“Oh, my God!” I back away, bumping up against the wall behind me. “Why did you do that? He was thanking me for buying him food. Why did you kill him?”
He turns to me, breathing heavy, his eyes flashing. There he is. The real Christian, the one he hid from me all along. A simple shopping trip isn't enough to erase the truth or take me back in time to when I only thought things were good for us.
They'll never be good for us. He's crazy and dangerous and violent.
And I have no idea what else he's capable of.
10
CHRISTIAN
“Why are you constantly testing me, topolina?” I stalk toward her, my teeth clenched.
She peers up at me, wide-eyed, her features soaked in fear. Siân is screaming at me, but her words fall on deaf ears. All that matters is the jealous rage coursing through me. She pounds on my chest, yelling over and over, sweat and tears running down her face.
“You’re fucking insane,” she huffs out, her words finally registering. She attempts to step around me, but I keep her in place. “Stop it, Christian. Let me go.”
There she is with those words again.
Let her go.
It angers me, her constant need to get away from me. Her insistent desire not to heed my words. Her actions come with consequences.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I ask when she tries once more to yank herself from my hold.
“Away from you. You’re sick. Why did you kill him?” Her voice cracks as she glances down at his lifeless body slumped awkwardly against the yellow brick of the café.
“No one fucking touches you.”
“He was being nice.”
I tug her toward me, spinning her so that she has no choice but to look me in the eye. “Do you think I give a fuck about how nice he is? No one touches what’s mine.”
She blinks in disbelief. “I’m not a property for you to claim.”
“Too fucking late for that,” I seethe.
She pushes against my chest, working overtime to pry herself from my grip. “You’re hurting me,” she whines while twisting and turning to free her wrist.
My grip is tight, so much so I feel my nails digging into her skin, and I should care that I’m hurting her, but I don’t. Once my buttons have been pushed, there is no turning back. And with everything that is going on right now, she can’t be this fucking reckless.
Being nice. I huff at her words ringing out in my mind again.
All it would take is for whoever is out here killing the crime families to take her naïvety for weakness. Nothing is as it seems in this world, and I won’t apologize for protecting her at all costs.
“And you’re being foolish.”
She gasps, resentment for me written in the frown lines forming above her brow.
