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21
Michael
And I had obeyed her. Fuck me, but she had asked me to leave—not very politely either—and I had turned on my heel, skulked out of there, and left her in her studio. Me, the Capo with enough kills under my belt to warrant most people in Sicily warning their children at night that if they don’t go to sleep, I’ll kidnap them… Yeah, that’s the kind of myth that accompanies my reputation… And I had simply acquiesced and left her to work. Maybe it’s because she had seemed so happy to find herself surrounded by things that bring her pleasure. Maybe I had seen the sheer joy in her eyes in finding a space where she can work to her heart’s content?
She had been taken aback, but also, there had been relief in her eyes. Has she missed her art that much? I raise the glass of whiskey to my lips and take a sip as I stare out of the double doors of the living room, which are flung open to face the sea. The evening sun slants its rays, lighting up the waves. The colors of the impending sunset bleed across the skies. Reds, pinks, golden hues… As pretty as her eyes. As gorgeous as her lips. No… She’s more beautiful than nature’s treasures.Che cavolo… Now I am waxing poetic about her while watching a sunset? Next, I’ll be writing odes in her honor.
I left her room a few hours ago, and haven’t seen her since. Cassandra had informed me that she had taken lunch up to Beauty’s room and that she had eaten it all, as evidenced by the empty tray that had been deposited outside the door. Which is progress. At least, she is eating and happily ensconced in her studio. Which is more than I can say for myself. I glare at the fast-sinking sun on the horizon. Damn it, why is it that my thoughts are still on her?
A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts, and I confess, it is with relief that I turn to find Christian walking in. I nod to my brother, then turn to the woman at his heels.
"Doc," I jerk my chin, "he’s briefed you on what I need?"
She draws herself up to her full height, "I have been told what you’d like me to do, but I must record my complete disagreement with what you have proposed."
"I wasn’t asking for your opinion."
"I am giving it to you anyway," she firms her lips. "As a health care provider, as a professional, and as a woman, I must protest in the harshest of terms."
"Noted." I tilt my head, "If there’s nothing else then—"
"I have something to say as well." Christian folds his arms across his chest. "You know I would never interfere with your personal relationships. I respect you too much for that,fratellone..."
"But?"
"But," he shuffles his feet, "I have to say that this is taking things too far."
"You think so?"
He nods, "I definitely do. Why not just speak to her first? Why not tell her what you have in mind?"
"And if she refuses—and you know she will—what then?"
"Then," he rubs the back of his neck, "then maybe you find another way to reach your goal without having to hurt her along the way."
"If this is what is needed to keep her safe, then I am not sorry."
"What if you are afterward? What if she hates you so much that your relationship with her breaks down completely?"
"It’s not like the relationship between us is all that healthy right now."
"But at least, there is some semblance of one, isn’t there?"
"Is there?" I rake my gaze over his features, "I’ll take the risk, if it means I can keep her safe."
"I take it that’s the most important thing for you, her safety?" the doctor murmurs and I turn to her.
"What did you say your name was again?"
"Aurora." She tightens her fingers around the sleek briefcase-like bag that she holds, "Doctor Aurora Garibaldi. My father is unwell, so I am here in his stead."
"I assume you are reliable?"
"My father wouldn’t have sent me if I weren’t."
I arch an eyebrow, "You do realize who you are talking to?"
"To the Capo of the Cosa Nostra," she says in a tone that is respectful, while her gaze is anything but.
