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"You can make amends," she insists.
"This... The lifestyle of theCosa Nostrais not something that you can shake off overnight.”
"So, it’ll take time; that’s okay. You can work through it.Wecan work through it."
"I… I can’t." I rub the back of my neck. "This isn’t me, Angel. This… putting on a suit and going to an office and sitting in a conference room to discuss quarterly revenue numbers is not the life I saw for myself."
"I didn’t see someone like you for myself, either. I never thought I’d be fake-married to a Mafioso and in a relationship that twists my insides in knots every time I see him, but here we are." Her chest heaves. "Also, what you just described doesn’t sound much different from what you’re already doing. You wear a suit now and sit in a closed room talking business with your brothers. How’s the picture you described any different?”
"Because it is." I dig my fingers in my hair and tug.
"I call bullshit on this," she snaps.
I stare. "Did you just use a four-letter word?’
"It’s an eight-letter word, and I’m done being polite, especially when the most colorful insults don’t do justice to describing your pig-headedness."
"And now you compare me to a filthy beast?" I can’t stop my lips from quirking. I can’t help it. She’s so cute when she’s all fired up, with her golden eyes spitting sparks, her thick curly hair flowing around her like Medusa’s snakes. My first impression of her had been right. She enticed me, and now she’s going to turn me to stone; then she’s going to shatter me, and every piece of my body will sing one name. Hers.
Cazzo!I am completely losing it. I need to find a way to walk away from her. For her safety. For my sanity.
I lower my hand to my side, then jerk my chin toward the almost full tub. "You need to get in."
"And you need to get your head out of your ass."
"My, didn’t realize you were hiding such a gutter mouth, Angel."
"And I didn’t know you were hiding behind the excuse of theCosa Nostra."
"What do you mean?"
"You covered the marks on your back put there by your abusive father with the symbol of the very land he comes from. Clearly, you’re trying to make up for what he did by trying to do better, while staying in the same life that he introduced you to."
"My allegiance to theCosa Nostrahas nothing to do with my father," I growl.
"Doesn't it?" She narrows her gaze. "Isn't that why you have a chip on your shoulder about Michael being the Don? Isn't that why you wanted to be the Don? So you could control theCosa Nostra, and hence, control your future. The very future that your father screwed up by being abusive toward you."
Anger thrums at my temples. My guts twist. I squeeze my fingers into fists at my sides. "You have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, please! I don't have to be a shrink to read the signs loud and clear." She leans forward on the balls of her feet. "You hate your father. Technically, you should hate the lifestyle he introduced you to. Instead, you're panicking at the thought of walking away from theCosa Nostralifestyle. You embraced his way of life, hoping to undo the wrongs he did to you and to your brothers—indeed, to the entire community. You may pretend to be a hot-headed, out-of-controlCapo. But really, you’re an altruist."
Sweat drips down my chest. My head spins. It must be the heat which has built to sauna-like proportions in this space. Yes, that's the only reason I’m feeling lightheaded. It's nothing to do with this little spitfire who's seen through me in a few days, when my own brothers haven't understood my motivations—hell, when I haven't understood my impulses—most of my life. "You're confusing me with someone else."
She sets her jaw. "No, I am not. I see you, Luca. You’re worried about losing the control you have. You’re frightened that, without the power that comes with beingCapo, you’ll be nothing. You’re scared, Luca, scared."
A hot burst of anger flares in my chest. My blood pounds through my veins. The pulse thuds at my temples, and I bend my knees, then glare into her face.
"You’re calling me a coward?" I snap.
"Yes."
"You think you can say that to my face and get away with it?"
"Maybe not, but at least I tried. Which is more than I can say of you. You’re willing to let go of what we have. Willing to shove aside what you feel for me—"
I scowl.
"Yeah, yeah, I know you want to deny it, but I saw how you burst into that waiting room in the hospital. I saw how pale you were when you saw the blood on my shirt, then the relief when you found out it wasn’t mine. I saw how your arms shook when you carried me from the car. You’re still not over having discovered you have feelings for me, and given a chance, you’ll spend your life denying it."
