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My heart roars in my chest.
This won’t end well.
Isabella places her hand over mine.
Tommaso’s eyes widen at Benny’s response.
Normal people tend to be scared with a gun in their face, but not Benny.
Tommaso’s finger lightly brushes the trigger, and my body tenses. The disrespect is killing my brother.
“Pull the trigger,” Benny says, working his jaw. “Shoot me. The consequences won’t be worth the few seconds you’ll feel like a tough guy.”
This is my cue to stop the madness.
If Tommaso pulls the trigger, Cristian will slaughter our entire family.
“Let me change my clothes,” I shout over the railing before darting down the stairway. “Then, we can go.”
My stomach sinks with dread at the thought of spending the day with Benny, but I’d much rather have my family breathing.
When I reach the main floor, I squeeze between the two men. Tommaso’s gun is to my back, and just as I’m about to plead with Benny to stop, he grabs my waist.
“What are—” I start but stop when he jerks me behind him, blocking me from Tommaso and the gun. He spreads out his arms like a wall protecting me.
“If your sister is ever in front of your gun, you fucking lower it,” Benny sneers at Tommaso. His voice becomes a tad softer when he says, “Neomi, you have five minutes. Let’s hope your brother is still alive when you finish.”
I gulp, and Benny stops my attempt at confiscating the gun from Tommaso.
“Tommaso,” I plead as I walk toward the stairs, “please put down the gun.”
“It’s best to listen to your sister,” Benny says. “If you don’t lower your gun in five seconds, I’ll shoot your goddamn head off. Do you want your mother and sisters to watch you die?”
I rush upstairs and am nearly breathless when I reach my bedroom. Isabella steps out of my walk-in closet with an armful of clothing. I grab the floral jumpsuit on top and hurriedly get dressed. She’s at the doorway with a sweater in one hand and boots in the other. I snatch them on my way out of the room.
A pent-up breath rushes from my lungs when I see Tommaso lowering the gun. He and Benny continue the stare-down game, but at least no one is threatening to kill the other.
The house is quiet now. The only sound is theticktockfrom the grandfather clock my father gifted my mother for their anniversary last year.
“That’s the only time you’ll hold a gun to me and live,” Benny warns Tommaso. “Consider you still breathing a wedding gift to your sister.”
I hold up my boots, interrupting their conversation. “Ready to go!”
We need to get the hell out of here.
Benny gives Tommaso one last glare. Tommaso tightens his face and charges out of the house.
I glance at Isabella standing at the top of the stairs. She sends me an uneasy thumbs-up. My mother’s face is tense as we near her.
Benny offers my mother a casual smile, like he just didn’t threaten to kill her son. “I won’t keep her out late, Concetta.”
I attempt to deliver the same casual smile, but there’s no hiding the anguish. My mother’s cheek is warm when I kiss it.
“You two be safe,” she says, refusing to look at Benny and squeezing my shoulder.
My mother understands the social graces of this world better than Tommaso and me. She knows when to voice an opinion and when to go with the flow. With Benny’s status, she’s aware it’s risky to make waves. But from how well I know my mother, choice words are definitely on the tip of her tongue for her future son-in-law.
She’ll be on the phone with my father as soon as we walk out the door. There are cameras in the foyer, so he’ll no doubt watch the footage of Benny and Tommaso’s altercation. Tommaso had better prepare for an ass-chewing. His little gun stunt could’ve gotten us all killed.
