AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Where are you going with this, Don Salvestro?” I growl.
“Ahh, Michael,” he chuckles. “You know me all too well. I am merely asking if you care for her. If you don’t, well…”
I frown. “What?”
“There are other interested parties.”
Something snaps in me. I clench my hands into fists. Fury and anger boil up deep inside. An emotion I’ve long forgotten about swells and rears its head. A green, swirling emotion.
“Who,” I snarl. The anger in my voice takes me by surprise.
Salvestro chuckles quietly. “So, perhaps you do care?”
“Who,” I snap again.
“Bernardo is, how do you say…” Salvestro sighs. “Irrequieto.”
My jaw tightens. My eyes are hard. “Restless,” I growl under my breath. “Restless how.”
“With his current wife.” Salvestro sighs deeply. “You know how my cousin is, Micheal. He bores so easily with his playthings. Always on the lookout for a new…” he chuckles. “A new toy.”
“And what does this have to do with me?”
Salvestro chuckles. “You? Nothing. Nothing at all. But it does concern her.”
Fury throbs in my very veins. “You mean Katrina.”
“Si, Micheal. Bernardo…” he laughs. “Well, he does love redheads, you know. He’s been made aware of your… reluctance to this deal.” Sal makes a tut-tutting sound. Perhaps another way to settle this matter with the Korolyovs is simply another man to take their gift…”
I’ve rarely felt the feelings of rage and fury I feel at this moment. I want to roar. I want to smash something irreplaceable. Hell, I want to smash Bernardo. Maybe even Sal too. I seethe, my jaw grinding painfully. My free hand grips the edge of my desk so tight that marks appear.
“I sense anger, Micheal,” Sal says quietly.
I say nothing.
“Perhaps you should go take what is yours, before other parties do.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying claim your woman, Micheal,” he says. The smiling little old Italian grandpa routine is gone. Now, there’s a very serious edge to his voice. “Your wedding is tomorrow, by the way.”
“Excuse me?”
“Tomorrow, Micheal. Or Bernardo will take your gift as his own.”
“Sal—”
“This is not a discussion,” he snaps. “Katrina Korolyov will become your wifedomani. Tomorrow, Micheal. This is not a request. This is an order.Capisci?”
I close my eyes. I’m shaking with rage as I slowly nod. “Si, capico. I understand, Don Salvestro.”
“Grazie, Micheal.” His voice is back to his normal smiling, charming old grandpa tone. “And congratulations on your wedding.”
The line goes dead. I’m shaking. I’m fuming, actually. But it’s the reason for the fury that truly shakes me. I’m not mad that Sal is giving me an order. I understand that’s how this entire organization works.
It’s the snarling jealousy that has me shaking though. It’s possessive, and all-consuming. The idea of anyone, least of all Bernardo fucking Scaliami, putting their hands on Katrina? It makes me blind with rage. It makes me see red.
I stand. I stagger across the office to the door and whip it open. My mind is set. My convictions are firm. This might be wrong. But I’ve moved past caring now. This isn’t about following orders. This is about wanting what I shouldn’t.
