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I lift her hand and kiss her fingertips.
“Why do you let everyone believe that you murdered your ex-fiancée the night before your wedding?”
“I cannot believe it’s taken you a whole twenty minutes to ask me that question.”
“So, stop avoiding it, then,” she says with a sigh.
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”
“Maybe, but you’re still avoiding my question.”
“People believe what they want to believe, Kat. Besides, I don’t care what other people think about me. The Santangelos crossed so many lines, they had to be dealt with. It doesn’t matter to me whether people think that Nicole was taken care of too. In fact, it’s good for business.”
“Of course. It kind of feeds into the image you’ve created for yourself too, right? Cold-hearted Mafia boss who would murder his own fiancée if she crossed him.”
I don’t answer. My jaw is clenched tight, and a thick vein pulses in my throat. Legitimate reasons, sure, but neither of them are the real reason I keep Nicci’s secret.
* * *
Kat isasleep by the time we get home. I lift her out of the car and cradle her to my chest.
“I can walk,” she murmurs.
“I know, but I can carry you just as easily,” I tell her with a kiss on her forehead.
By the time I’ve carried her to our room, she’s awake again, and I set her on her feet.
“Does Joey know about Nicci?” she asks me.
“Lorenzo told her this summer.”
“Oh,” she says as she starts to undress.
“She said she had an idea anyway, but we didn’t tell her at the time. She was only sixteen.”
“I’m glad she knows you would never do that.”
“What?” I scowl at her. “You think Joey cares if I killed Nicci? I could have slit her throat in front of Joey, and it wouldn’t change a damn thing about the fact I am her brother.”
She frowns at me. “I didn’t mean… I just meant… I’m glad I know that you would never do that.”
I wrap my hand around her throat before she can utter another word. “But I would do it, Kat,” I remind her. “In a heartbeat if I had to.”
“D-Dante.” She blinks, confused.
“I am not a good man, Kat. I never have been and I never will be. You need to stop trying to convince yourself that I am.”
Tears well in her eyes, and I release my grip and stalk to the other side of the room, pulling off my shirt and tossing it into the hamper.
“So why did you take me there today.” She follows me across the room. “Why did you do that if you don’t want me to see the good in you?”
I spin around to face her. She sees too much of me. Expects too much of me. “I promised you no secrets. That was a secret.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t believe you. You wanted to show me what kind of a man you really are.”
“I wanted you to know the truth.”
“And I do, but what I don’t get is why you’re so goddamn afraid of it,” she shouts at me, standing on her tiptoes and pushing her face close to mine.
