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A man could only hope.
Silently.
Secretly.
Chapter 4
Valerio
“So, what do you think she looks like?” Priscilla asked while applying some glitter to her shoulders. She was doing her make-up in my room because clearly, I was better company than her grumpy husband.
“I don’t know,” I answered from my place on the couch and took a sip from my martini.
Since Salvatore didn’t have the heart to leave his wife and kids, he allowed us to make the trip. Only me, Antonio and Priscilla. They left their kids back at home with Antonio’s parents. Priscilla said they needed a little holiday away from them, but I knew the truth was different. Antonio didn’t trust Borelli enough to bring his children here. He probably wouldn’t take Priscilla, too, but she wanted to see L.A., and Antonio was incapable of saying no to his wife.
I didn’t mind. She was fun. We even came one day earlier than the event upon her request because she wanted to go out.
I was happy with our plan. Going out alone was not the most fun thing, and I knew Antonio wouldn’t accompany me without Priscilla.
Her presence was good, apart from the fact that she was a desperate romantic.
She gasped at my answer and turned to me from the mirror. “Aren’t you curious? Valerio, this girl can be your future wife! That is exciting.”
A part of me wanted to join her excitement, but at this point in my life, I was good at suppressing that part. “Don’t make this into a fucking fairytale Prisy.”
“Oh, but it can be one! Look at Antonio and me. I knew he was meant to be mine the second I saw him. Our story is just like a fairytale.”
Yeah, a bloody one, perhaps. “Well, I have no knowledge about her, but I hope she is not so ugly and not scared of her own shadow.” I didn’t have the right to judge scared women in our world. They all had valid reasons to be frightened, but I didn’t want a wife like that. I was called the Monster, but I didn’t want to feel like one while I was with my wife.
Priscilla got a naughty smile on her face. “Well, I talked to Kira, and she actually met her a few years ago. From what I heard, you will like her.”
Oh.“What did you hear?”
She puckered her red lips. “I thought you weren’t curious.”
Damn, this woman. “I am not,” I said easily. I wouldn’t let her rile me up. I was going to meet Luciana Borelli tomorrow anyway. I would decide if I liked her then.
I got up from the couch and drowned my drink. “Let’s go if you are ready.”
Priscilla looked disappointed for a moment – probably from my disinterest in her information – but gathered herself quickly. She gave a little twirl in her tight red dress, and her golden locks flew all around her. “How do I look?”
“You look like Antonio is going to murder someone for looking at you tonight.”
She beamed up at me, and all my annoyance disappeared. “Great! That was the goal.”
We went to the other room to take Antonio away from his business calls. The possessive look he gave to Priscilla made our theories ring true. I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if I would give the same look to Luciana.
It was stupid. I didn’t even meet her yet and might still marry someone else. Also, of course, I would give my future wife a possessive look regardless of who she was. She was going to be my wife, after all. My yearning thoughts didn’t make sense against these facts, but I sometimes slipped.
I let myself have a few weak moments but made sure no one knew about them.
Another one of those thoughts came to me while we were in the club. It was a fucking great club, and we had fun dancing. Priscilla was smiling so much, and it even made Antonio’s resting grumpy face soften. She danced with me a lot but eventually let her husband pull her into his chest. Priscilla looked up at him with adoration like everyone had disappeared around her except Antonio, and he answered with a look of his own. He looked at her with pure love, like she was the brightest thing in his dark world.
I couldn’t help but want that look for myself. I yearned for what they had even though I had no right.
I tried to drown it with the music, the dancing. I didn’t carry the old views of our circle, but whenever I wanted something soft for myself, the old memories crept back in. His voice filled my head.They will think you are weak, if they know someone fucked you, boy,he would tell me.Do you want them to see you as a faggot or a man?
I got over his homophobic comments a long time ago. I couldn’t get over how he taunted me about being a man. I slept with guys as much as I did with girls, but I always made sure I did it like a man. My sex life didn’t mix with my past because a man was supposed to want sex. It didn’t matter what kind.
