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“You are not listening,” he grits.
“You are the one that isn't listening,” I clap back.
“Rose, I want you.”
“I don't want you to want me, it will not work,” I exhale, “I appreciate your friendship and how you showed up for me, but that is all I can give you. My friendship, I can't give you anything more,” I swallow. “If you will excuse me now, enjoy the rest of your evening.”
I start to move past him but he grabs me by the forearm and pulls me back.
His grip tightens in a way that has me wincing from the pain. I'm beginning to feel in my bones as if he could paralyze my arm. He pulls me closer to his chest and brings his mouth to my ear to say something. And the next thing I know, I hear a loud crunch against bone and he is flat on the floor, with blood coming out of his now battered nose.
I turn to find Benedetto behind me with hooded eyes and tight jawlines. My heart, I could throw myself at him for being my knight in a tux right now. No one, not even my brother or my father, has ever stood up for me like that.
I wrap my arms around myself, hugging myself for comfort instead of him.
Something is happening inside of me, and it has Benedetto at the core of it.
Chapter Nineteen
BENEDETTO
Icannot understand what Father Lorenzo is saying anymore, even though I have my eyes on him. The whole of today has been like this for me.
My attention is on Rosaline and the fucker in white looking like some wannabe dandy version of Santa. His mannerism is soft but menacing. Her body language looks like she would rather take flight than be in his presence. But that's typical Rosaline. She always looks like she would rather be anywhere but where she is.
She tries to move away from him, but he stops her, grabbing her by the arm. I grind my teeth and clench my fists as my eyes drop to where his hand holds her back too tightly.
Bloody fucking dimwit.
“Excuse me,” I throw at Father Lorenzo, ending our conversation quickly as I beeline for Rosaline.
I leave her side for a few minutes and this is what I get. Thank God I kept my eyes on her.
Heck, I'll pound the shit out of him. I swerve, almost hitting a waiter carrying a tray of drinks, which sends me behind Rosaline and gives me the perfect place I need to be to throw a punch. I strike him before his brain gets the chance to make out what I'm doing.
He lets go of his hold on her immediately, staggers a quick while, and falls to the floor, with his nose dripping blood. Rose turns to me and blinks repeatedly like she cannot believe what is happening.
Well, she is not the only one. The guests turn in our direction, then as quickly as they turn, they look away, continuing with their business. Casualties like this are bound to happen at a mafia wedding.
She hugs herself and I smile slightly at her. I want to hug her instead because I can see how shaken she is, but that’s not an affection she wants from me. And even though I know I'm a despicable man and can hug her whether she wants it or not, I'll hold my peace for her sake, tonight. It's been a long day already and I don't want to throw her in the face of the media any more than I have, having her in my arms all day. She deserves a break from the madness.
“We should leave,” I nod toward the exit and she nods her answer.
It's more for myself than her, because I'm not so sure what I will do to the son of a bitch lying on the floor if I stay. I want to pound him until I change the color of his suit to blood red from the inside out.
I hate the fucker. I hated him the moment I saw him talking to her.
“After you,” I smile at her and grab a champagne flute from a waiter, gulp it, and return the glass to another waiter’s tray as we walk outside the venue into the shroud of darkness.
“Can you drive? You seem drunk,” she gulps but keeps walking even though she doesn't know where my car is parked.
“I can manage.”
We walk into a place with a white light just a few feet from where my car is parked and she stops hugging herself enough for me to see her arm, with his fingers imprinted on her.
I halt, keeping my eyes on the spot, and my fingers digging painfully into my palms. I will fucking kill him. I swear to fucking God, I'll kill him.
“Benedetto?” Rosaline closes the distance, “I'm fine.”
