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“Including Christine,” I add before he goes on. “She doesn’t want to marry Rocco. She’s being forced into this. We talked about it, Dante.”
He raises a hand to silence me, and the weight of the gesture sends shockwaves through the room. Dante commands all the respect and power that our Father did. “Nic, we’ll talk about her later.”
I slam my fists down on the table, defying him in the same way I defied our father for the past three decades. “No. We talk about her now. She’s being used as a pawn in Leonardo and Giovanni’s games. I will not watch her be forced into a marriage that will break and destroy her.”
Dante’s head tilts ever so slightly, barely noticeable to anyone else at the table who watches the two of us spar. “How far are you willing to go for this girl, Niccolo?” His gaze intensifies as he enforces the question. “What are you willing to lose for her?”
“Everything,” I answer, my voice firm with determination. “I’d die for Christine if it meant saving her life.”
A menacing grin spreads across my older brother’s face, sending a shiver down my spine. “Dying is easy, Lolo. It’s living with the consequences of your actions that will haunt you forever.” His words drip with malice as he leans in close, lowering his voice so our brothers can’t hear him. “If you want to save Christine, you must be prepared to descend into the darkness and confront what lurks within. Are you ready for what that means?”
I grab the shot glass, its smooth surface cool against my fingertips, and bring it to my lips. I never break eye contact as I toss it back, letting the sharp liquid burn its way down my throat. “I’m ready to do whatever it takes to keep Christine safe.Come hell or high water,” I nod solemnly, my voice filled with resolve.
“Good,” he leans back in his chair. “Because hell is more likely.”
Chapter 30
Christine
Iwould be more worried about Niccolo if Finals weren’t right around the corner. The end of Thanksgiving weekend means we are less than three weeks away from the biggest test of the semester—and we have one in every class.
Ever since Niccolo sent me away after finding out about his father’s passing, he hasn’t answered my texts or calls or even come to class. Suddenly, I find myself empathizing with his previous struggles to get a response from me.
I didn’t know Nic’s father well, nor was I familiar with their relationship. But losing a parent is never easy.
The first time I met Fausto Terlizzi was when Niccolo married my mother. He grabbed my hand, brought it to his mouth, and told me I was the prettiest little girl he’d ever seen. But he said it in a way that made my stomach ache.
Niccolo advised me to stay away from Fausto after that, but by the time I turned sixteen, it didn’t matter anymore. The Terlizzi family events were attended by girls much younger than me, and Fausto had moved on to harassing them. No one ever stoppedhim, and I thought it was weird. But everyone turned a blind eye to his creepy behavior, and there was nothing I could do.
I think about that in between studying for Finals and spending my days in the library. I wait for Niccolo to text back, and try to figure out what I was doing during Calculus because none of my notes make sense.
Kaye effortlessly progresses through her Finals prep, informing me that if I had dedicated the semester to studying rather than fooling around with Theo from the football team, I would have a stronger grasp of the material.
I playfully respond that if she had spent more time studying instead of fucking her stepbrother, she wouldn’t be pregnant. It’s a fun little game we like to play where we both wind up angry and frustrated. Finals have a way of driving people crazy.
Studying with Sienna is more my speed. She has flashcards and she bites her nails down to the quick while reviewing them.
“I’m not dumb,” she swears, “I just don’t test well.” But I appreciate the realism of our study sessions because it reflects my own fears: that I spent the entire term learning material but will still somehow bomb the test and fail the class.
I’m almost thankful for Niccolo’s absence for the week because it gives me more time to ponder my upcoming nuptials and figure out how to get out of them without hurting anyone. With each passing day that I don’t find a solution, I feel a growing sense of dread in the pit of my stomach.
But as I make my way to the library on Saturday night, students filling the seats around me with only one weekend before Finals remaining, my stepfather finally reappears via text message.
Niccolo
Hi beautiful
As my phone lights up with a new notification, my heart jumps into my throat. I feel a rush of emotions flood through me as I see his name on the screen—excitement, nervousness, and a tinge of sadness. It’s been so long since we’ve spoken, and I didn’t realize how much I missed him until now.
Hey. How are you?
Niccolo
Im gnna need you to pick me up
As my eyes scan the screen, I frown in slight annoyance at the easy misspellings. It’s 8 pm on a Saturday, so maybe he’s getting drunk with his friends. But then again, why would he want to do that when he could be spending time with me? The thought nags at me, and I can’t push it aside. The sound of distant laughter filters across the room, adding to my frustration. A pang of longing hits me, wishing I could be there with him, wherever he may be.
“Don’t think like that,” I chastise myself. “I don’t want to be with Niccolo. Being apart is for our own good.”
