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Every damn minute I had to spend in that villa felt like pure torture. The place created a tingling under my skin, reminding me of insects feasting on a decaying body until nothing was left.
That's exactly how it felt. Every time I entered the villa, I left a small part of me behind.
My gaze slid to Emilio, my brother and head of the family, who sat behind his desk and was probably about to punch Taddeo Santoro's face. At least, that's how it looked. Leaning against the wall next to the door, my other brother, Dario, looked like he was also ready for a brawl.
I, meanwhile, had missed the part about why Taddeo had asked for a private meeting in the first place.
My memories of him were not particularly good. He was a choleric man who had neither his anger nor his aggression under control and offended everyone with his behavior. He was not a good employer. He treated people around him like dirt, and his reliability left much to be desired. Whenever it was up for debate on whom to recruit for a job, I would give priority to almost anyone else.
Before putting my security in this man's hands, I would rather have trusted an unqualified security guard who had never worked with us.
I twisted my mouth, drumming my fingers on the tabletop. I had even pulled my chair to the other side of the desk to put as much distance between us as possible.
I could not stand this man, and had no problem letting him know.
"I demand reparation," Taddeo hissed. By now, his face was flushed red.
He was probably about to explode.
Emilio leaned back in his chair and stared at him with his arms crossed before pulling out a stack of pictures and slapping them in front of him. "If anyone can demand reparations here, it's me."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the pictures showed the remains of a house that had burned to the ground. Someone had done a great job.
"I had no way of knowing this was your property."
"But it was fine as long as you thought it was hers?" Emilio's eyebrow went up.
Someone had given the wrong answer.
"Surely none of this would have been necessary if you had informed me when she came to you for help."
Emilio snorted. Shaking his head, he took the photographs back. "Why would I have done that? When I met her, she first spent two days in the hospital. And I'm pretty sure that was because she was running from you, Taddeo."
I leaned forward. All at once, my interest was aroused. Had he beaten his daughter?
"What do you want?" I growled. I didn't even need to stare at him; his attention turned to me.
"I'm not having this conversation with you."
"But I'm having it with you. So answer."
"He's been drumming all this newfangled stuff into her," Taddeo began, again on the verge of exploding.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Women can live alone. Women can have careers. Women don't need a husband to live safely."
I raised an eyebrow. So that's the kind of asshole he was.
"That still doesn't tell me what you expect from my brother."
"He corrupted her, so he will also see to it that she gets her honor back. He will marry her after teaching her all this nonsense. Or I will be forced to impose other consequences."
I stared at him. Why didn't we kill him on the spot? Then he could shove his demands and threats up his tight ass. Unfortunately, I vaguely remembered that he played a not inconsiderable role in matters of export and thus was practically protected for precisely these scenarios.
"My brother already has a wife." I didn't let slip that he still hadn't married Flavia.
"It's not an obstacle," he returned.
