Page 87 of Vicious Intentions
Raffaele’s eyes harden, but I doubt Anna sees it.
“I’m glad you liked it,” he says, playing the part.
“I loved it. So much.”
“Better than the necklace I gave you for your birthday?”
Now it’s my turn to stare daggers at the fucker.
He gave her a birthday present?!
“I love them both in equal measure,” she giggles, the sound easing the sting of her words, even if only by a little.
“Do you still wear it?” Raffaele insists, as if he knows the subject is physically making me ill.
“I never take it off.”
“Good, Anna. That’s good. I like knowing it’s always close to your heart.” He winks at her. Or is the little shit winking at me? I can’t tell anymore, because all I see is red.
“How was your Christmas? You sounded like you were too busy to talk to me last night.”
I hear how her voice drops, hurt coating the last words, but she is doing her utmost best not to show it. I understand how she feels. Last night, I cut our conversation short the second she asked to call me. I don’t like going to sleep without talking to her either. Maybe that’s the real reason why I tossed and turned all night.
“Yeah, you know how mafia celebrations are. They get a little rowdy. Sorry about that.”
The fucker doesn’t sound sorry at all. And Anna senses it immediately.
“What’s wrong? You don’t sound like yourself today,” she asks, weary, sensing something is off.
And it is. Because Raffaele doesn’t sound like me. And that’s the problem.
“Sorry,” Raffaele quickly says, his attempt at doing damage control. “I guess I am pretty out of it this morning. All that partying tires a guy, you know?”
Testa di cazzo!
I didn’t go out partying last night. I was in bed by ten. He was the one who probably stumbled in during the early hours of the morning, not me.Cretino!
“Oh. Okay,” Anna mutters, sounding more confused than ever.
I signal for Raffaele to wrap it up, before he does or says something I can’t come back from. But instead, the fucker puts on a performance as if auditioning for Broadway.
“Sorry, I’m a bit off today. Matteo and I had a huge fight last night, and well, I guess I still haven’t gotten over it.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Anna says, her previous wariness replaced with genuine concern.
“I’ll live, I guess. It’s just hard sometimes, you know. He’s always on my case. It’s gotten even worse this year.”
“How so?”
“Well, the idiot fell in love with the wrong girl,” Raffaele explains, sounding almost forlorn. But the gleam in his eyes tells a different story. That sparkle spells trouble. “It’s sad, really. He thinks he’s fooling everyone and that no one sees it, but I know the fucker has fallen deep. It’s pathetic, really.”
“Falling in love is… pathetic?” Anna parrots softly, sounding more confused by the second.
“It is when the girl you fall in love with has already given her heart to your kid brother.”
And there it is, the nail in my coffin. In one single sentence, he manages to kill whatever ounce of affection that Anna might have had for me. I mean, forhim.Shit. I’m all turned around and mixed up now.
All I know is that, with just a few carefully chosen words, Raffaele has managed to plant doubt in Anna’s mind about my intentions. No girl falls in love with a man out of thin air, which means Raffaele must have encouraged those feelings. In other words, while he’s supposedly been texting Anna, he’s also been playing the field. And I have done no such thing.
