Page 108 of Vicious Intentions
I’ve been so caught up in worrying about how Anna would hate me that I forgot how alone she’ll feel during that time.
It’s true that I don’t mind her talking to her family, especially since I know how much they mean to her. But until we’ve cemented our marriage and solidified our union, that’s a risk I won’t be foolish enough to take, especially early on.
Not only because Anna is a flight risk and would likely use the opportunity to leave me, but also because Romano would use whatever means necessary to steal her back. Even a simple phone call could jeopardize everything.
Porca miseria.If this day couldn’t get worse, it just did. By the time I reach my room, I’m wound tight again.
I head straight for the shower, letting the hot water beat down on me in an attempt to wash off the tension clinging to my skin. It doesn’t help, though. After putting on some sweats and a T-shirt, I lie on my bed, knowing that tonight I’m the one who has to wait for her call, not the other way around.
I stare at the clock on my dresser, watching the minutes drag by, my muscles tightening with each one that passes without hearing her voice. But just as my last nerve wears thin, my phone comes to life in my hand. Only Anna isn’t calling. She’s trying to FaceTime me.
Merda.I can’tnotanswer. I can’t make another excuse like I did last Christmas. And I sure as shit can’t ask Raffaele to answer for me. No. I only have one option here. Answer the goddamn phone myself.
First, I fumble with the lights, then set the phone on my dresser and sit at the edge of my bed, angling it just right so she only sees me from the neck down before answering.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” I greet the second her beautiful face comes into view, my heart twisting inside my chest at the mere sight of her.
“Thank you,” she beams excitedly. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to answer.”
“Did you enjoy yourself today?” I reply instead, steering us toward safer ground.
“I did. Thank you,” she says, and the sparkle in her blue eyes nearly undoes me.
Fuck. I am so fucked.
“I’m sorry I didn’t send you a gift. I wasn’t sure it would be safe, given how my last present was received by your family.”
She lets out a giggle. “Speaking of which, I totally forgot to tell you. One of my father’scaposactually claimed the gift as his. Well, not his exactly, but that it came from his son, Antonio.”
My hands clutch the fabric of the duvet at the thought of some man I don’t even know having the audacity to claim my gift to Anna as his.
“And what did you say to that?” I clear my throat.
“Nothing. What could I say?”
She’s right. She couldn’t tell her father the gift came from me. Better that he believe it came from one of his men than from the future Don of theCosa Nostra.
“But this right here… seeing you, it’s the best present I could ask for.”
She isn’t really seeing me, only the faint outline of my body. I made sure the lighting was low enough that I’m mostly covered in shadow, just in case the phone slips and she catches a glimpse of who she’s really been talking with this whole time.
It’s bad enough she’s already sent me more than a few cold remedies for my ‘raspy throat.’
“Give me a second,” she says out of the blue.
I then watch as the image shifts away from Anna’s face, the camera wobbling slightly before settling again. Now she’s sitting on the edge of her bed, mirroring my position almost perfectly. She’s even angled the phone so most of her face is out of view, except for her lips.
I’m not exactly pleased with the change, but I understand what she’s trying to do. If I won’t show my face, then neither will she.
When I glance at my own image, I realize my mouth is visible, too.Merda.
Thankfully, Anna doesn’t seem to notice much of a difference between my brother and me. Though the idea of Anna being familiar with Raffaele’s mouth in any way sends my blood pressure skyrocketing.
“There. Perfect,” she says, her lips lifting into a smile.
Yes, you are.
But I don’t say those words aloud. I know how much they trigger her. And tonight, I want her to feel loved for who she is, not for who others expect her to be.
