Page 92 of The Beast Who Broke Me
“I’ll be sure to keep in touch.”
He smiles. “Really, cousin, you should be thanking me.” His green eyes slide between us, and that knowing smile returns. “Hasn’t this man been the best thing for you?”
I don’t know what he sees. I don’t know how he sees it. But I keep my face neutral. “I suppose he’s better than the Bratva.”
“There we are,” Tiberius says. “Now you understand my thinking. The Bratvaarea problem. A problem for all of us.”
“If they’re so bad, why are you a member of the Obelisk?”
“Well, someone has to keep an eye on them,” he says, still with that Cheshire cat grin. “It really has been a pleasure, Cal,” he says, reaching out to take my hand in both of his. His skin is warm, and he doesn’t seem to feel the cold at all. He turns to Dami. “Keep up the good work, Mr. Orsini,” he says cheerfully, and offers his hand. Damiano doesn’t take it. “No? There’s no reason we can’t be friends. Perhaps next time we meet, I can persuade you.”
He steps backward across the threshold and closes the door. The last impression I have of him is the sight of those green eyes, retreating into the dark interior.
I turn to Dami, who is watching the street, hand still on his gun. “I’m not sure what to make of him,” I say.
“There’s nothing to make of him. He’s just another asshole looking for a throne. Come on.” He jerks his head and we head back toward the car.
“Do you think so?” I ask as we walk. “He didn’t strike me as someone particularly interested in responsibility. And I’m not sure how good his man Marcello really is.”
“He’s very fucking good,” Dami says, almost unwillingly.
I scoff. “You think?Youwere the danger in that room, so why did he hold his gun onme?”
“Stop yapping and get in the goddamn car before someone else takes a run at you,” Damiano growls.
But I stop dead on the sidewalk and stare at him, as everything suddenly makes sense. It’s like my brain finally started working again.
Marcello held his gun on me because he knew that threatening me was the fastest way to neutralize Damiano Orsini.
“Dami,” I start breathlessly. “You…”
He grabs me by the arm and starts dragging me. “Whatever fool thing you’re about to say, you can sayin the car.” He hustles me in and climbs in behind me.
“You really are protecting me,” I say, as Vito takes off.
“I told you?—”
“Yes, you told me you would. And you have. But I—I’ve never thanked you,” I tell him. “So…thank you.”
“What in the fuck for? If you think I want you alive for any other reason than to—” He stares at me for a second before turning away. “I’ll drop you home, and then I need to go to this meeting. I need to put out some feelers.”
“Feelers? For what?”
“Didn’t you listen to a damn word that slimy cousin of yours said? Something is going on with the Bratva. Something I don’t know about. Something Ineedto know.”
“I should have followed up on that,” I agree. I did my best to keep up with Tiberius, but I’m still not at full capacity.
But Dami snorts. “No point. That smug little asshole likes his secrets. He wasn’t going to spill this one. He just wanted to see what happened when he poked the bear.”
“Well, he learned,” I say with a small laugh. “Maybe he won’t be so fast to pokemybear next time.”
He gives an unwilling smirk. “Maybe.”
The city changes around us as we head north, Gramercy’s quiet brownstones giving way to the bustle of Midtown. And when I’m sure Dami is looking out his own window, I look at his hands.
They’re resting on his thighs, and on the back of his hand, the tattoo: a “G,” inked deep into the skin. Giuliano.
I belong to him.
