Page 109 of Brutal Revenge

“Um…” I moisten my parched mouth before adding a sprinkling of truth to my reply. It is always easy to be deceptive when you include a handful of truths. “He heard you had moved the wedding forward a week and wanted to know if it was because we had broken the non-penetration clause of our marriage contract.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I didn’t tell him anything.”

He scoffs.

“I didn’t. I told him I didn’t answer to him, and then he left.”

“He left?”

I nod, preferring to lie without words.

“And that’s all that happened? You just talked.”

Again, I nod.

Antonio twists his lips. His reaction isn’t what I expected. He doesn’t look relieved or satisfied. He shows no signs of being reassured. He works his jaw side to side, as if Matteo not touching me is an inconvenience, and he’s irritated his paranoia didn’t pay off.

The realization sends a chill down my spine, but before I can prod for information, he stands abruptly. “Finish your breakfast. We have a schedule to keep.”

Even the makeup artist’s eyes widen in surprise when he leaves without another word shared. He doesn’t even kiss my temple in fake excitement that we’re about to become husband and wife.

I sit in silence, staring at the coffee stain spreading across my nightgown, feeling the burn on everything and nothing all at once. I can’t decide if I’m angrier at Antonio for failing the coffee test or at Matteo for leaving last night with someone else.

If the pain in my chest is anything to go by, I would say it is the latter.

Chapter 34

Matteo

I’m dead asleep on the couch, the only place I’ve been sleeping since the fight with Azra, on the verge of a coma from too much alcohol and drugs, when a freezing, violent blast of water nearly tears my shirt off my chest.

The torrent is too powerful to come from a cup or a bucket. It’s a skin-shredding blast that plasters me to the couch and scrubs my skin of every scent it’s ever captured.

I jolt upright with a strangled curse as another deluge knocks the air from my lungs. It’s so strong that it peels my shirt off my body this time.

When the water switches off, I blink through the droplets clinging to my lashes and finally make out the source. Giovanni stands at the entrance of the man cave, grasping a fire hydrant hose.

A fucking fire hydrant hose.

I can barely hear anything since my ears are waterlogged, but one voice stands out

“Told you he’d be alone. He didn’t even look at another woman all night, and he had the eye of every prime pick in the club.”

Nico’s confession is quickly chased by the fire hydrant turning backon. The torrent of water threatens to shred my skin from my bones and rattles through my core.

“What the—” I shield my face as the water punches into me like a thousand needles. “Stop! You should be happy I’m not sticking my dick in your staff, you fucking asshat.”

“True,” Nico shouts over the roar. “But keep going. He owes me a shit ton more staff than a new waitress. I lost ten bartenders last year alone because they thought they could ‘tame’ him.” He air-quotes his second-last word.

Giovanni grins like a psychopath as he tightens his grip on the hose. The pressure increases, and my body becomes one with the couch.

“Are you insane?” I yell, but the words drown in the torrent. “I’m your fucking brother. You’re not meant to waterboard me.”

I won’t lie. I stiffen imagining them punishing me a little longer. I’ve not been myself the past few days, so it’s nice to get back to a snippet of normalcy.

Finally, either the hydrant runs out of water or Giovanni grows a conscience. The blast of water stops infiltrating every hole I own, and the nozzle disperses its excess droplets on the floor.