Page 94 of Brutal Revenge

“I thought this was what you wanted, Matteo,” Giovanni says finally, his tone cautious but edged with confusion. “Isn’t this the point of the ruse? Make Antonio jealous so he comes groveling back?”

I laugh. It sounds wrong even to my drug-fucked ears. “Yeah. Exactly. This is what I want.”

“You could try to sound a little more convincing.”

“What the fuck do you want me to say, Vanni? That I’m dying to get back to my old life? That the thought of the same pussy for eternity makes me want to cut my dick off? Tell me what you want to hear, and I’ll tell you that.”

“Tell me the fucking truth.”

“I just did!” My roar bounces off the concrete walls. “But you don’t want to hear it because you think we’re all like you. That our first love is ouronlylove. But that isn’t true, Vanni. If it were, Ma wouldn’t be dead. She’d still be here.”

The fact that I’m as cut up about this as I am about our mother’s death shows what a pathetic idiot I am. They shouldn’t compare, but the lies coming from me tonight are the equivalent of trying to patch a bullet hole with a Band-Aid.

I’m a fucking idiot, but there’s no way I’m gonna let my brothers know I got played, that I let myself feel something I shouldn’t have, or that a woman got under my skin like no one ever has. So I keep my back turned to Vanni and my voice steady while pretending everything’s exactly how I planned it.

Giovanni doesn’t buy my lies. In the silence after my confession, I can sense his frustration that I would lie to him, but he doesn’t push me. He allows me to lie because my dishonesty affects no one but myself.

“Okay,” he says at last, his one word heavy with disbelief. “If you’re sure this is what you want.”

“I’m sure.”

I imagine his sigh sinking his shoulders since I’m not brave enough to look at him. “All right. I’ll let them know your decision.”

Finally, I turn to look at him. His expression is more menacing thanany punch he’s thrown at me. Sympathy fills his eyes, and I fucking hate it. It’s worse than the anger and judgment I was expecting. It’s worse than anything.

“Them?” I ask, voice sharper than I intend.

Giovanni hesitates, then says, “Antonio is in my office, negotiating for the contract to marry Azra to be returned to him.”

For the first time tonight, the world spins how I wanted it to when I strived to lose myself to drugs.

“He’shere,” I say slowly, “inmyfucking house.”

Grateful I might stop bending over and taking it up the ass from a fuckface like Antonio Adami, Giovanni nods.

That’s all it takes for my fury to boil over.

I storm up the stairwell. Blood rushes in my ears, and my anger grows with every step. I am unsure of what I plan to do when I get there. I really want to smash his face in, but I want him alive when I rip his intestines out by the tiny slit at the top of his now cut dick.

The only thing I know for sure is that I’m not letting him walk intomyhome and take what belongs to me.

When I reach Giovanni’s office, the tornado whirling inside me tapers to a storm.

Antonio isn’t the only person in the room. My father is here as well.

And so is Azra.

She sits between my father and Antonio like a priceless antique about to be auctioned. Her posture is stiff, and her eyes are unreadable as her fingers twist in the hem of her immodest dress.

My father glances up as I enter, his expression calm and businesslike. “Good,” he says. “Now that you’re here, we can complete the terms.”

I can barely hear him. I’m too busy staring at Azra, silently seething that she won’t look at me.

Through the speakers in my helmet, I heard her accept Antonio’s roundabout way of proposing, but if she wants me to go along with her plan, she’ll need to look me in the eyes and tell me he is who she wants.

“In good faith,” my father begins, “Antonio hasoffered a one-million-dollar settlement for the contracted marriage to be placed back into his name.”

Not looking up, I bark out, “I don’t want his filthy money.”