Page 2 of Forbidden War (Forbidden 2)
It’s the truth. My brother doesn’t want to get dragged back into being the gatekeeper and the mess cleaner. He’d like to keep his hands clean…and I don’t blame him. I’ve just set a lot of weight on his shoulders.
His voice drops to a barely audible hiss. “She’d better watch her back. You got me?”
The moment of guilt I was experiencing evaporates. Did he just threaten my wife?
Our eyes lock. All the fury and anger are back on his face, once again shocking me with their unfamiliarity. This isn’t the Armani I’ve known all my life. This is a much more dangerous version of him, and I’m the one who unleashed it.
Holding up my hands defensively, I say, “Armani, Jesus, wait a minute—”
“What the FUCK were you thinking?” he interrupts, slamming his fist into the wall. It doesn’t make a hole, but it’s still enough to make the plaster crumble.
A part of me wants to feel bad about what I’ve done, but the other part just wants to be with Karina. We both took a huge risk, but she’s the one who will lose if I’m not careful. I need to strategize. Spin this. It’s the only way to keep her safe from her family and mine.
“I was thinking about this family, that’s what!” I shout back indignantly. “Are you going to listen to me, or would you rather keep yelling?”
Scowling, Armani murmurs, “Keep your voice down.”
He stalks back over to his desk, shaking out his hand as he goes. I watch as he irritably shuffles some papers around before dropping into his chair, looking over at me expectantly. “Fine. Speak. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have this marriage annulled.”
I huff in exasperation. “Look, I had a plan. I knew who she was from the get-go, and I knew how valuable she could be.”
The lie makes me feel sicker than knowing I’m responsible for Father Alfredo’s murder. But just as I expected, Armani perks right up at my words, so there’s no going back.
“Go on,” he says.
Scrubbing my face with my hands, I put on my best exasperated expression. “I’ve been trying to get info out of her about her family, their business, anything that might help us in tracking down our suspect. But she’s clueless. A dead end.”
“And the wedding, was necessary why?” Armani asks.
Time to seal the deal. Bile burns my throat, but I force out a cruel laugh. “I fucking hate her fiancé. I didn’t want him to win.”
He closes his eyes again and leans far back in the chair, so he’s looking up at the ceiling when he opens his lids. “This whole damn thing was about some racing vendetta?”
I shrug. “It wasn’t my initial plan, but yeah. What better way to get under that dickhead Pietro’s skin than to steal his fiancée right out from under him?”
“Jesus, Marco. This is low, even for you. Why not just sleep with her and send her on her way?”
He’s buying my story without a second thought. Which, of course he is, because running off with a rival’s intended is exactly the sort of shit that my family would expect of me. That’s what the old me would do, anyway. To my relief, though, Armani seems somewhat appeased.
“Too late for that. But I still think she could be useful,” I tell him.
“Maybe. Either way, you’re stuck with her for now,” he grumbles, then looks into space as if he’s running a thought through his mind. “Though not for long if we play our cards right.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. Sitting taller in my chair, I put my forearms on my knees and lean forward, observing my brother, trying to gauge the risk. The sensation of threat from my own flesh and blood is back, stronger than before. Nearly smothering me.
I don’t recognize him like this, but one thing is exceptionally clear.
I need to keep my brother the hell away from my wife.
