Page 3 of Secrets of the Brother
“Are you serious? Mother—”
“Claudia.”
I let out a frustrated sigh. “Claudia, the entire fucking—”
“Don’t curse. Only trollops curse.”
I looked heavenward and prayed for patience.
Taking a deep breath, I started again, speaking slowly. “Claudia, the entire fu—the entire village is here gossiping about how he’s the one who probablykilled Renata. Everyone knows it’salwaysthe husband. Anyone who watchesDatelineknows that.”
“What isDateline?”
“It’s an American true crime show, but that’s not the point. The point is, he killed your daughter and you’re here fawning all over him like he's the suffering son-in-law.”
She picked a nonexistent piece of tobacco off her lip before responding.
It was a gesture she'd seen an Italian sex symbol do in an old black-and-white movie once.
Everything about my mother was affectation.
Same with my sister, or at least it had been the same with my sister.
“We never should have agreed to let you study in America. It has given you a smart mouth.” After an overly dramatic sigh, she continued. “Bianca, there are sensitive business matters at play here that don’t concern you.”
Translation—my parents’ greed couldn’t afford to make an enemy of the Cavalieri billions.
I lowered my veil to cover my face once again. “Well I, for one, want no part of this farce. I’m going home.”
I had only taken a few steps when I was wrenched back by my hair.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
I turned to face my furious father, Bruno Moretti. His bloated face was a mottled purple.
I pulled my long curls out of his grasp and lowered my voice as I responded. “Home.”
“The hell you are. You’re going to march up there and pay your respects to Don Cavalieri and offer your brother-in-law a groveling apology for your disgraceful behavior earlier. I have already told them it was a side effect of some tranquilizers an American doctor gave you to handle your grief over your sister’s tragic passing.”
I wrenched my veil back up to face him. “I will do no such thing.”
His beefy fist shot out and grabbed the collar of my dress. “Listen, you spoiled little bitch—”
Before I could respond, an iron band wrapped around my waist and pulled me backward against a solid wall of muscle, breaking my father’s hold.
A dark, commanding voice ground out, “Get your hands off her.”
I looked up past the brim of my hat to see Enzo Cavalieri’s cold, emerald eyes glaring down at me.
CHAPTER2
ENZO
No one touched her like that and lived.
No one. Not even her father.
I didn’t give a fuck if every last person in this room was only here to gawk at the wife killer.
