By the time I reach the castello, hours have passed since Mari got on the plane, but my body is still threaded with electric anger, and my hands still shake when I recall the panic in her voice. Being inside this car is the closest I’ve ever come to knowing what a lion feels like caged.
I want to tear Polo apart with my own damn teeth for what he did.
The gate is open. It’s the only obvious sign that something’s wrong as I drive into the yard. The castello and the tower loom before me, their dramatic silhouette all the more ominous now that it’s the scene of Polo’s plot to betray me. I’ve always felt a hint of unease whenever I come back here, but it’s different this time. There’s something final about it.
After I’m done here today, I’m not sure I’ll return.
Small rocks crunch beneath my leather shoes as I make my way to the staff house. I glance around, on high alert, but I don’t expect Polo to be here. He would know to run far away after Martina got away. When I pass the garage, I look inside and see another car is missing—the black Ferrari he’s always loved. Well, that’s the confirmation that he’s on his way to Sal to start his new life.
It’ll be a short one.
The door to the staff house is cracked open, and when I step over the threshold, the air is still and quiet. A chair is knocked over near the center of the room. I swallow, imagining Mari knocking it over as she ran up the stairs looking for safety. She must have been terrified.
My piccolina is stronger than she’ll ever know.
Inside the bedroom, I find Tommaso and Allegra.
The thought of Mari finding them like this makes me sick. The sight of their lifeless bodies crushes my chest, but I dig my nails into my palms and use the pain to dampen all other emotions. I don’t have time to linger on this loss.
There’s work to do.
Walking to the edge of the bed, I glance down at their blood-soaked bodies. On Allegra’s chest lies the silver cross that Polo’s always wore around his neck. He must have tossed it onto her body after he killed them. What for? Did he hope it would make God forgive him for his sins? He lived with the two of them for two fucking years. They were good people—kind, hard-working, modest. They didn’t want anything other than to live a quiet life out here.
Something wet trails down my cheek. The moment I feel it, I look at the ceiling and suck in a harsh breath.
There’s no forgiveness waiting for Polo at the end of this.
I pick up the cross and slide it in my pocket. Allegra’s not getting buried with anything that belonged to that fucking snake.
The work that follows is difficult. I could have made it easier on myself by burying them by the castello, but I have it in my head that they should be laid to rest by my mother. So I get a wheelbarrow from the shed and move their bodies deep into the woods.
Then I begin to dig.
With each lift of the shovel, the reality of the situation sinks in deeper and deeper.
Polo was eight when my mother died. She knew about him, but she never told me. It wasn’t until Polo’s mother reached out to me that I found out I had a younger half-brother.
I remember when I first told Tommaso and Allegra about him.
They were happy to get a new face at the castello.
They got along with him.
And so did I. As soon as I met him, I projected myself onto him. I hadn’t realized I was doing it, but I remember assuming he’d have the same need for vengeance against Sal as I did.
Then one night, he proved me wrong. It took us a while to even come to the topic, but eventually Polo’s curiosity won out. He asked me if I knew our father personally, and when I said I did, his eyes lit up. He asked me lots of questions. I answered him honestly, explaining that our biological father was a despicable man.
I thought that was the end of it, but a few days later, he gave me a letter to send to Sal.
I said I would, but I never did.
And that lie was perhaps what started to shift the balance.
I’d forgotten that some young men long for a father. For them, knowing the substance of the man who brought them into this world is akin to a primal need. It overrides logic and reason.
I slam the shovel into the ground and squeeze my eyes shut.
How did I fuck up this badly with him?
How did I fail to recognize that his growing envy wouldn’t just disappear one day?
How could I have been so careless and allowed this to happen?
Tommaso and Allegra were under my protection, and I failed them.
And Mari… At some point, my focus shifted from keeping her safe to keeping her in my bed.
I pop my eyes open and resume digging. As the pile of dirt grows with each lift of my shovel, so does my conviction.
Polo and Sal will die at my hands for what they did. I’ll do whatever I have to in order to be the one to kill the don.
And Polo?
He’ll watch me kill his precious fucking father, so that he knows exactly what’s coming for him next.
I’m finished two hours and some minutes later. As I step onto the path that leads back to the house, I glance over my shoulder at the burning cottage.
The flames reach high up into the sky. Most of the stone foundation and walls will remain, but when the fire dies down, enough of this wretched place will be gone.
I always said this place was a reminder, but I don’t need it anymore.
I know exactly what I have to do.
Polo’s cross digs into my palm as I fist it inside my pocket.
When I get back to the car, I glance at the bag of diamond jewelry Sal had me retrieve and slam on the gas.
The bag slides on the seat and gets wedged between the cushions. I should probably be more careful with it, but I don’t give a fuck. If there’s one thing Damiano has, it’s money. I’m half-tempted to toss it out the window.
After I got off the phone with Mari, I checked to make sure the diamonds were real, and they are. Clearly, Polo did a shit job coordinating his plan with the don. If Sal knew what Polo was planning to do today, there’s no way he would have sent me on this retrieval. But now, the large amount of jewelry Sal wanted me to get makes more sense. Sal was trying to use me until he couldn’t anymore. The pieces were in a vault only Sal and I can open, but he’s not risking travel right now. So he sent me.
If Polo’s expecting a warm welcome from his father, he’s going to be disappointed. Not only is he going to show up empty-handed, he’ll also be blamed for Sal losing the equivalent of ten million euros.
I scoff to myself. Polo was too eager to prove his worth, and instead, he showed everyone he’s a fucking amateur.
Pathetic.
He must be panicking. He wanted to deliver Mari to Sal like an offering, and now all he has is the information she was with me and the location of an empty castle.
I drive to De Rossi’s hideout in San Cesario like a madman, turning over my plans for Polo and Sal inside my head.
There’s no time to play around anymore, which means the relationship between Mari and I has to come to an end. De Rossi can’t suspect there was ever anything between us, because if he can’t trust me with his sister, how the fuck is he ever going to trust me with a secret that could undermine his position as the new don? The fiasco with Polo is enough to put me on shaky ground as is, but I hope it’s not enough for him to refuse to honor the favor he promised to me.
“Fuck.” I blow out a breath and run my hand through my hair. Mari just survived an attack, and I’m about to push her away.
It’ll devastate her.
But I’ll be doing this for her too. She has to understand. She’s a smart girl. Her and I were never meant to work outside the castello, because out here in the real world, I’m the last man her brother would pair her with.
No, I have nothing to offer her but vengeance.
The villa comes into view, its perimeter flanked by a tight ring of guards. I texted Ras a few minutes earlier to let him know I was almost there, and now De Rossi’s right-hand man stands by the open gate, waving me forward.
I pull into the driveway, shut off the ignition, and climb out.
Ras walks over, and when he gets close enough, I throw the bag of jewelry at him. He catches it, weighs it in his hand, and smirks. “You come bearing gifts.”
“Where is she?”
“Inside.” He slaps me on the back. “You know, based on your reputation, I expected something better than this.”
“Martina is alive, isn’t she? I kept my end of the bargain.”
He laughs. “Yeah, yeah. Well, I’m not sure if Damiano will see it that way, but you’re welcome to make your case.”
I clench my jaw. “How is she?”
Ras’s smile melts, and his gaze turns contemplative. “She’s shaken up, but she’s fine. She got upset when Dem said you fucked up. You should have seen it. She shut him down real quick. Said she’d have never gotten away without you.”
I don’t like the knowing hint in his voice, so I shove past him and make my way inside the house.
As soon as I hear her, relief ripples through me. I halt in the foyer, just out of sight, and press my palm against the wall.
The desire to walk into the next room and take her into my arms is so strong it’s nearly breaks me. I squeeze my eyes shut and just listen to her. She’s talking about Sophia, telling De Rossi’s wife about how the dog tackled her to the ground the first time they met. When she giggles, my chest constricts with longing. I want to record that sound and play it on repeat.
Get it together. You know what you have to do.
One breath in. One breath out.
Again and again.
When the reins of control are back in my hands, I run my palm over my mouth and step inside the room.
Martina doesn’t see me right away. She’s sitting beside Valentina on the sofa, De Rossi’s standing near them, and they’re absorbed in their conversation. He says something to her that makes her laugh.
I drink in her smile. I wonder if she’ll ever smile at me like that again.
My expression fixed on neutral, I clear my throat.
Three pairs of eyes jump to me, but my gaze stays on her.
“Giorgio,” she breathes.
My feet are glued to the ground. I should be happy she’s not running to me. I don’t know how I’d keep the emotion out of my face if she did. All I can think about is how fucking good it would feel to hold her again. To feel her soft, warm body molding to mine.
How long can I stay silent to prolong this moment?
The moment before I break her heart?
Cazzo. Not long enough.
“How are you feeling?” I let my voice cool, as if I’m speaking to a stranger. My hands are tight fists. If I let them relax just a bit, they’ll shake. It’s taking everything I have to put on this act.
Mari picks up on the change in me immediately, her brows furrowing at my tone. “I’m fine.”
“Where’s Sophia?”
She frowns. “She has a fracture in her paw. She’s sleeping. The vet gave her a sedative.”
“Good.”
Her lips part, and her eyes are swimming with confusion.
I can’t fucking take it. Breaking our eye contact, I turn to De Rossi. “We need to talk.”
His jaw is hard. “I’m looking forward to hearing your explanation for how the fuck this happened. Come on.”
We walk out of the room, and I resist the urge to look back at Mari, but I feel her gaze burning through my back.
