Page 58 of Bitter Poetry

He flinches, and his fingers tighten painfully against me. “I guess Don Ettore wanted to reinforce the message about you.”

He’s never called him don before, never used the formal title, and it grates on me that he does. “It can’t be Ettore.”

“Can’t it? I heard you and your husband were enjoying a nice meal while his men were working over Dante.”

God, no.Not that night. The phone calls… his smile… what happened after, me on my knees in what used to be my father’s study. I think I might be sick.

His lips curl into a sneer, and his voice lowers. “You’re the reason my brother got fucked over, the reason he was forced to leave the city and his home. The reason he was beaten. You ever seen a hand after someone takes a hammer to it? That’s what your husband planned for him. To maim him.” His eyes lower to the necklace Dante gave me. “Then you put his necklace on to fuck with him again. Guess your innocent facade is just a front. You can’t hide your true self from me. I see you and how you get off on violence,Mrs. Gallo.”

His words land like blows. They fucking hurt. I shake my head, blinking away the sting at the back of my eyes. “I didn’t… I didn’t know. How could I?”

“Babe, this is the mob. Your new husband is a don. He’s going to fuck up and fuck with any man he sees as a threat. But you just like playing bitch with people’s lives, don’t you, princess. Lucky for me, I don’t have to fake hating you so he’ll never see me as a threat.”

“Enough,” I whisper.

“Not a fucking chance. Ettore only put me on you because he knows I’d sooner fuck a corpse than you. My new mission is going to be ruining your perfect princess life any chance I get.”

I was at a low point a few days ago, and I thought I sensed something from him, a connection, maybe a chink in the animosity he directs at me.

Only how can there ever be more than animosity between us?

So stupid, Carmela.Stupid, naïve girl playing adult games you don’t understand.

Why did I put this necklace on? Why did I keep it?

I felt sick a few moments ago. Now I fear I might pass out.

“Too late to back out now, Mrs. Gallo. You’ve waved the red flag in Dante’s face, gotten him all stirred up. But that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Maybe a repeat performance to see if he’s as good at going down on you as you remember.” His smile is charming and gives away nothing of his crass words. “You’re looking a little flushed. Did I hit a nerve?”

I want to slap him. Were we alone, I would.

He sees it on my face, and his smile grows. He’s holding me too tightly, forcing me to behave when I just want to rail at him with all my rage.

“You’re sick in the head,” I hiss.

“Aww, babe. You’re hurting my feelings,” he says cheerfully.

“Feelings? You came into the world without a soul. The only feelings you have are sadistic ones.”

He laughs.

The song comes to an end. Finally. I’m shaking, emotionally brittle, and ready to snap. The moment he releases me, I sweep out of the reception without looking back.

CHRISTIAN

I shouldn’t fuck with her. She’s not having a good day. Poor baby just got married to a dickhead. I should cut her some slack.

Only I can’t help myself. It’s like her mere presence fucks with me. Her scent and those big blue eyes that are innocent, sad, and hopeful.

Ettore is dancing with his bitch sister. At least that gives Dante a break from her pawing him. I slip through the crowd, following Carmela at a discreet distance so I can see where she goes.

Maybe she’s crying? I laid it on pretty thick.

Do I care if she is?

Nope. I just don’t want her meltdown fucking with my brother.

She takes the back corridor, heading for one of the many powder rooms. A group of girls go in ahead of her. Carmela veers off to the side where an alcove gives her a hiding place.