Page 20 of Sweet Deception

“You should’ve watched and recorded her reaction.” Antonio added, grinning. “Imagine us seeing that today,”

I sighed. “I had business. Next time, I’ll film it.”

Grandma studied me, her piercing eyes probing for lies. “The next few days will be worse for her, Grandma. Don’t worry.”

She eased back, finally placated. I’d never lied to her or anyone. Why wouldn’t she believe me? We were savages, forged by a brutal past.

“Force yourself on her if you have to,” Valentina ordered. “Today.”

“Consider it done.”

She nodded, shifting her focus to my siblings, interrogating them one by one.

Dinner ended, and I slipped out before anyone could trap me in conversation.

At my car, a voice stopped me. “Can I meet her?”

I turned. Uncle Antonio.

“Why?”

He smirked. “Why? Really?”

“You’ll meet her eventually. Not now.” I climbed in and drove off. If he got near her, he’d hurt her. I knew it.

Back home, I stormed into the master bedroom, fury surging as my parents’ deaths replayed in my mind. She deserved every torment my family craved. But she wasn’t there.

“Zoya!” I barked. “Where is she?”

“She went out.” Zoya replied. “Said she was bored staying here.”

“You let her?”

“You didn’t order me to stop her.” Zoya’s calm held firm. She’s one of my most trusted and fearless soldiers. I trusted her, let her defiance slide.

“You know where she went?”

“I tracked her.”

“Good. Send me her location.”

She’s alone in Moscow, no allies, no clue who to trust, yet she walked out. Reckless.

“Should I stop her next time?” Zoya asked.

“No. She’s not a prisoner. Let her go where she wants, but keep my men trailing her.”

“Got it.” She left.

My family wouldn’t recognize her in public, they’d never hurt her without knowing who she is. She belongs to me. If anyone is to inflict pain on her, it has to be me. Not Grandma, not my uncles, no matter how much they thirst for revenge. If they want revenge so bad, let them storm Italy themselves.

Yesterday, she’d fallen asleep in the library, her cheek pressed to a hardcover. I hadn’t meant to stop. But I’d stood there, watching her chest rise and fall, her fingers still curled around the book like it mattered more than anything in this world.

She looked like someone who belonged far away from blood and vengeance. A woman my family would devour.

I should’ve dragged her back to the bedroom. Made her understand her place.

Instead, I’d turned and left.