Page 63 of The Red Queen

Instead of leaving her to answer to Mateo’s charge, Giovanni stepped in, rescuing Desi from having to come up with an answer. “My wife has apologized. You will either accept it or leave our home.”

Mateo turned his icy gaze to Giovanni. “She’s an excellent actress, you should be careful around her.”

Giovanni returned Mateo’s stare, wrapping his arm around Desi’s waist, and holding her close to his side. “You underestimate her. You always have. From the moment you decided to destroy this woman, you overlooked all the things that made her great.”

Mateo frowned and opened his mouth to respond, but Giovanni cut him off, his voice a low growl so the other guests wouldn’t hear. “We have both stained our hands with the blood of our enemies, perceived or otherwise. There are enough bodies littering your path to the Miami throne that you will have to watch your back for the rest of your hopefully long life. It’s the same with me, and many others I could name. If we were to all enact our vengeance, there would be no one left standing. Desi has apologized and I can attest to her sincerity. It’s time to leave the past behind us and look to the future.”

Desi held her breath, looking toward Giovanni as he spoke. His words were emphatic, punctuated with a strong Italian accent.

Mateo stared at him, then nodded. “Si, I am in agreement.”

Desi was shocked when he held a hand out to her. “Congratulations on your wedding, Signora Savino.”

Desi hesitated for only a moment, then slipped her hand into his, shaking it before pulling back. She realized she’d given him the hand he’d mutilated. Deciding she’d had enough, Desi turned away, leaving the two men to continue their conversation alone.

She made her way to Donada and Alina.

“How’re you holding up?” Donada asked, handing over the wineglass she was holding.

Desi took it gratefully and drained it. She set it on a nearby table and reached for Alina’s glass, draining that one as well.

“Help yourself,” Alina said dryly.

“I just spoke to the man who cut off my finger.” Her cheeks flushed as the words came out. She was angry, embarrassed, relieved. So many feelings crashing through her. She felt dizzy and nauseous, either from meeting Mateo again or from her gunshot wound.

“Dios mio,” Alina said with a low whistle. “That calls for more wine.”

She flagged down a passing server and told the man to bring a bottle of wine and then keep them coming. She handed him €100.

Desi was grateful.

“Let’s step outside for some fresh air,” Donada suggested, moving Desi toward the French doors.

They wandered down the path toward the vineyard. Desi took a deep breath, inhaling the earthy scent of ripening grapes. It helped ground her and calm her confused thoughts.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Donada asked softly as they strolled between the trellises.

Desi opened her mouth to refuse. She was a private person. She had to be. There was no one to talk to when she’d lived at the Garza compound. If she complained, she was beaten. If she tried to discuss her feelings with Nico, he laughed, then turned her away.

But things were different here. She had a husband who cared about her and two female friends who seemed interested in her life and well-being. She could open up and share. No one would hurt her or use her words against her. She hoped.

Quickly and succinctly, she explained her relationship to Mateo, not pulling any punches when she explained her part in the Miami debacle. She’d tried to kill an innocent woman, had been responsible for other deaths. Though she was trying to buck Nico’s programming, she was still the same woman deep down. She wanted these women to know exactly who she was if they were going to choose to remain friends.

“Wow,” Donada whispered, staring at Desi with new eyes. There was no accusation, though. Maybe a little admiration.

“Badass,” Alina said, nodding. “I mean, totally messed up, but badass.”

Desi laughed and shook her head. “I’m a product of my training. I was a weapon. Just point and shoot. In a way, losing my finger was a blessing. It reminded me that life should not be thrown away as easily as I tried.”

They reached the end of the path and turned in unison to walk back to the reception. In their path stood Raina, her eyes narrowed on Desi, her lips pursed and her hands on her hips. Desi’s heart sank and she prepared herself for a tough conversation.

“You tried to kill me,” Raina announced as she stared Desi down. “You lied to me, you blew up my freshly renovated home, and you attacked my mother and stepfather.”

Desi licked her lips and prepared to apologize again, this time to the woman who mattered, the one innocent involved in Desi’s quest for vengeance, but Raina continued speaking.

“I should hate you, and a part of me really, really does.” Her expression softened as her gaze fell down Desi’s body, stopping at her midriff. “But no matter how I feel about you, no woman deserves to walk down the aisle on her wedding day with a hole in her side and blood soaking her beautiful white gown. If you tell me my husband did that to you, I will personally make sure he pays.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

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