Page 65 of The Red Queen

Tears blinded her as she rushed away from the office. Unable to see properly, she slammed into Vitto, who’d been standing a respectful distance down the hall. He gripped her arms and looked down at her with concern.

“Everything all right, Signora?”

“Get out of my way,” she snapped, pushing past him and rushing for the doors.

“Wait,” he called after her.

She kept going, running blindly through the yard, then veering towards the vineyard, where she could lose herself. She passed row after row of vines, ignoring Vitto’s calls for her to slow down before she hurt herself.

“Stupid!” she muttered to herself as she ran.

Her heel caught on something, and she plummeted to the ground, scraping her arm. Fire seared through her. She sat among the vines, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

Vitto caught up to her, panting. “Signora Savino, are you hurt?” He crouched in front of her.

The instinct to hit him rushed through her. She wanted to hurt someone else as badly as she was now hurting inside. She didn’t know how to deal with the emotions, the betrayal, the humiliation, and pain. These feelings were new to her. She’d never allowed herself to be so vulnerable before Giovanni. And now… now… she was a fool.

Giovanni hadn’t brought her to Italy to become his queen; he wanted a baby maker. And she had been too stupid to work it out for herself. The more she thought about it, the more shame crept through her. She should have known, should have realized. Why was she always so stupid with these brutal mafia men?

“Go away,” she said hoarsely, turning her face so Vitto wouldn’t see the hot tears streaking down her cheeks.

“Desi…” his voice softened as he said her name.

“Please,” she choked. “I want to be alone.”

He stood and walked several feet away, then stood with his back to her. She supposed it was the best she was going to get.

She couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t trust anyone associated with Giovanni. It felt like some big ruse – Matteo wishing her well, Raina forgiving her. What a fucking joke and the worst part was that she was the punchline.

As she sat on the rapidly cooling ground, the moonlight shining a path over her head and the twinkling lights strung throughout the vineyard lighting whimsical paths, Desi fought with herself. She fought the voice in her head telling her she was worthless, that no matter how much she tried to change, she would always be the beast Nico shaped her into. Giovanni had recognized her savagery and was determined to use it for his own purposes. She would provide children for him to replace the one that he had. The weak and useless Antonio.

She was so stupid. She should have known Giovanni hadn’t brought her here because he loved her. How could he? She was a bloodthirsty murderer. She was antithetical to everything his lovely first wife would have been. He’d loved Antonia and had deliberately chosen her opposite as his second wife so he wouldn’t desecrate his vows to his wife.

How could he possibly love someone like Desi?

How could she let him make her believe it was possible?

Her mind was a whirling rush of confusion, but her anger at Giovanni was the one clear thing she felt. He had tricked her into believing this ideal life was possible. He’s dangled a safe and loving relationship in front of her and now he was yanking it away, replacing it with murky deception. She hated him almost as much as she… no, she didn’t love him. She couldn’t.

Slowly she stood, using the trellis next to her as leverage. Her side twinged in pain and her head spun, telling her she’d drunk too much wine and would soon feel the nasty side effects.

She made her way to Vitto’s side, whispering, “I’m ready to go back.”

He nodded and walked with her, remaining at her side. To her relief, he didn’t touch her, but walked at her pace, his gaze on the path in front of them.

Desi hadn’t realized how far into the vineyard she’d run. It took them fifteen minutes to make their way back to the party. She cringed at the harsh sounds of laughter and music spilling from the house. Halting in her tracks, she stared miserably up at the garden patio. She was too much of a mess to cut a path through the guests to reach the privacy of her bedroom.

“This way,” Vitto said softly from beside her.

Again, he didn’t touch her, but gestured to the left side of the house. He led the way around and, to Desi’s relief, showed her through a door that led into the garage. Once in the garage, he opened another door that entered the mansion foyer at the bottom of the wide double staircase. Though she’d explored the house, there were many facets she hadn’t yet seen. She was grateful to Vitto for knowing she needed a clear path away from the guests.

They walked silently up the stairs. Desi was so lost in thought that at first, she didn’t notice Vitto was leading her away from her bedroom. Not until she was standing in a room she’d never seen, furnished with heavy masculine furniture and dark curtains. Like her room, French doors led onto the balcony. The doors were standing open, and the aroma of a cigar was wafting in.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Desi turned away, immediately understanding that she’d been led to Giovanni’s room like a lamb to slaughter.

Vitto stood in the doorway, blocking her.

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