Page 96 of Bitter Poetry
Hopefully we’re going where some dipshit might try to talk to them. I’m in just the mood for fucking someone up.
I’m pretty sure Dante’s on to me and what I’ve been doing with Carmela. What I don’t know is how he feels about it.Yet. Maybe he’s still got his doubts. I don’t fucking know. I only know that she’s addictive, and I can’t keep my hands off her.
I lied when I told him I hated her. There was a time when that was true. But now I’m obsessed with her and her pussy, and I’m prepared to take stupid risks for a piece of that. I need to be smarter than this.
Not a fucking chance. It’s like a big wrecking ball comes through my best intentions whenever I’m near her.
I push through the backdoor to find it empty except for Brigida, who is measuring out ingredients on the counter. “Where’s her ladyship?”
Brigida gives me a flat look.
My brows pull together. “Is she alright?”
“I took her coffee up a little while ago when she didn’t come down. She said she has a headache and would leave later.”
“She didn’t tell me.” My brows pinch together as I reach into my pocket to check my cell. Nothing. I tuck it back away. “Did Ettore hurt her again?”
She sighs heavily and puts down her measuring spoon. “Not that I know of. No more than in the usual ways being married to him does. He didn’t come home last night. Stayed at Bosco’s club and has not returned. But she went out for lunch with Helena yesterday, so I expect that was a trial, what with her upcoming wedding to Dante.”
I rub absently at the center of my chest. I still can’t shake off the strange, sickly feeling roiling in my gut. Carmela really is clueless about the power she has over me. If she asked me to slit Ettore’s throat in his sleep, I know I would. If Ettore’s men didn’t kill me for it, Dante probably would for fucking up his plans.
Only his plans are taking too long, and the image of Ettore bleeding out slowly is fucking compelling.
“Anyone else home?”
She shakes her head slowly. “Christian...”
“What?”
She goes back to measuring ingredients.
“Go ahead. Spit it out.”
“You’re taking risks.” She doesn’t look at me. “Both of you are. I don’t care about you.” She looks up in time to see me raise my brows. “But I do care about her.”
I grin.
She rolls her fucking eyes. “You know there’s something wrong with you, don’t you?”
“So I’ve been told many times.”
“Don’t hurt her, Christian. What is this? A game to you?”
“Brigida, you’re hurting my feelings.” I go for flippant, but it’s not sitting right today.
“You don’t have any feelings, Christian.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
“Alright then, you have strange feelings.”
I can’t argue with that, so I don’t try. “So… nobody else is in the house, yeah?” I press.
There’s a long delay before she shakes her head.
“I’m just going to go up and check on her.”
“She’s fragile. Her heart is an open wound now that your brother is marrying Helena.” She doesn’t bother to mask her disdain. “Especially Helena.”
