Page 25 of Rosetti Family New York
She’s been trying this more and more. Pushing me. Testing how far I’ll let her run before I yank the chain. She’s playing a dangerous game. I can feel eyes on me. The family, waiting to see if I can keep her under control. My control. The sound of it all is like blood in my ears.
I shove open the library door, and the sight of Emilio sprawled on a chair, fingers flicking over his laptop, makes my vision go red.
He looks up, and those gray eyes cut right through me. "Problem?"
I nearly rip the door off its hinges. "Where is she, Emilio? If you're covering for her—"
"Relax," he says, soft and infuriating. "I’m not covering for anyone."
My fist lands on the wall next to his head, leaving a mark. "Get off your ass and help me find her."
He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t flinch. "Whatever you say, Leo."
I’m already moving. Dining room. Living room. The emptiness taunts me. She knows the rules. The deal. The punishment if she breaks them.
I crash into Matteo in the hallway. He's flipping a silver coin between his fingers, that lazy smirk on his face. "She leave you already, little brother?"
"Shut up," I snap. I want to smash that grin right off his face.
Matteo laughs, a sound that bites at me, and leans against the wall. "Maybe she decided redheads aren't her type."
"Where’s Dom?" I say, ignoring the jab. "Where’s Sal?"
His smirk widens. "Is it worth bothering the old man over? He isn’t here, anyway."
I’m not listening anymore. He could go fuck himself with that coin. She's testing my limits, and I don't know how long I can let her.
Domenico meets me in the entrance hall. Always neat. Always controlled. I want to break him in half when he stands in front of me, arms crossed. "Leo. Calm down."
"Don't tell me to calm down!" I’m in his face, rage and panic twisting together. "Find. My. Wife."
"You’re making a scene," Dom says, his voice cutting through mine like a razor. "And I don’t appreciate scenes."
I don't care. I don't care about any of it. I shove past him and head for the front door, cursing under my breath. I can't think. Not with the blood boiling through my veins.
The glass doors slam behind me as I storm outside. If she’s gone, if she's run, if she thinks I'll let her—she’s got another thing coming.
And then I see her.
My legs go weak.
She's on the lawn, by the garden. She’s not running. Just standing there like nothing’s wrong. Like I'm not going out of my fucking mind.
"Cara," I breathe, and I’m already moving towards her. Her eyes widen when she sees me, but she doesn’t flinch when I grab her shoulders.
I’m rough, and I don’t care. I have to make sure.
I run my hands over her arms, her sides, down to her hips. Checking. Feeling. Nothing but the curve of her, the heat. Making sure she’s not hurt. Her breath hitches when I cup her face, and I want to kiss her so bad it aches. I don’t.
We stand there, her eyes locked on mine, until I finally let go. I spin away and leave her there, and I know she’ll follow.
She catches up inside. "Leonardo," she says, soft and unsure.
I keep walking. Through the hall, past the brothers, their eyes like daggers. She’s behind me, quickening her steps to stay close. She doesn’t say anything else until we reach our room. I’m silent as I shut the door, as I turn to face her. I see the curiosity burning in those eyes, but mostly I see the fear. It fills me with something dark and hot.
"I didn’t know you were home," she finally says, the words quiet.
I laugh, short and harsh. "You should have been inside. You think any of this is a fucking joke?"
