Vengeance.
It's something I've been taught as the son of a cruel mafia don; something I've comforted myself with for years.
When the one thing that kept me grounded is yanked away so ruthlessly, it's only in my nature to strike out in the only way...
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"Going somewhere today?" I asked Giselle.
She still refused to sit with me at the dining table, so she sat at the kitchen island. For someone who had a scheduled date today, she didn't look like she was in a hurry to be somewhere.
She stopped eating at my question. "Why? Am I suddenly allowed to?"
"Funny I don't recall ever saying you couldn't."
"Is that why there's been a change of guards after I went out with Aunt Adrienne? You've doubled the security."
"Because I don't trust you not to sneak out."
She snorted. "What am I? Twelve? Well, I might as well be, since I'm not allowed to leave the house."
"Do you have somewhere to be today?" I asked again.
"Why? You have some guests you'd like to bring to the house?" She asked, sliding off the stool. "This is your house, Nicholas. You're free to do as you please."
She grabbed her bowl of fruit, offering Sara a smile before walking out of the kitchen.
"I thought things have changed between you two," Sara said as she wiped down the countertops.
"Why would you think that?"
"She spent those three days you were away practicing the pasta recipe your aunt gave her. She even called me to ask for a few tips, and that was when she told me she was cooking for you."
"She did."
"Did you eat it? She sounded very eager to have you home when she called."
And like the pezzo di merda I was, I didn't eat any of it because I had been too drunk out of my mind.
"No, Sara, I didn't eat the food."
I didn't offer Sara any additional information before I also made my way out of the kitchen, thinking of a way to make things right.
***
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"You don't have a lot of clothes," Nicholas said, tucking the tails of his dark satin shirt into his pants.
I raised a brow at him. What was up with him, and trying to make small talk?
