Adrik
When I claimed her, that was it. I made her mine and betrayed her. She longed for a story that wasn't mine to narrate, so I did the only thing a man like me would-I sent her back. Little did I know the secret she was keeping. The worst of all...
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The intricate columns that formed arches captivated me as we walked down a hallway with parquetry square floors and hardwood flooring. Wrought iron sconces held lit candles on the walls and chandeliers of the same kind on the ceilings.
"Did you choose the house?" I asked Greta as we descended the curved staircase with more camel walls, glass windows and sconces.
"Alessandro did, but I wanted the bedrooms refurbished. He let me design them."
"I could tell because of the Renaissance theme. The bedroom's nice," We walked through an archway and down the hall.
"I chose this one for you. I know you love the colours and a view of nature," I grinned.
"Wait. When did Alessandro buy the house?"
"One month ago. With all the trouble with the shooter. It's also easier for his work." Whose side was I on? Because I could not open my mouth and tell Greta who pulled that trigger on the day. I also felt like she deserved to know. It hadn't been more than a day yet, and I doubted ever seeing that man again. I wanted to know why he sent me back.
"It's magnificent. At least I don't have to stare at a wall for hours." I smiled genuinely.
"How about we have a sleepover for two nights before you return to Sicily?" I turned to face her.
"I would love the former, but I'm not returning to Sicily, Greta." Greta's eyes widened. "Throw me out if you see fit."
"What? But why?"
"Now's not the time." She nodded, and we turned right.
This house was great. I could hear murmurs and glasses before they stopped on our arrival. You're a strong woman who can bring a man like me down on his knees. I kept my chin up and eyed every single man in the room. Two months ago, I would have lowered my eyes and found interest in my shoes. No one in this room had power over me.
I first caught my Uncle Marcello's gaze and gave a respectful nod. He smiled wanly and drank from his glass.
Then I met Alessandro and his father's eyes before watching Giuseppe and Samuele. Lastly, I met Edoardo's gaze, and I don't know where the courage came from, but I smirked mischievously before curling my lips in disgust at the Asino I used to call a brother.
Raffaele refused to meet my gaze, but it was the hatred eating at his flesh. That boy had pride for days, but then again, as I watched him closely, his left hand was on the table and the other below it. What was Greta speaking about a monster?
"Giulia," Giuseppe stood up with his champagne flute. "We're happy to have you back." I looked at the man without a smile and a burning need to turn around and walk away.
Greta held my arm around the elbow and stepped forward. "I'm sure she appreciates the welcome dinner, Signore Giuseppe, but my cousin need not speak at the moment before it triggers something."
