16. Cristiano

C ristiano

"We've found the guy. He's not a Marchesi, but he was paid by one, and we know where he's hiding."

I feign interest in Sav's update, keeping one eye on the bathroom door. I've had to take the call in the kitchen so the sound of falling water won't trigger any questions. Not that it would. When Sav is on a mission, he's single-minded. He can only entertain violence. Dramatic, bloody, all-consuming violence. The sound of a shower in the background that potentially holds his future wife is an unnecessary distraction as far as he's concerned.

Sometimes I wonder if we're from the same parents, if not the same planet.

I stare at the door, half-listening to my brother. From here I can only see the doorframe, but that's for the best.

I stared at her for too long.

I shouldn't have stared at all.

She's about to become family.

A lead weight settles in my stomach. She'll share his bed; bear his children.

My grip tightens around the phone until I'm sure it would only take one more squeeze for me to crush it into small pieces.

"What happened to the Castellano girl?" he asks, rather late in the day.

I settle back against the island. "She's safe. I've got her."

"Are you at the house?"

"No. My apartment in the city. She can't stay at her father's."

"No. You're right. They'll want her, and his place is wide-open. Okay, good. Keep her there. I'll collect her when I return."

"And take her where?" It shouldn't matter to me where he takes her, but it does.

"She can stay at the house," he says with an undertone of boredom. "She's going to be living there after the wedding—she may as well start getting used to it."

I rub the ache from my jaw. At some point during our conversation, it's tightened.

"When do you think you'll be back?"

"Couple of days. I'm sorry to burden you with this, fratello . Especially when this is only a short visit."

"I'm fine," I say tightly. "It's not a burden."

"Okay, listen. Call her aunt—what's her name ...?"

My brows knit. "Allegra."

"Yeah, her. Invite her over, or one of her trillion sisters, so you don't have to engage in too much small talk."

I almost laugh down the phone. Small talk is the least of my problems.

"Don't worry about me. Or her. You just focus on finding that son of a bitch."

I can hear the relief in his voice now he's off the hook from domestic responsibilities, and I wonder how he's going to manage once he actually has a wife.

"I will. I'll call when it's done."

There's a click on the other end of the line, and I slowly lower the phone, my gaze floating like a feather to the woman standing in front of me. She's wrapped in a large towel, but her shoulders peek over the top, still carrying droplets of water, and her hair hangs in wet ringlets around her face. Her cheeks are pink from the steam, but her eyes are wide.

"Was that Savero?"

I nod and slide the phone into my back pocket.

"Is he okay?" she asks in a whisper.

Something inside me burns. "Yes, he's good. You're staying here until he returns."

She swallows. "How long will that be?"

"Couple of days."

Something fearful flashes across her face. "Why can't I go home?"

"We've discussed this. You're not safe there."

"We didn't ‘discuss' it—you told me and assumed I agreed."

"You're staying here. End of story."

She blinks rapidly, as if it's finally dawned on her what this engagement actually means: her life will never be the same again.

"I have a gown fitting tomorrow," she says, staring at the wall behind me.

"I'll take you."

She looks back at me sharply. " You are going to take me to a bridal gown fitting?"

I shrug. "Sure."

"I don't think that's appropriate."

"Why wouldn't it be?" My eyes narrow in a challenge. "I'm going to be your brother soon enough. This is a brotherly thing to do."

Her lips part, and her neck flushes pink. I know what she's thinking. A brother wouldn't confess to wanting to kiss her. A brother wouldn't blatantly stare at her while she showered.

Her shoulders deflate. "I was going to go with Allegra."

"Well, now you're going with me." I ignore Sav's recommendation to invite her entire family over to save me the inconvenience of actually speaking to her. I've already made the decision that while she's under my protection, I'm keeping her to myself.

"Are you hungry?"

She hugs the towel around herself and chews her lip while she thinks. Then she shakes her head.

"You haven't eaten a thing all day."

"I'm not hungry."

It's becoming increasingly difficult to see her standing in front me with nothing but a towel separating the heat of her skin from mine. I turn my back to her and walk to the refrigerator.

"I'm making you dinner. Go get dressed."

"I don't have any fresh clothes."

I take out tomatoes and place them on the island, along with olives and some garlic. She watches me warily.

"Fetch a shirt and some shorts from the master. I'll have more clothes for you by the morning."

"You don't know my size."

I coast my gaze over her. "I can hazard a guess."

She swallows and clutches the towel even tighter.

I jerk my head toward the master bedroom. "Go."

One of her brows arches, and I can see the old Castellano emerging. "You're going to let me rummage around in your room?"

I lift a sharp chef's knife from the drawer and turn it in my fingers. "I have nothing to hide."

Her eyes sparkle. "Great. I may be a while." She spins on the balls of her feet, sending droplets of water flying in every direction.

When she's out of my sight, I rest my hands on the island, stretch out my arms, and let my head fall. I've never envied my brother. I've never wanted what he's inherited as the firstborn son. But she's the one thing he has that I want—that I crave .

Savero has never been the most amenable brother, but now I know he has something he doesn't deserve, I'm finding it even harder to like him.

I shake the thought from my head, take a few long breaths, and then straighten and get to work.