brothers file out of the room. Cillian's cold, hard gaze follows me as I pace the room. I don't know what his fucking problem is now, but he's getting on my last nerve. He wants to be a rebel, fine, but he doesn't have to disrespect father every step of the way. I glare at him in return, and he's the last to leave the room, slamming the door on his way out and making father shake his head in disapproval.
"That boy refuses to be a part of this family," father mutters under his breath before turning his attention back to me. "We need to talk about this upcoming masquerade party. I know you're eager to strike by then, but I think it's too soon."
I fist my hands again, snarling my answer. "You know as well as I do once that marriage is announced, there's no way they'll go back on their word. Vitto will marry her and she'll never be free again."
"Maybe it's for the best," father shrugs carelessly, making my blood boil in my veins. "You need to forget about that De Luca girl, Adrian. It's been years since you've seen her. A decade."
It's been longer than a decade, but I don't correct him even though everything inside me is screaming, telling me to fight him on this.
"I'm not waiting for them to get married," I hiss. "What's the point of enacting revenge on them if I don't get Marzia?"
"Why is it so hard for you to be patient?" father grunts. "This rush you're in means you're not careful. It will not end well if we seek revenge now. We need time to gather our resources. I am not starting a war with both the Donatis and the De Lucas."
"Maybe you should," I mutter.
"What's that?" Father's voice is thunderous, demanding an answer, but I'm not afraid of him - I never was.
"I said, maybe you fucking should, father," I hiss again. "Those families are insolent and need to admit who the new capo in town is."
"You're getting ahead of yourself, Adrian. We aren't-" Another coughing fit takes over and he covers his mouth with the handkerchief again. This time, the blood blooms on the white cotton and he's unable to hide it from my view. As he pockets the handkerchief, I glare at him.
"Are you hiding something from us, father?"
"What, the coughing?" He waves his hand dismissively. "It's nothing. Non ti preoccupare, don't worry about it."
It's not nothing, but for the time being, I take his word for it. We need to focus on Marzia and Vitto. If father wants to keep his secret, whatever it is, a while longer, so be it.
"Like I said," he goes on. "We will wait until after the wedding to go forth with our plan."
"After the wedding?" I rub my temples. "You can't be serious. He'll get his hands on her by then. He'll fuck her. She might even be goddamn pregnant by-"
"Language," father roars, glaring at me. "How many fucking times do I have to remind you?"
I don't apologize. I just glare at him, eyes burning with anger. "There are more important things at stake here than a stupid curseword."
"There is nothing more important than respecting your God." Father waves his hand dismissively. "This conversation is over. Go fuck a girl, get your mind off Marzia De Luca. She's old news. You don't bring this up with me again. Not until I tell you we're ready."
"But father, I-"
"I said we're done." His voice is calm and leaves no room for argument. I'm pissed off, but I don't argue with him. I'm not as rebellious as Cillian and my father's respect still means something to me. Instead, my lips form a thin line and I walk out of father's office, fighting the urge to slam the door behind me as I leave.
Santino calls out to me as I leave the office, but I ignore him, walking straight past him. He knows better than to bother me when I'm in this mood, and I storm straight up to my quarters where I find the golden chain with the wedding band under my pillow.
I held onto it for eleven years. Eleven years, the memory of the bambina in the red-and-white polka dot dress followed me, reminding me Marzia De Luca was supposed to be mine. Eleven years of holding that chain, thinking about what she must look like now. She's eighteen years old now - fair game as far as I'm concerned.
I don't agree