I Thee Take (To Have And To Hold Duet #2) - Natasha Knight Page 0,46
up the stairs. It’s the right thing to do. I know it. But I also realize, in a way, by saying out loud that I would be there in two days’ time meant that it was a possibility I would not. And that this, tonight, was very possibly goodbye forever.
My mind is preoccupied as I reach the top of the stairs and turn the corner toward Cristiano’s bedroom. I don’t know where else to go when he’s not here, in the house. I’m an imposter without him to validate my presence. I don’t realize in time that the door is ajar or maybe I just don’t remember having left it that way. But when I walk inside, I stop dead because the room is not empty.
And it’s not Cristiano standing there.
It’s Dante.
And he has the gun Cristiano gave me pointed right at me.
24
Cristiano
Blood. Me on the cold, white marble floor. No. Not cold. But dark. Slippery like that night. Slipping in my own blood.
Someone calls my name but it’s an echo.
“David sends his regards.”
My uncle did this. My uncle slaughtered my family. Our family.
“Your wife is a dirty whore.”
Not a virgin.
“Your wife is a dirty whore. I may never have fucked her but let me tell you something. After seeing her take her Uncle Jacob’s filthy dick, I really couldn’t get it up for her anymore. That’s some nasty shit.”
No, not a virgin.
I punished her for it.
She paid for it.
“It won’t hurt as much.”
It was her uncle who’d hurt her. What had my father said?
“You’re blood. Never forget that blood matters, boys.”
Blood massacred my family.
Blood massacred hers. Blood violated her.
Our blood is corrupted.
Commotion around me. I open my eyes and see Marcus Rinaldi’s face. His eyes are open, too. Looking at me. But they’re empty. Dead. The knife still sticking out the side of his neck.
I reach for it. I want to dig it deeper. I need to. I want to sever his head from his body.
But as the room fades again, I realize I have what I wanted. The voices become echoes in the background. I have exactly what I asked for.
I know what Marcus said to my mother that horrified her.
I know that he’s dead by my hand.
There wasn’t anything else. I never planned for anything after this. I can let go. I can leave it. Leave the betrayal. Leave the constant pain of life.
Just go.
But then there’s Scarlett.
25
Scarlett
“Where were you?” Dante asks. “And where’s your piece of shit brother?”
A soldier appears at the door. “Not up here,” he says.
“Find the fucker.”
“What’s going on?” I ask.
He uncocks the gun and shifts his grip to look at it.
I exhale, touch my hand to my pocket, grateful my passport wasn’t under the pillow. I look around to find Cerberus is gone.
“What’s going on?” I ask again, wondering if he can hear the panic in my voice. “Where’s Cristiano?”
He opens the chamber of the pistol and drops the bullets into the palm of his hand, pocketing them and tucking the gun into the back of his jeans before turning back to me. He studies me for a long minute, and it takes all I have to not back away when he closes the space between us.
“Where did you get the gun?”
“Cristiano gave it to me. Give it back.”
He snorts. “Right.” With the flat of his hand against my belly nudges me to the wall. “You’re a liar, Scarlett De La Cruz. Just like the rest of your family.” He stands just inches from me and I stare up into eyes just a few shades darker than Cristiano’s. My heart is racing but I need to keep my face impassive, unreadable.
“I doubt your brother would like to hear how you put your hands on me.”
His expression changes, something sad passing through his eyes before they harden again.
“Cristiano should have killed you on day one.”
“Where is he?” I ask.
The pressure of his hand on my belly intensifies.
“Don’t act innocent. That may have worked on my brother, but it won’t work on me,” he says, his jaw tight. He’s stronger than me. And he wants to hurt me. I see it and I need to be careful with him. He shifts his grip to my arms squeezing hard enough that I know there will be bruises. “Where is your brother, Scarlett?” he spits my name.
“You’re hurting me.”
“Am I?” He spins me around, grips a handful of my hair and tugs it back so tightly I let out a cry. “How’s this then? Better?”