The Vatican - M.E. Clayton Page 0,14

spend the rest of her life miserable, making me miserable as well.”

He didn’t argue with any of it, but I suspected it was because he knew I wasn’t in a place to listen. Instead, he said, “You need to tell her first thing tomorrow.”

My entire body was vibrating with unspent anger. “And the guy?” I did my best to focus on what I could control. Saveria’s emotions couldn’t be controlled. Hell, no woman’s emotions could be controlled.

“Phoenix already sent Sal his information for a complete background check.”

Now I was getting pissed for another reason. “How in the fuck did he make it into her apartment without a background?”

“Mica did a preliminary, then another one the first time he’d visited.”

My blood felt like it was frozen inside my body. “He’s been over more than once?” I asked, my voice low and controlled.

Dad nodded. “Once before tonight,” he confirmed.

It took everything I had not to storm over to her building and lose my shit on her, but I knew I wasn’t in the right head space to go over there.

We’d kill each other.

I looked at my dad. “I’ll go over first thing tomorrow.” He nodded. “And when she storms the castle, remember your promise.”

“Of course,” he replied coolly.

Fuck.

Chapter 7

Saveria~

Last night sucked.

After my dad left, I put the pizza away, and walked down to Mattia’s apartment. I told her everything and guilt was heavy when I came back to my apartment. Not sure if it was because she was the oldest girl, but her lecture-game was spot on.

She ignored my defense and pointed out that I knew better. I knew better than to bring someone I hardly knew to a Benetti building. Mattia told me that, while I might not be spoiled like Cira, I had been being selfish with the stunt I pulled. I tossed and turned all night, knowing I owed Dad and everyone else an apology.

It felt worse when I acknowledged that I hadn’t even broken the rules for someone I really liked. Yeah, Geno was a great guy, and I was hoping we could develop into something more, but it was mostly because he seemed compatible. Not because I had this burning desire to tear his clothes off whenever I saw him. Geno’s attraction stemmed from finally being ready to come home to someone at the end of the day. I wanted that, and I was hoping Geno would be a good candidate.

Did I wish I could have a love like my parents? Sure. Who didn’t? But my parents have been in love with each other since they were in daycare, for Christ’s sake. That’s not shit you found just around any corner. Even with as much as Uncle Ciro loved Aunt Robbie, and Uncle Luca loved Aunt Remy, no one could deny that my parents’ love story was, hands-down, the thing of fairy tales.

After I ate breakfast, I jumped in the shower, knowing I was going to have to go apologize to Dad. It sucked, but, if there was anything Uncle Luca has taught me, it’s that you apologize and admit your transgressions face-to-face. Only a coward apologized behind the phone. If you wronged someone enough that they deserved your apology, then they deserved it in person.

I’d just finished blow-drying my hair when there was a knock on my front door. Thinking it was Mattia here to make sure I was going to grovel properly, I went to answer the door in just the oversized t-shirt I had thrown on while I did my hair and makeup. When I checked the peephole, though, it wasn’t Mattia.

It was Francisco.

“Open up, Fiore,” he said.

I knew I should probably go throw on some pants, but it was Francisco. My attire wouldn’t faze him at all. I swung the door open, and my eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here, Benetti?”

His eyes ran down the length of my body, and I had to keep from shivering. When his black gaze traveled back up to my face, he asked, “Do you always answer the door like that?”

I cocked my head. “I was getting ready,” I replied tartly. “I’m on my way to Dad’s.” He jerked his head for me to get out of the way. I did and shut the door once he was inside.

“What are you doing here?” I asked again once he turned around to face me again.

“Geno Rivera,” he said, and the air left my lungs.

Goddamn it, Dad!

I slapped my hands on my hips. “Are you serious?” I cried. “Did