Nino’s face remained the beautiful, cold mask. “Did they ever ask how you were doing here? Did they worry that I might abuse and rape you? Did they talk to you at all at our wedding, or since then?”
I swallowed. I tried not to think of my old family. All the memories connected to them carried the weight of hurt and sadness. “They congratulated me.” I could only remember seeing them for a few seconds during the champagne reception when everyone had congratulated Nino and me on our marriage, but I didn’t remember much else of the day. I’d been too caught up in my terror. They hadn’t contacted me since, and it wasn’t because I was part of the Camorra either—we’d barely seen each other when I’d still been part of the Rizzo household. “Promise me you won’t hurt them. It should be my decision, not yours.”
Nino released a low breath and finally nodded. “I won’t hurt them.”
“Remo either. And no one else from the Camorra.”
A small smile tugged at Nino’s mouth. “All right.”
I crossed my arms on Nino’s chest, scanning his beautiful face. A few strands of his hair had fallen down his temple and I pushed them back gently then ran my fingertips over the undercut. “How do you feel? So much has happened in the last few days.”
“Remo can handle himself, and he’s not alone. Fabiano will make sure my brother keeps his emotions in check.”
“I didn’t mean Remo leaving. I meant your emotions. Are you getting used to them?”
“After the first flood, it’s calmed down. I feel emotions, not always, not all of them, but they are there.”
I kissed Nino softly. “I’m always here. If you need me, I’ll help you.”
Still, I hoped that Nino wouldn’t have another breakdown like that one night, especially now that Remo wasn’t home to calm him down. “When will Remo and Fabiano be back?” I didn’t ask for details because if Nino wanted to share he would, but so far he’d been rather closed-off.
He sighed. “Hopefully in a few days, depending on the success of their mission.”
Curiosity burst through me, but I pushed it down.
“Go up to our bedroom,” Nino said, startling me as I lay curled up on the sofa in the game room. It was three days after our conversation.
“What’s the matter?” I asked. His expression was tight, as close to anger as I’d ever seen it. I set down my book and stood, putting my hands up against Nino’s chest. “Is it about Remo?”
Remo and Fabiano had been gone for almost a week. Nino still hadn’t revealed the details of their mission, only that it had something to do with the Outfit.
Nino’s eyes held a hint of weariness. “I’ll explain later. Now I need you to go to our room, Kiara.”
I frowned, feeling like I was being treated like a child. “I’m not weak. I can handle most things.”
He touched my cheek and kissed me briefly. “I know. But this …” He shook his head. “I’m not sure if it’s something you should see.”
My chest constricted. There was only one thing I definitely had a hard time handling.
“Don’t ask,” Nino said. “Not now.”
I nodded reluctantly, grabbed my book and headed into our wing. Dread settled in my bones as I closed the bedroom door. What had Remo done?
The sound of a sports car pulling into the driveway caught my attention and I went to the window. I only saw a very small part of the front yard and couldn’t make out anything. Despite my promise to Nino, curiosity gripped me and I went back out, creeping to the main part of the house and peering through a window facing the driveway. I froze, my pulse throbbing furiously when I saw Remo walking into the house. He was carrying a blonde woman, and they were both completely naked. The woman hung limply in Remo’s grasp, either unconscious or in shock.
My throat tightened, my hands began to shake, and remnants of dark memories bit at my consciousness, wanting to burst forth and grip me.
That’s how Nino found me. Still motionless before the window. “Damn it,” he whispered. He took my wrist, his fingertips pressing into the soft flesh. His other hand tipped my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. “What did you see?”
“Remo carrying a naked woman,” I said tonelessly.
Nino shook his head. “Come,” he said, tugging me toward our wing. I resisted, needing answers.
“Nino, what’s going on?”
“I’ll explain in our bedroom.”
“No,” I hissed, ripping out of his hold, breathing harshly. “Explain now.”
Nino regarded me, his arm still raised, surprised by my vehemence. Slowly he lowered his hand. I usually always tried to comply, to follow his decisions, but with this I drew a line.
Nino had said it himself; he wouldn’t get angry if I stated my opinion.