For a few seconds, we stared at each other. I didn’t know the right answer to that. Would I be able to move on? Revenge wouldn’t bring my brother back, but it might make the pain of losing him a little less…I hoped.
“I’ll be fine.” I turned away from him and spotted Vico coming in with his entourage of cousins and nephews. There was one cousin in particular I didn’t like. Nicollo Fattore, oldest son of Uncle Roberto, my father’s youngest brother. Nicollo was the same age as Vico, which was probably why they always seemed to be glued together.
I’d always blamed Nicollo for Vico’s rebellious side. Nicollo was one of those friends who would help you pave your own damn path to Hell while he stood on the sideline to watch you burn.
When Vico spotted Tatum, he immediately walked toward her. There was no mistaking the malicious look in his eyes as he stared at her, the way he licked his lips like he was about to tear into a piece of meat. But that was what she was, right? A piece of meat showcased to stir everyone’s appetite.
“You’ve been staring at her the entire night.” Uncle Gino’s voice interrupted my thoughts.
“She’s been put on display for that reason”—I gave him a sideways glance—“to be stared at.”
“Sure.” He nodded. “But every other man here looks at her like she’s just a worthless slave they’d like to fuck…or kill. Yet you, you look at her like you see something no one else does.”
Observant motherfucker.
I downed my glass of scotch and stood from my chair. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Uncle. And feel free to go sample theworthless slavedisplayed for your amusement.” There was no hiding the sneer in my voice. I couldn’t help it. The old man was working on my last goddamn nerve, pressing all the wrong buttons. Like I said, Uncle Gino liked to assess from the outside looking in—and he saw exactly what I didn’t want to acknowledge myself, let alone have someone else see.
Grabbing myself a new drink, I sauntered over to Vico still standing only a few inches away from Tatum, saying something to her. All the guys around him were laughing and cursing, drinking and enjoying the fucking show. What they didn’t grasp was that Tatum wasn’t put on display for their goddamn amusement. It was part of her atonement, her family’s penance for killing my brother. Not a goddamn peep show.
“I cannot wait until my brother is done with you, when it’s finally my turn,” I heard Vico say to her. “He only plans to break you, but when it’s my turn, I will fucking shatter you…after I push my cock down your throat, using you like the slut you are.” He grabbed her breast in his hand and squeezed, causing her to groan and whimper.
“Vico.” I stepped up behind him, but he didn’t turn around. “Why don’t you go grab yourself a drink?”
“Thanks, brother, but I’m not thirsty right now.” He leaned closer to her. “Not for a drink, anyway.” His other hand moved up the inside of her thigh, and my blood immediately scorched my veins as I watched him touch her.
“Vico! I said go grab yourself a motherfucking drink.”
He turned to face me, and we glared at each other. It was the mighty stare-off between brothers, one trying to intimidate the other without saying a word.
From the corner of my eye, I saw his thumb stroke the skin of her thigh, and at that moment all I thought was if he moved that hand another inch, I would fucking break it.
“Fine.” He stepped away, taking his hands off her. Immediately, I felt my blood settle, the jealousy dissipating.Jealousy?What in the name of ever-loving fuck was that about? Why would it bother me when Vico touched her? She was hanging from the ceiling half naked, for God’s sake, so why could I not handle the sight of my brother’s hand on her body?
Vico straightened his gray suit jacket, a smug grin plastered on his face. “We still have an entire evening ahead of us. Still lots of time to sample the slut.”
His entourage of stupid fucks laughed as they started walking toward the bar behind me. Of course, Nicollo had to prove what a dick he was by bumping his shoulder against mine accidentally on purpose.
Nicollo might be family, but I couldn’t stand him.
Taking a deep breath, I glanced back and saw them all huddling around the bar. I was going to have to keep a closer eye on Vico. His need for power, to prove to everyone that even though he was the youngest Fattore man, he had the balls to be a badass, had the potential to ruin everything.
When I turned back around, Tatum’s head was hanging down, her eyes closed. There was a tiny drop of blood slowly easing down the side of her chin from where the rope had cut her at the corner of her mouth. She was exhausted, weak, and bordering on malnourished. But that was just too goddamn bad. The evening was far from done.
I stepped closer. “Tatum.”
No response.
I walked right up to her, taking her chin in my hand and lifting her face.
“Tatum?”
Her eyes opened as her head lolled from side to side. I gripped her chin tighter, forcing her to look at me.
“Don’t fall asleep on me now, little mouse. I need you fully aware for the next few hours.”
A waiter who stood a few feet away brought over a tray of champagne at the snap of my finger. Grabbing a glass, I yanked the rope out of her mouth and saw the rawness it had caused in the corners.
A soft moan echoed from the back of her throat as I brought the glass up to her mouth.