Page 3 of Savage Kiss

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The eyes are something else. They shine with intelligence. I remember they were jade green.

“The last time I saw her, she looked a lot different. But, I guess, so did we.”

Bea waves in front of my face. “Earth to Leo. Who’s in the picture?”

“Don’t you recognize her?”

“Should I?”

“It’s Anna.”

“No shit, really? She’s changed.”

“You’re telling me. Last time I saw her, she was thrusting her tits at me in that bikini she always wore when she came out here to see you.”

“What’s it say under the picture?”

“Anna Caruso. Twenty-three. Paleontologist. Master of Arts, Harvard. Current location - Judith River, Montana. Final week of six month dig. Uncovering complete Gorgosaurus skeleton. Interests, paleontology, archaeology, Victorian theatre.”

“Anything else in there.”

“Just her blood type, medical records, sample social media postings. Usual stuff.” I tap the picture before shaking my head. “He wants me to make her life hell?”

“Should I book you a priest?”

“I’m not our father’s plaything, Bea. He doesn’t get to tell me what to do with my life. I’m happy here. Alone.”

“That’s the point. You won’t get to be here at all. You said it yourself, the will is airtight. You refuse to marry her, the Carusos will move in, take over, walk in these halls, sit in that chair. You can’t let it happen, Leo.”

“So you want me to marry her? You know I’d break her within hours. She’d be nothing but a wreck of a human being. You want that for your old friend?”

“But if you don’t do it, we lose everything and we get no justice at all.”

“So you’re on father’s side?”

“I just don’t want to be made homeless. Do you?”

I drain my glass and pour myself out another measure. “It was the anniversary yesterday,” I say after I’ve taken a sip.

“I know.”

“I dreamed about it again last night.”

“Me too.”

“Old bastard had to pick the anniversary to die, didn’t he?”

“He didn’t pick when to die, Leo. It just happened.”

“You believe that? He was the Don. Nothing ever just happened without his say so.”

“The crash did.”

“And look at the consequences.” I point to the photo above the fireplace. “Antonio, dead. Mom, dead. Me and you covered in burns and our father so raw with grief, he lost half his empire in a year.”

“He got it back and it’s yours now. If you marry Anna.”

“Every time I look at her, I’ll see the crash.”


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