Before she left the bedroom, she sat in front of the vanity with an expression of unease. She exhaled slowly, gathering her long, silky hair at the top of her head and tying it into a high ponytail. A glance at her reflection had her clutching her stomach and wincing. I watched her battle her nerves. She slid on an oversized pair of sunglasses before standing once more, holding onto a towel and there was no mistaking how anxious she was – her heavy breathing gave it away – as she slipped into a pair of golden flip-flops. On her way out, she grabbed a towel and as I switched cameras to follow her down, I was impressed by how quickly she lifted her chin and pasted on a completely feigned look of arrogance.
“Be Vincenza,” she muttered to herself as she approached the back door. “Be Vincenza. Be Vincenza. You’re Vincenza.” She put her hand to the door knob. “Go.” Then threw it open, glaring at one of my biggest boys and most loyal men, Marco, then announced haughtily, “I’m going for a swim.”
Marco blinked down at her. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
My brows rose when she uttered smugly, “It’s not your job to think now, is it? Get out of my way. I’m going for a swim.”
“Listen here-” Marco began but she cut him off with a cold sounding, “No, you listen. Do you know who I am? Do you know why you’re here? I’m sure word has spread by now what I did to my husband on our wedding day.” Her expression was eerily still as she announced steadily, “I shot him. Point blank. In a church full of our loved ones.” Her eyes narrowed on my lifelong friend. “Ettore means something to me. You don’t. Now, what do you think I’ll do to you?” A single brow rose as she asked, “Do you really want to fuck with me?”
There was a moment evenIwas taken aback. Would you listen to this cocky bitch?
Why did I find this little act hot?
It was a stare-off, long and painful. When it became crystal clear that Vittoria was not going to back down, Marco’s jaw flexed, he put a finger to his earpiece and hit the button, awaiting instructions, continuously glaring at her.
The alert came through. I hit the button on the app and spoke into my phone, loud and clear. “Let her go, but keep a close eye on her.”
Marco lowered his finger from his earpiece and forced a smile that did not reach his eyes. “Enjoy your swim, Mrs. Scala.”
With her head held high, Vittoria walked on through as Marco followed close behind. She placed her things down on a reclining outdoor chair, approached the edge of the pool and did not hesitate when she dove in. She spent half an hour doing laps of the length of the pool with Marco's eagle eye on her and when she was done, she stepped out, huffing and puffing, then sat on the chair and dried off before gathering her things and turning back to the house.
Again, Marco tailed the small woman until she was safely inside.
The moment she walked into the house, the jig was up. Her confident demeanor fell and her body crumpled with it. She leaned back against the door, put a shaking hand to her chest, breathing heavily with a look of disbelief etched onto her face. And then, a bubble of laughter climbed her throat. She closed her eyes and laughed softly, saying, “Oh my God. Oh myGod.” Her laughter continued. “I can’t believe that worked.”
It was the first time I heard it and I couldn’t help but notice what pretty laughter she had.
A small smile stretched at my mouth.Ah, Jesus. I felt like an idiot. Why was I smiling?
Because my wife is fucking adorable.
She was. She really was. I couldn’t wait to see what she got up to tomorrow.
On day twenty-three, it started. She costumed up, marched downstairs and threw open the front door. When Ivan turned to face her, she looked him dead in the eye and demanded, “You’re going to pass a message on for me. I want to speak to my husband.” Before he had a chance to respond, the door slammed shut in his face and then I watched as Vittoria’s expression turned restless.
Day twenty-four, twenty-five and twenty-six were very much the same, only her demand to speak to me grew more irate every time she made it.
By day twenty-seven, her spirit broke. This time, as she barked the order to speak to me, I didn’t miss the way her lips trembled. When she slammed the door shut and slid down the length of it, her bottom hit the floor and she burst into quiet sobs. My chest ached when she placed her forehead onto her upturned knees, fisted her hands and smacked herself weakly across the head, over and over again.
And regardless of what people thought, I hadn’t always been an asshole. That part of me was still somewhere in there. The deep dig to find it was usually rather hard. But not with Vittoria. Her sorrow cried out to what was left of my blackened soul.
The internal war raged on. My initial desire to see her pay for her crimes was sorely outweighed by the need to guard and protect her.
As I watched her body shrink in on itself, my fingers twitched around my phone.
So, she wanted to talk.
I clicked out of the surveillance app, placed my phone screen side down and leaned back in my desk chair, considerate.
Her tears were not enough to sway me.
That would be a conversation she would have to earn.
Chapter13
We bleed together
Vittoria