“Tino.” Ettore growled the warning.
And Tino just shrugged. “What? I’m just asking.”
Groomsman two smiled, then chuckled and then he was laughing out loud, doubling over and clutching his gut.
Ettore was not impressed and asked the man, “Something funny about this, Sandro?”
Sandro, obviously not knowing what was good for him, simply nodded and kept laughing. He looked between us, chuckling, “Now that’s a wedding.”
Ettore glared at the man. I chanced a glance up at the third man in the room only to find his blank stare on me, but fire danced in his eyes. Shivers trailed the length of my spine and my stomach ached painfully.
Tino called him over. “Daniele, come hold this closed.”
The best man moved, surveilling me the entire way over, and when he reached my husband, he paused in front of him and asked, “You need something to bite on?”
Ettore clicked his tongue and shook his head in annoyance. “Just do it already.”
My curiosity had me observing from the opposite side of the room.
Sandro took some gauze and coated it with iodine. “This is gonna sting like a bitch.”
“It already stings like a bitch. Do it,” Ettore ordered, his jaw clenched.
My husband hissed as Tino cleaned the wound. As if he’d felt me watching, he lifted his heated gaze to mine. Our eyes locked and as Tino instructed Daniele to pinch the wound closed, he placed something metal against it and muttered a distracted, “Brace,” then began to staple the wound. Ettore’s expression screwed up and he bared his straight white teeth with every click of the device. Still, he kept his eyes on me, and I couldn’t look away.
A fresh bandage was applied and when my husband moved to put his bloodstained shirt back on, Sandro stopped him. “What are you doing? Take my shirt, Tor.”
But Ettore simply shrugged back into the red soaked shirt, buttoning it slowly, eyeballing me. “No.” And just when the other groomsmen began to argue, he lifted a hand and there was silence. “Now, if you’ll excuse us. I need to have a word with my blushing bride.”
Oh no.
The way his voice grated said this was not going to be where he asked me if I preferred chicken or fish.
The men filed out and all I could do was watch.
Please don’t leave me alone with him.
Just before Tino closed the door, he shot me a quick glance and muttered a hushed, “Good luck.”
The silence stretched for a while until he retrieved his suit jacket and leisurely walked it over to me. He held it out. “Please.”
It was a trap. I could smell it a mile away, and yet, after a long moment, I took it from him. He turned. I held it open as he carefully worked his injured arm in first.
“There are some women who would applaud you for what you just did. Some would even say you were justified in your… extreme reaction.” The other arm slid into the awaiting hole. “I will only say one thing.” He spun so quickly that I didn’t know what hit me. My head thumped against the wall as his hand curled around my throat, choking me. And then, he got in my face and spoke caustically through gritted teeth, “Next time you shoot me, you’d better make sure you kill me because I will not stop until your dead, rotting corpse is buried under a pile of manure in my yard.” I gasped for breath, lifting my hands and weakly fighting, scratching at his arm. But Ettore Scala would not be moved. “I can make you disappear. Nobody will ever find you. Do you hear me?” Eyes wide, gasping for air, all I could do was nod. His eyes narrowed on me. “Are you scared?” I managed another nod, but my vision began to grey. “Of course, you are. That’s good. That is very good. You should be.”
He searched my reddened face a moment longer then, suddenly, I fell to the floor in a heap. I inhaled so hard that my throat itched and scratched and then I was both gasping and coughing, stopping only to gag. Saliva dribbled down my chin. The bridge of my nose began to tingle and my eyes watered. I whimpered, terrified.
Ettore, however, made his way back to the mirror. He straightened his jacket, then adjusted his cufflinks, peering emotionlessly at me through the reflective glass. “Now,” he began. “They’re expecting us.” His features darkened in time with his eyes. “I’m going to give you a moment. You’re going to get yourself cleaned up and you are going come out wearing a smile or, so help me God, I will carve one into your fucking face. Do you understand me?”
I lifted my hand to my burning throat, panting. My nod was weaker this time.
“Good,” he uttered without feeling. He attempted to lift his shoulder, but ended up wincing once more before posing, “I hope you achieved what you meant to, Vittoria.” He went to leave and my frightened eyes followed him all the way up to the door, where he paused, looked me up and down in disgust, then uttered a quietly stony, “My children were in that room.”
The cold fury that lined his voice…
I didn’t think I could feel worse than I did, but then he said that, and I was gutted all over again.
Alone, I curled up on the floor, hugging my knees to my chest. I don’t know how long passed before the door opened and Vincenza slunk into the room, casually, as if nothing happened.