Amadeo
I watch my brother stalk out.
“Fuck.”
Vittoria is watching me, and I wonder how much she heard. How much of it is fucking true. Do I have feelings for this woman?
I push a hand into my hair. “Emma asleep?” I ask. It comes out a bark.
She nods. “Hyacinth too. They’re exhausted.”
“Hm.” My mind isn’t on the little girl or her nanny. It’s on my brother. He just needs to cool down, I tell myself. Bruno is expecting me at the Naples office in less than an hour. I’m sure he’ll be back by the time I am, and we can talk it through then.
I look at Vittoria, who will not like what I have to tell her. Bastian should be here for it, but he knows what needs to happen, given his supposed commitment to our goal and my lack thereof which is bullshit. “Why don’t you go take a nap too. I need to be in Naples.”
She doesn’t move. She is as obstinate as my brother. Maybe that’s what they have in common.
What I see when I look at her is the woman from this afternoon. Sitting on the side of the pool, breasts displayed, bikini pulled aside to expose her pussy to my brother, to offer it to him. A thing he took with greed.
“Why did you share me with him?”
“Like I have always told you, Dandelion, you belong to us both. And I don’t think you minded. Considering how you came, that is.”
“He hates me.”
“He carries guilt. He thinks he’s betraying our family by wanting you. And I can assure you, he does want you. But I can’t talk about this now. I need to think. Go upstairs and pack.”
“Pack?”
“We’re going to New York.”
“But Emma just got here.”
“Emma won’t be joining us. Your father’s will is going to be read in two days. You and I need to be present.”
“I’m sure we can use Zoom or something.”
“That’s not going to work. Look, I can’t talk about this right now. Just go pack, Vittoria. It’ll be a short trip. A few nights at most. Emma will be looked after.”
“I’m not going to New York, Amadeo. I’m not leaving her. I just got her back.”
“You are. Go upstairs. Now. If I have to take you up, I will lock you in your room until it’s time to leave.”
She folds her arms across her chest and tilts her chin up in stubborn defiance.
If she thinks I’m joking, she’s got another thing coming. “Fucking go.”
“No.”
“For fuck’s sake!”
She must see I’m done because she spins on her heel to go, but I’m faster. She yelps when I grab her arm and walk her out of the library, through the living room, and up the stairs to her bedroom. I call for her guard, and he follows.
“I’ll pack! Let me go.”
“Too late.” I sit her on the still-bare bed, but maybe she’ll learn a lesson because she is still hostile, I remind myself. Wife or not. Truce or not.
“Amadeo, please!” she calls out as I walk to the door.