“Bastian!” I interrupt.
He glares at me, and I shake my head. It all happens so quickly I’m not sure Vittoria notices because she continues as if uninterrupted.
“You think I don’t know what kind of man he was? I knew. But he wasn’t that to me. That wasn’t the face I saw. How can I hate someone who only ever showed me love? So if you need to hate me for that, go ahead. But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there? There’s another side to you, Bastian. I’ve seen it. Saw it last night.”
“You think you see me?” he asks, more sober than he was moments ago.
“Yeah, I think I do. I think you want to hate me, but you can’t. You want to hate us, but you can’t. And I think it makes you more human than you like.” She finishes with much less vehemence in her voice. Enough to defuse some of the tension.
He grits his jaw and releases her. There is truth in what she says, and none of us can deny it. Bastian walks backward, drops to a seat on the edge of the couch, and shoves a hand through his hair.
She walks to him. “And you see me, too. And that’s eating you up because it’s not as easy to hurt someone you see as human.”
“You’re deluded, Dandelion.”
“You’re angry, Bastian.” She pauses and glances at me. She’s measuring her words. She turns back to my brother. “So take it out on me.”
They watch one another for a long, long moment.
“Do it. Like you wanted to this afternoon before your brother offered me to you.” She pulls her shirt off and stands before him wearing just her panties.
Bastian’s eyes move over her, and there’s a palpable shift in the energy in the room. A charge to it.
“Take it out on me,” she repeats, slipping her panties off, letting them drop to the floor.
I move to lock the library door.
Bastian stands. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, Dandelion. I told you once it would be better for you if I walk away.”
“I’m not scared of you.”
“No?” He steps closer, looming over her. He cocks his head to the side, and I see her spine stiffen as he picks up a lock of soft blond hair and lets it slip through his fingers. In a way, that hair, it’s the manifestation of her vulnerability and her strength. Delicate to look at but strong when forced. He meets her eyes again and twists that lock and more around his fist then tugs her head backward. His gaze moves over her throat to her breasts, and she cries out when he pinches a nipple. Satisfied, my brother smiles, and when he looks at her again, his eyes are black coals, dots of amber fire burning beneath. “You sure about that, Dandelion?”
She doesn’t answer. Doesn’t have time to. He spins her around and pushes her to her knees. Her hands wrap around his instinctively, her head at a painful angle when she meets my eyes.
She whimpers, and I know he’s hurting her as he kneels behind her, so much bigger than her.
He leans close so his mouth is at her ear. “You sure you’re not scared of me?” Her body shudders as he closes his mouth over the pulse at her neck. She swallows hard, eyes locked on me. “Tell me again how you’re not scared of me.”
“I’m not.” Defiant as ever, our Dandelion.
He pushes her forward, so she has to slap her hands onto the carpet before he shoves her face into it. But he doesn’t want that. Doesn’t want her face obscured. He wants me to watch her and her to watch me.
“Not scared of this?” he asks, tugging his shirt over his head with his free hand, then gripping her ass cheek. “Because it’s not your pussy I’m going to take.”
She doesn’t speak, but I see her hesitation at his proclamation.
“And Amadeo won’t help you. He won’t stop me. Isn’t that right, brother?” he asks me.
From inside the desk drawer, I take out a tube of hand cream and toss it to him in answer. He catches it in one hand. I take a seat in the armchair so I can see her face. Look her straight in the eye.
“That’s right,” I say.
“You heard him,” he tells her. “So if you’re scared, little Dandelion, now is the time to speak up. I’ll stop now if you tell me you’re scared. I’ll walk away. But if you don’t, if you are hell-bent on proving you’re not afraid of me, know that once I start, I won’t stop.”
I’m not sure if it’s her turning her head or he’s forcing it, but she looks over her shoulder at him.
“I’m not scared of you,” she says, voice unshaking.