Nope. Even if I wanted to be reasonable right now—which I definitely do not—there’s a tight ball of hurt in my chest, and it’s throbbing. Hurts every time I breathe. I can’tthinklike this.
“We’re going back to the compound. I’m going to pack a bag, and you’re going to let me, and I’m getting far, far away from you assholes, hit or no hit. And if you or Santo or one of his other lackeys tries to hold me there, I’ll carve you up. Understood?”
Raul tips his head back against the seat, misery etched on his handsome face. “Understood.”
Good. That’s settled, then.
I flex my aching fingers against the steering wheel, and my palms are damp.
* * *
Santo is waiting for us when we roar up his driveway, arms folded as he stands at the top of the stone steps. The night sky is thick with dark clouds, and the only lights on the grounds are the electric ones in the bushes. I jerk the car, parking as messily as I possibly can, and hop out with one wheel teetering on the first step.
“Lovely,” Santo calls, irritation snapping through his words. “How mature, Allegra.”
God, I hate my brother sometimes.
Raul piles out of the car behind me, still barefoot in his pajama pants and white t-shirt, and the mob boss raises an eyebrow at the state of us. Don’t know why he’d be so surprised—as if I’d let that rat bastard shower and change before driving us home.
“Allegra,” Santo begins, winding up for a lecture, but I march past him. What’s he going to do? Have me sent away against my will? So original. “Allegra.”
My big brother falls into step beside me, icy blue eyes checking me with equal parts anger and concern. “You are behaving like a child.”
Am I? Sure, I’m huffing with every breath, and I’m so pissed off I can barely speak, but beneath the mood, I don’t think I’m actually out of line.
Just in case, I force my shoulders away from my ears and speak politely. “I’m going away for a while.”
“No,” Santo says immediately, and my temper flares back up like he just poured a liter of gasoline on the fire.
“I’m not asking permission, asshole.”
“You’re still not going. It’s not safe.”
I wheel around in the center of the mansion lobby, throwing up my arms. Our words bounce off the tiles and up to the ornate ceilings, and I’m so tired and pissed off and sad.
“It’s not safe for mehere.Don’t you get that?” My cheeks are wet, and I swipe at my face, annoyed. Behind us, a small crowd shuffles into the lobby, their eyes wide. There’s Nico with a dark haired woman tucked under his arm; Diego and an exhausted Raul. A butler and a damn maid.
No privacy in this place. Never any space to fall apart.
“That’s why I sent you to that safe house—”
“No, I mean it’s not safe here withyou. Or with…” I can’t say Raul’s name, my throat suddenly tight, but we all hear it. The doctor’s name, weighing down my tongue.
Santo has turned to stone, his face wiped clean of any expression. I’ve hurt him, then. It’s an olympic feat, but I can’t even be glad about it.
I inch closer, lowering my voice so only my brother can hear. “You two, and even Nico and Diego… you break my heart when you pull shit like this. When you close ranks and leave me on the outside. So how is a broken heart safe, Santo? How is that better than a price on my head? Nico and Diego are supposed to be my friends, and you’re supposed to be my brother, and Raul—”
I cut off, and take two slow breaths. My eyes are blurry, my words coming out in a horrible croak. “This feels worse than any stab wound, Santo.”
The mob boss scrubs one hand down his face, then glances over my shoulder. His eyes narrow at the crowd, and the word slices through the quiet lobby. “Leave.”
Hurried steps rush across the tiles.
“If you really want to go,” he says slowly, “we’ll make arrangements together. Not,” he adds, one eyebrow raising when I start to argue, “because I want to control where you go. But it will be safer if you use my resources. You are still a De Rossi, Allegra.”
Oh. My shoulders slump, and I’m dizzy with relief as I gaze at my cold, calm older brother. He’s normally so unruffled, so impossible to bother, but right now his eyes are oddly bright.
“Thank you,” I whisper.