“Not a big deal? You’re screwing my cousin and you don’t think it’s a big deal?”
Nico grabbed Ava’s shirt off the arm of the sofa and tossed it at her. “Get your clothes on and get outta here. Carmela and I need to talk.”
“What about Gemma? She’s passed out.”
“Wake her up. I’m sure your ride is here by now.”
“Fuck you, Nico. Why don’t you tell her about us? Tell her how we’ve been together off and on for years.”
“We fuck. So what? We’ve never been together. You’re just another piece of ass!” Nico roared, and Gemma lifted her head, rubbing her hand over her face.
“I hate you Nico DeAngelo. This is over for real this time.”
“Good. Perfect timing. I’m getting married in a month anyway.”
Ava pulled her shirt over her head, her hands trembling and her face white. “Let’s go, Gemma. Your brother’s an asshole.”
Gemma pushed herself from the chair and whispered, “This whole thing with Carmela is a mistake. She’s not good for you. You know she’s been sneaking around with—”
“Get the fuck outta here! Both of you.”
“Fine.” Gemma squared her shoulders. “Be my guest. Fuck up your life.”
Gemma and Ava stomped across the room, and the door slammed with a heavy thud.
“I won’t marry you,” I announced, finally feeling like I had enough leverage to get out of this marriage. My brother would never make me marry Nico after hearing about this.
“We’ve already had this discussion, Carmela, and we came to an agreement. As far as I’m concerned, everything is settled.”
“Not anymore. I won’t go through with it. You’re sleeping with my cousin, and I-I am in love with someone else.”
He lifted and dropped a shoulder, the expression on his face calm and bored, but his eyes glittered with undisguised rage. “I don’t care. I don’t want or need your love. And this man you claim to love, I’ll take care of him.”
My spine snapped attention. “Are you threatening to hurt him?”
“By him, I want to clarify, we’re both talking about Konstantin Trincher, correct?”
“You know about him?” I questioned, shock bleeding from my voice.
His eyes brightened, making no attempt to hide his amusement. “Of course I do. And while I hate the idea of getting used goods, your uncle has agreed to compensate me, so I’ll get over it. Money will keep me entertained much longer than a faithless wife. Besides, I figure I can have my pick of women. Nobody would fault me given your behavior over the last month.”
Snickering, he grabbed a manila folder from the end table and tossed it at me. Glossy 8x10 pictures of Kon and me spilled across the floor.” “Here’s some mementos. You can put them in a photo album and look at them in the years to come and remember the good ol’ days.”
“You’re sick. Why would you say something like that? Is this a joke to you or are you so jaded that you don’t care about anyone or anything?”
“Look at me, Carmela,” he said. “Look into my eyes. I dare you to find any trace of a man who gives a shit. I do what I have to, and you’re merely another step on the stairway to the place I want to be.”
Peering into his soulless eyes, my stomach heaved with nausea. “Where’s that?”
“At the top. I’m going to lead the Trassato family. I’m going to be Dominick’s successor.” He cocked his head to the side. “Once Dominick’s gone, I won’t have much use for you. Think about that. You might want to be on your best behavior from here on out.”
“A lot can happen before then. Like me shoving a knife in your neck or poisoning your food. Think about that, asshole.”
I was unable to listen to him any longer. Dominick would have to put a gun to my head to get me to marry Nico. Any potential to grow to like or respect this man was shot to Hell, and I’d be damned if I tied my life to him, or, God forbid, had kids with him. A shiver darted down my spine at the thought of Nico touching me. I surged toward the door, needing to get away from him.
He sprang into action, grabbing my wrist before I got more than a couple of feet. When I tried to wrench it away, his hand tightened, pulling me firmly against the length of his frame. His face crowded mine, and I could smell wine on his breath.
“Don’t fuck with me, Carmela.” He pressed me into the kitchen table, one hand curled around my neck and the other twisted in my hair, yanking at the roots and stinging my scalp. “I don’t give a shit who your uncle or your brother are. With one call, I can make you disappear. Nobody will ever find you, and the best part is I already have an alibi. It’s called the Russians,” he hissed, the icy tone of his voice making my knees wobble.