Page 40 of Ruthless Sinner
“So you’re the reason why Sally and I are bunking in the pool house, huh?”
I pull my head out of the fridge and stare at him. Dante isn’t a beat-around-the-bush kind of guy, but Luciano has a more subtle approach. He drops hints instead of asking me directly for what he wants to know. I don’t like it.
“No. Your brother is responsible for you bunking in the pool house,” I respond with tightly pursed lips, my jaw tense, and my teeth clenched. A deep frown forms as I hold back the retort that threatens to spill out.
Across from me, Luciano kicks his legs restlessly. “I don’t know. It seems like you being here is why your father’s guys showed up.”
I slam the fridge door shut and the insides rattle. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for your brother.”
“You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for your father borrowing money from my father.”
“I know you think your little quips are cute, but I’m not amused. I have a broken wrist because of your brother. I have six stitches in my neck. I have?—”
With a nervous chuckle, Luciano slowly raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It was supposed to be a lighthearted joke.”
He’s mistaken if he thinks I’m in the mood for lighthearted banter. I just survived my own personal hell. “Whatever,” I grumble and begin to walk away.
“I really didn’t mean to piss you off, Adalina.”
“Well, congratulations on your success,” I retort sarcastically, struggling to control my rising irritation towards Dante’s arrogant brother. I decide I don’t like him.
“Once upon a time, my father wanted you and me to marry,” Luciano calls after me. “But he knew your father wouldn’t accept the marriage. Guess you’ll have to settle for Dante.”
With a sharp pivot on my heel, I whip around to face him, my chest rising and falling with unexpected anger. “Your brother is already engaged.”
Luciano’s eyebrow stretches toward his hairline in mock surprise. “You mean he’s cheating on his betrothed by fucking you every night?” His words are delivered with cool confidence as if he knows he’s struck a nerve. With a graceful leap, he hops off the counter and glides towards me in a single fluid movement. “Who would have thought?”
“If you have a problem, take it up with your brother. Because if you take it up with me, I’m going to kick you in the dick and then stomp on your balls until they explode. Do you hear me?” I didn’t survive hell to be intimidated by lesser men. “I am not the kind of girl you fuck with. I don’t care if Dante is your brother. I don’t care if you’re the son of Christ. I am done putting up with other people’s shit. So stay the fuck away from me.”
I have been meek for far too long. I’ve let my captivity get the best of me. I allowed men to transform me into the person they wanted me to be.
But I’m done letting others mold me into their definition of perfection.
Chapter 42
Dante
Iam greeted by a friendly face at the receptionist’s desk in the hospital. She hands me some paperwork, and I quickly fill it out, anxious to see Enzo. The woman’s fingers dance across the keyboard as she enters my information into the computer, a soft hum escaping her lips. After a few moments, she looks up at me with a kind smile and hands me a slip of paper with Enzo’s room number and some directions.
Enzo didn’t want me to come to the hospital. He said he was fine and he’d be out in no time, but this is personal.
When I enter his room, he’s flirting with a nurse. He’s propped up in bed, surrounded by white sheets and pillows, looking at the woman as if she hung the moon just for him. “C’mon, it’s just dinner. If I can let you change my bandages, you can let me take you out.”
The nurse’s eyes widen in surprise as she catches sight of me. A deep shade of crimson creeps up her cheeks, highlighting the freckles that dot her skin. She quickly pulls away from Enzo’s bedside, a look of guilt and embarrassment crossing her features. “I’ll check on you later, Mr. Castelli.” Then she hurries out of the room, avoiding eye contact.
As the door closes, he hits me with an accusation. “You’re nothing but a cockblock,” Enzo glares. “And didn’t I tell you not to visit?”
“I didn’t know you were running game on the local talent,” I grin. “She was pretty. What’s her name?”
“Clara,” Enzo’s voice rings out decisively, but then he wavers and changes his mind a moment later. “No, Miriam. Clara’s the night nurse.”
I shake my head and walk over to the chart at the foot of the bed. “So you’ve got multiple fish on the line.”
Enzo lets out an exasperated sigh and shifts his weight, sinking into the stiff hospital pillows. “There’s nothing else to do. It’s either hit on the nurses or watch daytime television. Did you know The Price Is Right is still on TV?”
I can’t remember the last time I watched television. I don’t have the time or inclination. There’s too much to do and not enough time. “I can’t say I’m familiar with the cable line-up these days. Let me know if there’s something I should tune into.”
The medical chart is filled with notes and scribbles, all signed with Silas’ messy signature. The paperwork mentions a wound, its origin unknown, but the notes meticulously document everything from the initial surgery to the late-night check-ins. “How are you feeling? Stone told me about the infection.”