Sempre (Forever Series #1)(56)

Dominic walked up behind Carmine, eyeing him warily. “I should’ve watched Haven better. Nunzio cornered her.”

Carmine’s stomach dropped as he fought to keep his composure. “Where is she?”

“Up in your room,” Dominic said. “She said she was okay.”

Sighing, Carmine glanced back at his father in the kitchen as Nunzio snickered and pulled away. “That bitch begged for it.”

Carmine’s control slipped at those words. “What did you say?”

Nunzio glared at him. “I said she wanted me.”

Carmine leaped right for him, and Vincent blocked the path when Nunzio tried to move. Swinging, Carmine’s fist barely connected with the man’s nose when Sal intervened and dragged him away.

“You’re sick!” Carmine yelled as Vincent shoved Nunzio into the counter to continue sewing him up. Sal pulled Carmine into the foyer, not letting go of him until they were near the stairs. “This isn’t right!”

“I know, Principe, but didn’t we have a conversation yesterday about feelings having no place in business? He’ll face the consequences for disrespecting your father, but this isn’t a major violation.”

Carmine stared at him hard. “So she’s worth nothing to you people? Is that what you’re telling me? Oh, who gives a f**k if he hurts a girl? She’s no one special, because she wasn’t lucky enough to be born into a powerful family!”

Sal’s expression twisted with anger, the sight of it silencing Carmine. “That girl means more than you understand, but things are black and white to la famiglia. You need to learn how to distinguish between what’s personal and what’s business. You need to learn to follow the code of conduct here”—he smacked him in the back of the head—“and quit following this so much.” He punched Carmine in the chest, over his heart. “The moment you cursed at me yesterday, I knew she’d gotten to you here”—another punch in the chest—“and you’re going to cause problems if you don’t start using this.”

A final smack to the head sent Carmine over the edge. “Quit hitting me!”

Sal shook his head. “You know I think of you as a son. I’ve always treated you like you were my own, and I want what’s best for you. I want you to succeed, to have a good life, the life you’re supposed to have. I’m not telling you not to let the girl in here”—he tapped him lightly on the chest—“but I am telling you not to let those feelings override everything else. You need balance.”

Carmine ran his hands down his face, frustrated. “I get it.”

Sal clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re enamored. These things happen, but it’s a fragile situation that shouldn’t be flaunted. Trust me when I say it’s not the time to ignore reason.”

“I just . . . I didn’t realize it was obvious.”

“It’s a complicated situation,” Sal said. “Your father has a similar problem. I’ve spent years trying to get him to recognize boundaries, but he still finds himself blurring lines.” A loud bang rang out in the kitchen, and Salvatore sighed. “Now likely being one of those times.”

* * *

Haven stared at the clock, counting the minutes as they passed. Three. Five. Eight. Twelve. Sixteen. Twenty-two.

After thirty agonizing minutes, frantic footsteps bounded into the library. Someone tried to turn the locked doorknob, but Haven refused to open it, terrified to move. Keys jingled as the door opened, and Carmine rushed into the room.

He pulled her into his arms, tears still streaming down her cheeks. She wasn’t sure how long he held her before Dr. DeMarco’s voice rang out from the doorway. “Is she okay?”

Haven’s vision was blurry, but she could make out his stern expression. He looked irate. She hoped that anger wasn’t directed at her.

“She will be,” Carmine said. “Is Nunzio gone?”

“Sal’s driving him to the airport now.”

“The airport,” Carmine repeated. “He got off too easy. I would’ve killed him.”

All was quiet for a bit, and Haven closed her eyes. She began to wonder if they were alone when Dr. DeMarco’s voice rang out once more. “I would’ve killed him, too.”

* * *

Carmine lay beside Haven in bed, brushing the hair from her face. Her cries had quieted, her face blotchy from tears. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should’ve been here to protect you.”

“It’s not your fault,” she replied, her voice scratchy. “I’m the one who’s sorry for being so weak.”

“You aren’t weak,” he said. “You have every right to be shaken up. Fuck, I’m shaken up. No one touches my girl unless she wants to be touched. That’s something my mom made sure we understood—a woman’s body is a temple, and you should never enter it without an invitation.”

He paused and ran his fingers through his hair. It was difficult to talk about, but he wanted to share this with her. “I don’t know details, but my mom was raped when she was young. She spent time volunteering as an advocate after that. My father still donates money to the center in Chicago where she worked.”

Haven scooted closer to him. “Wow.”

“That’s the reason I don’t want you to feel like we have to do anything. Your body is your temple, and I won’t come in it unless you want me to.” The moment the words left his lips he laughed to himself. “That sounds so f**king wrong. I didn’t mean it that way.”