Sweet Temptation(59)

Christian shook his head. “I can handle it. I’ve seen worse.”

I picked up Simona and we headed upstairs into her nursery. On the way, I noticed that the door to Gaia’s old room was ajar. I put Simona down on the changing table. I’d check on Daniele afterward.

Christian’s face twisted in disgust when I opened the diaper. He’d definitely never changed his child’s diaper.

“I thought you could handle it?” I teased, even if my own nose twitched at the stench, especially when Simona had any kind of meat before—like today.

“That doesn’t mean I enjoy it.”

“I don’t enjoy it either, but someone has to do it,” I said, then tickled Simona’s belly, causing her to grin. “Right?”

“Dad should have never forced you into this position. You are too young to take care of two little kids, who aren’t even your own.”

It was starting to annoy me that everyone kept saying that. Mom, now Christian, and even Cassio kept calling them his kids. We hadn’t been married long, but I wished he’d see how much I already cared about them. “I can handle it, Christian,” I snapped. “It’s not easy, but I’m stubborn.”

“True.”

I threw him an indignant look but couldn’t really stay mad at him seeing the grin that had accompanied my childhood. Once I was done with Simona, I put her into her crib. I could tell that she was tired. She had refused to go down for her nap at noon. She cried when I stepped back, so I bent over her and rocked the crib until her eyes drooped once more. But the moment I tried to go away, she started wailing again. This time I didn’t go to her, hoping she’d settle down. Some people said you needed to let the kids soothe themselves and let them cry, but I found that impossibly hard to do.

“She’s really demanding,” Christian commented, leaning in the doorway with crossed arms.

I picked Simona up, trying to figure out what was wrong. She kept wailing then without warning she spit up on me and herself.

“Eww,” Christian said.

With a sigh, I changed her clothes before I put her into the crib again. This time she quieted after a couple of minutes. I motioned for Christian to be silent as we walked out and closed the door. He eyed the vomit on my shirt and in my hair. “Aren’t you going to change?”

I snorted. “No. I like smelling like a bar on Sunday morning.”

“As if you know how a bar smells.”

I didn’t. I’d never been allowed in one, and not necessarily because of my age. Cassio probably wouldn’t let me set foot in one once I turned twenty-one either. I walked into the bedroom, trying not to pay too close attention to my ruined shirt. The stench was bad enough. Christian looked around curiously. Would Cassio be angry that I brought someone else into his private quarters? He and Christian had worked together for years, but they certainly weren’t friends.

“I need to grab a quick shower. Can you check on Simona if she starts wailing again? I’m worried she’ll throw up again.”

“Sure. I’ll go wait in the hallway while you get ready. Can’t leave you out of sight without a bodyguard after all.”

I rolled my eyes then headed into the bathroom. It wasn’t easy getting out of my clothes without getting the vomit on my skin. Throwing over a bathrobe, I hurried downstairs to the laundry to put the dirty clothes in a washing machine despite Christian’s questioning look. I heaved a sigh of relief when hot water finally streamed down my body, dispersing the lingering smell of vomit.

I was blow-drying my hair when I heard commotion. Turning it off, I listened. A distorted male voice carried over to me. I took a step closer to the bedroom door.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Cassio snarled.

I put the blow-dryer down and rushed out of the bathroom, only wrapped in my towel, my hair still damp. What I saw in the bedroom sent a wave of shock through me. Cassio shoved Christian against the wall, his forearm wedged into my brother’s throat.

Cassio’s gaze cut to me. Slowly his eyes slid over my half-dressed state, and his expression morphed into pure rage.

He hurled Christian to the floor, pulled his knife from his holster, and knelt on my brother’s chest. My blood ran cold. Cassio pressed the gleaming blade against Christian’s throat. Blood welled up at once. What was happening here?

I rushed forward and gripped his arm, trying to pull him away. “Cassio, what are you doing? Stop it! Stop it, please!”

Cassio bent down, bringing his face closer to Christian, ignoring my futile attempts at stopping him. “What the fuck are you doing alone with my wife?”

It took a couple of heartbeats for his words to trickle through the fog of my terror. “Cassio, have you lost your mind? That’s my brother! Let him go now!”

Christian tried to free himself, but with Cassio’s weight on his chest and the knife against his carotid, he was trapped. He couldn’t speak either. His face was turning increasingly red and his eyes were frantic.

“Please, I beg you, let him go. Whatever you think is going on, it’s not!”

Cassio didn’t react.

Shuffling sounded in the corridor. I glanced toward the door but didn’t see anything. Cassio froze following my gaze. It had to be Daniele. Cassio released Christian abruptly and shot to his feet, hiding the knife behind his back a moment before Daniele appeared in the doorway. His hair was tousled and his face sleepy. He looked from Christian on the floor to me who knelt beside him up to Cassio. Christian was pressing his palm to his bleeding throat so Daniele couldn’t see anything.