Sweet Temptation(62)



That was betrayal. Considering how bad things were in the Famiglia at the moment, and how volatile Luca was, I couldn’t allow Christian to entertain these ideas. “No. I’m fine, honestly. We can talk tomorrow.”

“Giulia—”

“Tomorrow.” I hung up. “That look needs explaining, Cassio.”

He raised an eyebrow as if he didn’t know what I was talking about. I didn’t believe that for one second. His eyes practically burned with angry jealousy when I talked to Christian. It was something I couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

“How can you even consider that I’d have something with my own brother?” Downing half of my drink, I got up and knelt before him, touching his clenched fist resting on his thigh. He opened it so I could link our fingers. Behind the anger and suspicion in his eyes lingered a deep pain and vulnerability. It was the latter that hushed my own fury over what he’d done. “Please, tell me the truth.”

Cassio bent down and kissed me sweetly.

I frowned. This wasn’t the moment for physical closeness. I wanted answers.

“I needed that last kiss before you’ll always look at me the way you looked at me when I attacked Christian.” He leaned back, looking off into the flames once more. “I killed my first wife.”

The ground dropped away under me. Slowly I pulled my hand away from his, wishing I had misunderstood him and terribly certain that I hadn’t.

Cassio smiled darkly. He took his time tracing my horrified expression with his eyes. “Not with my own hands. She killed herself, but she did it because of me.”

Relief almost knocked the breath out of me. If Cassio had actually killed his wife, I couldn’t have stayed with him—not that he’d ever allow me to leave him.

I knew suicide was more common than people liked to admit in our circles, but usually it was the result of abuse and despair. What had Cassio done to his wife? He was good to me and to his kids. I couldn’t imagine him abusing his late wife, unless her death had made him change his ways. Even the cut on my arm… even if that hadn’t been Christian’s doing, it hadn’t been his intention. He’d looked guilty afterward.

“Why?” I asked, half scared to know the truth, but I wanted to be rid of the past’s dark shadows and shedding light on what happened was the only way to do it.

Cassio smiled without humor. The flames created shadows on his sharp face. “Because I killed the man she loved.”

I was shocked into silence.





The Past



This day had been an absolute clusterfuck. Losing two men to those fucking bikers was bad enough. Losing them because we had a rat was worse. I wasn’t sure who he was, not with certainty. Many things pointed to Andrea. He hadn’t been at Christmas dinner two days ago, but he was supposed to watch Gaia today.

It was close to midnight when I entered our home, expecting everyone in bed as usual. Light streamed into the foyer from the living room. Following it, I found Daniele on the sofa playing on a small tablet, his brows puckered in concentration. I went over to him. “Why are you still up?”

“Can’t sleep. Uncle Andrea gave me this.”

“Where is he?”

“Upstairs with Mom. They’re playing.”

He didn’t even look up, completely mesmerized by the colorful screen. It was exactly why I hadn’t wanted him to have one of these things.

“Playing?”

Daniele nodded distractedly. “Yeah. Uncle Andrea gave me this to play too.”

“Stay here and keep playing,” I said firmly and walked toward the stairs, drawing my gun. I crept up the stairs, making sure I didn’t make a sound.

In front of the door to Gaia’s bedroom, I stopped, listening. Behind the door, someone grunted and a woman cried out. They weren’t sounds of torture.

I shoved open the door. It smashed against the wall behind it.

Fury slithered through my veins at the sight before me. Gaia, my heavily pregnant wife, straddled her half-brother, both of them naked.

My wife was fucking her half-brother.

For a second neither of us moved.

Gaia let out a shriek, covering her breasts as if I had less right to see them than her fucking half-brother. A look passed between them, and I knew this had been going on for a long time, maybe longer than she and I had been married.

The bitter taste of betrayal bloomed in my mouth, followed by the irresistible thirst for revenge. I closed the door. Andrea pushed Gaia off him and lunged for the gun on the nightstand. I pulled the trigger. The bullet tore through his palm, blowing it apart. Blood and flesh splattered everywhere.

He roared in agony.

“No!” Gaia shrieked, stumbling to her feet and moving toward the gun. I was by her side in two large steps, wrapped my arms around her ribcage above her belly.

“No!” she shrieked, struggling in my hold. I covered her mouth with my palm and dragged her toward the bathroom. “Stop screaming,” I growled. “Daniele doesn’t need to hear this.”

Her muffled screams didn’t cease. She didn’t care if our son heard this. I pushed her into the bathroom and locked the door before I turned back to Andrea who was coming out of his pain-induced daze. Gaia hammered against the door. Andrea tried for the gun again. I shot his other hand too, feeling sick satisfaction at his cry of agony. He fell back with a choked cry, holding his ruined hands in front of him.

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