Breaking Him (Love is War #1)(25)

She threw back her head and laughed.

I smiled with her. She had one of those of laughs, it was a tinkling, delightful thing, and it brought joy to a room.

“Oh yes, dear girl, I had boyfriends before I met Grandpa.”

My eyes widened. I hadn’t quite believed it when I’d read it. “H-how many boyfriends did you have?”

She laughed some more. “I was a wicked, wicked woman,” she drawled.

“Gram!” Dante protested.

She nudged me playfully and nodded her head toward her grandson. I glanced at him. He was across the room, sprawled out on a couch, eyes closed, but he wasn’t sleeping. He was listening to us, and occasionally he’d add something into the conversation.

“Look at the power you have over him, Scarlett,” said Gram conspiratorially, but loud enough for him to hear. “He’s heard all of my stories a hundred times, but he’ll listen to them all again if it means being in the same room with you. Not even fourteen and you’ve already brought him to heel.”

“Gram! Gram!” We both protested.

“And look at her, dear boy,” she called out to him. “Here is a girl that will adore you the way you deserve to be adored,” she told him. “Treat that like the precious thing it is.”

She looked back and forth between our blushing faces. “Don’t fight it, my lovely children. It’s a beautiful thing. Love will make your life worthwhile. It’s the most powerful force on earth. Let it rule you and you won’t be sorry.”

Dante was sitting up now, eyes open and trained on his wicked grandmother.

She smiled at him fondly. “Your grandfather’s love saved my soul. All I want is for you to love and be loved in the way you deserve, and I’m green with envy that you found it so early in your life.”

“What happened to Grandfather?” I asked her, changing the subject, but I was curious. I’d never been told how he’d died. I’d always wondered but they never talked about it.

“Cancer, dear. Dreadful thing. I didn’t have enough time with him, but then a lifetime wouldn’t have been enough, I think.”

She looked sad for a long moment, heart-wrenchingly so, but then seemed to shake it off. “You should try acting, my dear. Your face was made to be onscreen.

“Really? You think so?” I was highly flattered. The way Gram talked about acting, in reverent loving tones, I could tell it was a sacred thing to her. That she thought I was worthy was everything to me.

“Oh yes. You have a face that doesn’t come along often. Once in a generation, if that. So expressive but so lovely.”

I eyed her doubtfully. I didn’t spend a ton of time looking in the mirror, and the only family I had was my grandma (and to say she was homely was putting it kindly), so I’d never had any reason to think I might be pretty, let alone beautiful. If I had to come up with one word to describe my looks, I’d have picked wild, or messy.

She smiled at me, then sent a meaningful look toward Dante, who’d taken to lying down and listening to us again. “You don’t believe me, but you will. You don’t favor your grandmother, obviously, but your mother was a stunning girl. Breathtaking. Like you. But if you really have your doubts, if somehow you don’t see your beauty when you look in the mirror, just try to notice how other people react to you, how they stare. Don’t you ever wonder why they stare?”

“Because I’m the trashcan girl,” I said simply. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dante shoot up again, and I knew I’d agitated him. He hated when anyone called me that. Even me.

“No, my dear. The people who call you that are being cruel and jealous. It says more about them than you, and it’s much easier to hate someone that they envy.”

I was still more than a little skeptical, but she shrugged and went on. “And you’d enjoy the escape of stepping into someone else’s shoes, I’ll bet. Life hasn’t been easy on you, but when you act, you can live any life you want. There’s nothing like it. Please at least consider giving it a try. If for no other reason than to humor me, okay?”

I didn’t hesitate. “I’ll definitely try it, Gram. I’ll give it my best. For you.”





CHAPTER





THIRTEEN





"Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell."

~Joan Crawford





PRESENT


I took my shaking self to the bathroom the instant Dante had left my room. I gripped the counter and told myself to breathe, my trembling limbs barely holding me up.

I told myself that the shaking was relief at his absence.

When it passed, I went into the living room. I smiled in spite of myself when I caught sight of the mystery man.

Ah. Anton. I should’ve guessed.

“Hopefully Demi didn’t get you punched in the moneymaker with her little stunt back there,” I said in greeting.

The tall man that lounged comfortably on our oversized sectional rose at my entrance, his rueful grin a familiar, endearing sight. “It was a close thing, I think, but despite her best efforts, I seem to be unharmed.

I hugged him briefly, air-kissing both of his cheeks while he bent down far enough to real-kiss mine.