Page 28 of Brutal Revenge

“You did what?” Valentina asks, sitting straighter.

“He hit her,” I answer, as if it’ll excuse everything. When Giovanni silently mocks me like my dick is half the length it is and skinnier than a pencil—which doesn’t feel far off the mark today—I add, “And she has extremely fuckable lips.”

I’ll forever throw my brothers under the bus with me.

If one of us goes down, we all go down.

It is the Caruso way.

“Don’t act like you didn’t notice them, Vanni.”

He doesn’t grant Valentina even a second of jealousy. “Why the fuck would I notice her lips? They’re not on my wife.”

“Wife-to-be,” I correct, grinning. He steps closer, knuckles bulging as he prepares to deck me for making Valentina uncomfortable.

Valentina raises a dark brow. “From what I’ve gathered from Vanni’s ramblings, the ruse didn’t end once you got Azra away from Don Adami.” She throws up the universal sign for stop when Giovanni prowls closer to her, ready to maul her, before she scoots to the edge of her seat. “But you don’t look thrilled by your decision.”

“I’m tired,” I mutter. “Thrilled isn’t on the menu.”

“And yourfiancéewon’t be eitherwhen she finds out about the women you welcome under our roof every night.”

Valentina slants her head and purses her lips. “Giovanni.”

“What?” he says nondefensively, laughing. “You won’t be supporting him once you realize he’s so detached from reality he doesn’t even know their names. He remembers them by what day of the week they show up.”

I rub my temples. “I didn’t tell you that for you to judge me.”

“No,” Giovanni agrees, “you told me that because you were bragging.”

Valentina snorts, and when Giovanni shoots her a hungry, wanton stare, she lifts her hands in surrender.

Though he wishes he were anywhere but here, lecturing me, and someone more enticing, like with his head buried between Valentina’s legs, he turns back to me. “What did you say to Elio the other week? Don’t act like our father wouldn’t hang you from the rafters by your nuts if you stepped out on your missus. When you get shacked up, it’s the same pussy for eternity.”

“Yeah, but this is different. We’re not really getting married.”

A sigh whistles in Giovanni’s chest. “Yet someone as sentimental as our father won’t care. He always said we’d fall in order. Dante is fucking gone… so guess whose name is next on the list?”

I scoff. “Papa is full of it.”

Hearing the fear in my tone, Giovanni laughs. “Only time will tell, lover boy.”

“We’re meant to fall in order,” I say before I can stop myself, “but Nico’s been gone for years.”

The room freezes, and I realize two seconds too late that I’ve cracked open a door Nico would give anything to keep bolted shut.

I either run when cornered or undertake a massacre. Since I’m fond as fuck of my brothers, I don’t contemplate the latter for even a second.

I stand, my chair scratching the floorboards. “I’m going to bed.”

“Matteo—” Giovanni starts.

“Tomorrow,” I say, already halfway to the door. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Valentina’s voice follows me out, soft but stern. “Be kind to her, Matteo. It took a lot of gall for her to show up here today, and some women only become that courageousafterbeing hurt.”

I don’t reply. I can’t. My fury is too high picturing Azra hurt.

The hallways between the main living rooms and the sleeping quarters are quiet with a silence that amplifies my thoughts. After noticing the maid I ordered to take Azra to her room, I’m tempted to ask which room she put Azra in, purely so we can hash out more of our agreement without an audience, but it’s late, and I’m also full of shit.