Taking the unlit cigar from his mouth, he places it down only to take his hand and use it to cover mine, stilling my motion and forcing me to look at him. When I do, I truly take in all this appearance – he's disheveled, bloodied, but still as beautiful as ever.
"Let's clean you up," I utter, forcing myself to calm down and not think anything of him. "Then you can go and rest and I can go back to my wine."
"You don't have to be so off with me, Amelia. I know what I did, I know what I’m doing, but the old Amelia-"
"The old Amelia's gone," I state back, fighting for a convincing tone. I feel like I have to keep voicing that because no one seems to realize that Amelia Abbiati is a reformed character – and not one of a good kind. "She left when you let me go again, Zane. You have to accept that or we’ll be in a vicious circle for a long time to come. This, whatever we are now, is going to take a lot of work. You being almost blown up doesn’t just solve all our problems."
“I wasn’t expecting it to,” he states wryly, his lips toying at the corners, threatening to smile a little. “But I do love you playing my nurse again. It was almost instinctual.”
I pause, living in the memory of when he was shot all those months ago and I just revel in the absolute domesticated bliss that stole us both away in the aftermath of such horror. However, the longer I stare, the longer the red staining Zane’s shirt drives into my distant gaze. I slowly drag myself back and allow my shoulders to slump.
“That was a lifetime ago,” I reply, sadly putting a dampener on that memory. “I can’t worry that you’re going to get hurt along the way. I have enough stress waiting for news of my brothers as it is, without adding you to the stress of all of this.”
“I know,” Zane agrees. “This was just a botched job.”
“But that’s the point!” I exclaim, dropping away from the proximity we share. “There are always going to be shoddy jobs, botched missions, and twisted fucks wanting to change the game. You’ve experienced it all, but I can’t live with that constant threat that someday it won’t end as well as it did tonight. Cuts and grazes are fine, but what if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time? What then?”
“I don’t know,” he mutters, unable to look me in the eye. “But I can’t back away now. Not just because of my position by your father, but because of you. We’re much too close for me to cut a loss anymore. This is it, Amelia. I vowed to you that I just needed this chance and now that I have both hands on it, you can bet your pretty inheritance that I won’t ever let it go. No matter how much you fucking fight me.” As I turn to leave, he reaches for me, clasping his hand around my wrist. I turn, gently by force, and face him only to see his eyes sadden and his lips part. He speaks so quietly. “I just want to be your hero.”
My response should be with my heart bursting with pride for this man’s love and fight for me. I should melt a little at his words and fall gracefully into his arms, enraptured by love, and lost in desire. Except, it’s with that, I explode into a frenzy and snap entirely. “Most heroes are dead for a reason, Zane!”
With that, I leave the kitchen and scurry off to my room. I’m enraged, appalled, and furious that Zane is so blind to what he’s walking into! How can he not see that every day he is here, he’s screwing his life even more? How can he not see the danger he’s putting himself in? How can he be so stupid to the threats he’s enlisted in?
I sit on my bed, regulate my breathing, and force my hands to unclench from the balls they’ve tightly tensed themselves into. I’m trying to see his stance on this shitty predicament, but all I’m fucking hearing is, “Idiota! Idiota! Stupido idiota!”
“You shouldn’t be so hard on him,” Manuel speaks, his voice traveling from behind me. “He’s just trying to make you see sense.”
“See the sense that he’s an idiot?” I scoff and turn to face my brother as he closes in on my bed. “You know, I would be blown away with his bravery if it wasn’t such a suicide mission.”
Manuel shrugs. “It might be, but he’s still here. He knows what you’ve done, saw it with his own eyes, and is still here. He’s seen you push Lorenzo away, too, and pick him for a reason. You’ve given into temptation, Amelia, but every time you’re on that edge of getting it all, you pull yourself back.” His gaze is heavy upon me, and I feel myself struggle under it. “Don’t let your happily ever after slip away because you’re being stupid enough to let Papà win. He might be the Don of the Dio Lavoro, but he’s nothing to you but an inheritance check.”
“Is that what he is to you?”
“Of course,” he quips sarcastically. “He’s hardly playing the fatherly role toward me, and let’s face it, I’m never going to amount to anything in his eyes.” He looks at me, and I watch something dance around in his eyes that I remember possessing once before in my life – an essence of happiness. “It’s why I still see Ryan. My little piece of normalcy.”
I laugh, thinking about what I’ve learned about my brother tonight.