‘Stop,’ warned Luca.
‘Newsflash,’ said Nic, coming towards his brother again, his voice rising. ‘She doesn’t want a fucking shield, she wants a sword, so I gave her the sword, and it cuts you up. It makes you feel small and ignored, because we’re not listening to you, because for once, we’re not falling under your instruction and you can’t control us—’
‘I mean it, Nicoli.’ Luca was seething, his features turning feral. He was dangerous like this; he was unpredictable, and everyone knew it. ‘Sophie doesn’t belong to you. She doesn’t belong to anyone.’
Nic wouldn’t relent. ‘You’re mad because you have no control over what will happen. You feel small and pathetic, and you should! You couldn’t handle not having all the power. You wanted to take it from me. You wanted to take her from me! You wanted to win!’
I waded in between them. ‘Stop!’ I shouted. ‘This isn’t some stupid power game, Nic. He’s not using me!’
Nic turned on me, his eyes flashing. ‘He’s using you to get to me.’
‘You and I aren’t together,’ I said, exasperated beyond words. ‘We’re over. We’ve been over for a while.’
‘I was going to win you back,’ Nic said, pushing his temper towards me like a storm cloud. ‘But he took that chance away!’
Enough. I had had enough of Nic treating me like some kind of trophy. I had had enough of him treating my desires and opinions like transitory thoughts that could be changed and manipulated at his leisure.
‘I kissed him!’ I shouted. ‘I wanted it!’
He levelled me with a dark look. ‘I know him better than you, Sophie. Don’t be an idiot. Get out of my way,’ he hissed. ‘I want him to admit it.’
He shoved me aside and stalked towards Luca. Dom and Gino moved in beside Nic, a cautionary hand on each of his shoulders, holding him back.
Luca stood stock-still, unblinking, as he raised his finger at his brother. ‘Touch her like that again, and I’ll end you.’
‘Admit it,’ Nic spat, ignoring the threat. ‘Admit that you kissed her to get back at me. Admit that you wanted to teach me a lesson! You selfish son of a bitch!’
Luca bared his teeth at Nic. ‘Shut your mouth, Nicoli.’
‘No!’ Nic screamed.
‘Fine!’ Luca shouted, coming right up to Nic’s face, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. ‘You want the truth?’
‘Yes!’ Nic yelled, refusing to budge. ‘Give me the fucking truth!’
‘Here it is!’ Luca said. ‘I didn’t kiss Sophie to get back at you, I kissed her because I’m in love with her!’
Nic reeled backwards, as though the blow had been physical.
Gino and Dom gasped in unison.
My jaw unhinged.
Valentino buried his face in his hands and groaned.
And Felice threw his head back and laughed.
CHAPTER THIRTY
PLEA
Ikissed her because I’m in love with her.
I kissed her because I’m in love with her.
I kissed her because I’m in love with her.
I was trying very hard to keep the smile from my lips, to keep my eyes downcast. My heart felt like it had swollen to twice its size, and all I could do was stand there and try not to get lost in the commotion.
Luca loved me. Luca was in love with me.
Nic was gaping at him, like he was trying to assemble a puzzle on his brother’s forehead. Dom and Gino had fallen still – even Dom had shut his mouth. They were waiting for Luca to break, for the joke to be revealed.
After a few more loaded breaths, Nic spluttered into life again. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t believe you.’
‘It’s true,’ Luca said.
‘Since when?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘How?’ said Nic.
Luca’s smile was rueful, the guilt of the revelation tinged in his words. ‘You of all people should be able to answer that, brother.’
Nic screwed his face up. ‘But you used to find her so annoying.’
‘I still find her annoying.’
Nic narrowed his eyes. ‘You don’t deserve her.’
‘I know.’ Luca tilted his head, just a little, and it was as though I could read the rest of his response in the careful lift of his brow. Neither do you.
‘Bravissimo, boys.’ Felice clapped his hands together. ‘The blood of betrayal runs deep here at Evelina. I can’t say I’m surprised, given the DNA you all share. Now, a word from our female protagonist, Persephone, perhaps?’ He swivelled around to me, his face a mask of glee. ‘Do you, Persephone, in fact, love Gianluca or will you remain loyal to our beloved Nicoli, the one who has been so selflessly training you for your revenge, probably under the impression that he was winning you back? Just how deep does your deception run in this little charade?’
Felice was threading a line of guilt right into my soul. I had known my feelings for Luca would hurt Nic if they ever got out, but I hadn’t thought about it so starkly – at least not like that. I hadn’t really been thinking at all, just searching for that solace that I could get from Luca’s kiss, from his skin against mine, his breath against my ear … I looked to Luca, searchingly, but he was facing away, grinding his jaw. He would not play into Felice’s spectacle.
‘Can you show some respect?’ I hissed at Felice. ‘Clearly this isn’t funny, and it’s got nothing to do with you either.’
I was losing my footing – caught between wanting to respond directly to Luca, and wanting to run a million miles from the roomful of Falcone spectators.
‘What’s that, Persephone?’ said, Felice, wearing his classic expression of faux surprise. ‘Or should I start calling you Marilyn?’
‘What?’
‘Marilyn Monroe.’ He licked his lips. ‘I believe she slept with both Kennedy brothers, yes? And what happened to her then … ?’ He trailed off, tapping his chin.
‘She committed suicide,’ Gino said.
‘Nah. That’s what they want you to think. She was definitely murdered,’ Dom supplied.
‘Was she?’ Felice leered at me.
‘Enough!’ snapped Valentino.
‘Valentino!’ said Felice, shocked.
‘You cannot end a soap opera midway through. I want to watch the finale.’
‘Shut up,’ said Valentino, his weariness transforming into a biting cruelty. ‘Stop getting in their heads. It’s counterproductive.’
‘I am merely expressing curiosity,’ Felice pointed out.
‘Stronzate!’ Valentino levelled his uncle with a dark look, his finger raised in accusation. ‘You’re so full of shit, if you ever had an enema you’d evaporate into thin air.’
The laugh burst out of me before I could stop it. It joined a spate of other sounds of uneasy amusement. Suddenly everyone was clearing their throats.
Felice looked like he had been stabbed.
He curled his lip, his words now thick with rage. ‘How dare you speak to me like that, you insolent, incompetent, ill-prepared—’