out.
“And he's a dangerous one,” Armo replied before Gaige could continue. “He is not a man for you to mess with, figlio. He would snap you in two before you could finish your sentence, but we are not discussing Enzio Romano. We are discussing Carlo Rosso, and I want to know how dangerous the assassino is before we make any choices. Darien?” He turned his attention back to Darien.
He looked disinterested, probably because he'd already told him how dangerous he is. “When Carlo was ten, he was hunting better than associates twice his age. When he was twelve, I watched him beat a sixteen year old boy from a rival family into tomato puree because he tried to take Adriana. Carlo had barely touched puberty, and that boy should have ripped him to pieces, but he couldn't.” Darien reached forward and sipped his water.
Everyone held a stunned silence. Armo, Matias, Angelo, even Gaige... no one moved. I don't even think they breathed as they took in what Darien was telling them.
But me? I wasn't fazed. In fact, I looked up at met Darien's eyes as he set his glass back down on the table. I knew these stories. I remembered them clearly, because I played them over and over in my head as we drove across the country. Even after we were settled, I would think of the boy with the steel knuckles, as I teased him, who took every blow and kick and hit that was meant for me.
“Once, when he was fourteen, and Adriana was twelve, another rival boy tried to lure her to where associates were waiting to kidnap her for ransom.” Darien cracked his knuckles, then his lips tugged to one side as he dragged his gaze from me to Armo. “Carlo Rosso broke his arm in three moves and left him lying on the street, bleeding and crying, while he ran with Adriana. Then the week before we left New York, I took him on a hunt, and he shot a moving stag between the eyes. So is he dangerous?” He laughed now, and I wanted to, but all I felt was a dull ache. Darien killed his laugh as quickly as he'd started it, and the room went cold. “Yes. Carlo Rosso is one of the most dangerous young men I've ever met, but he's loyal to a fault. If he wants to protect Adriana, I have no doubt he would kill an army of twenty men with his bare hands.”
“But how do we know where his loyalty lies?” Gaige asked. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides, and I didn't dare look at him.
I was too scared he'd see the sadness I felt. Because hearing those things about Hunter? They'd scare anyone else. They'd disgust them. I knew different, though. Darien was right. He was protecting me, every single time.
I'd always been a target as a child. That was the plight of the mafioso principessa. I was destined to be hot property for as long as I lived, but Hunter was my own personal bodyguard. I can barely remember a time that he wasn't by my side when I left the stronghold of the Romano family.
Gaige walked forward and dropped into a chair. The slam of his fist on the table drew me out of my own head, and I sucked my lower lip into my mouth. “We don't know where his loyalty lies,” he snapped. “If it's with Adriana, then fucking perfect, she's got herself a bodyguard. If not, she's got herself a target on her goddamn back.”
“Out.” Armo said the word so sharply that he left no doubt as to its meaning... its demand. “Gaige. Out. You cannot participate in this conversation unless you are calm.”
Gaige clenched his jaw, but he didn't argue. He got up and slammed his chair away from him, making it fall to the floor, and stormed around the table. His hand brushed my shoulder as he passed me and went out of the dining room. The door closed with a finality that sung of his frustration.
“I apologize for his demeanor.” Armo looked directly at me with his words. “He struggles to see past his feelings for you sometimes.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came out. I honestly had no idea how to respond to that. When it became clear I wasn't going
“And he's a dangerous one,” Armo replied before Gaige could continue. “He is not a man for you to mess with, figlio. He would snap you in two before you could finish your sentence, but we are not discussing Enzio Romano. We are discussing Carlo Rosso, and I want to know how dangerous the assassino is before we make any choices. Darien?” He turned his attention back to Darien.
He looked disinterested, probably because he'd already told him how dangerous he is. “When Carlo was ten, he was hunting better than associates twice his age. When he was twelve, I watched him beat a sixteen year old boy from a rival family into tomato puree because he tried to take Adriana. Carlo had barely touched puberty, and that boy should have ripped him to pieces, but he couldn't.” Darien reached forward and sipped his water.
Everyone held a stunned silence. Armo, Matias, Angelo, even Gaige... no one moved. I don't even think they breathed as they took in what Darien was telling them.
But me? I wasn't fazed. In fact, I looked up at met Darien's eyes as he set his glass back down on the table. I knew these stories. I remembered them clearly, because I played them over and over in my head as we drove across the country. Even after we were settled, I would think of the boy with the steel knuckles, as I teased him, who took every blow and kick and hit that was meant for me.
“Once, when he was fourteen, and Adriana was twelve, another rival boy tried to lure her to where associates were waiting to kidnap her for ransom.” Darien cracked his knuckles, then his lips tugged to one side as he dragged his gaze from me to Armo. “Carlo Rosso broke his arm in three moves and left him lying on the street, bleeding and crying, while he ran with Adriana. Then the week before we left New York, I took him on a hunt, and he shot a moving stag between the eyes. So is he dangerous?” He laughed now, and I wanted to, but all I felt was a dull ache. Darien killed his laugh as quickly as he'd started it, and the room went cold. “Yes. Carlo Rosso is one of the most dangerous young men I've ever met, but he's loyal to a fault. If he wants to protect Adriana, I have no doubt he would kill an army of twenty men with his bare hands.”
“But how do we know where his loyalty lies?” Gaige asked. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides, and I didn't dare look at him.
I was too scared he'd see the sadness I felt. Because hearing those things about Hunter? They'd scare anyone else. They'd disgust them. I knew different, though. Darien was right. He was protecting me, every single time.
I'd always been a target as a child. That was the plight of the mafioso principessa. I was destined to be hot property for as long as I lived, but Hunter was my own personal bodyguard. I can barely remember a time that he wasn't by my side when I left the stronghold of the Romano family.
Gaige walked forward and dropped into a chair. The slam of his fist on the table drew me out of my own head, and I sucked my lower lip into my mouth. “We don't know where his loyalty lies,” he snapped. “If it's with Adriana, then fucking perfect, she's got herself a bodyguard. If not, she's got herself a target on her goddamn back.”
“Out.” Armo said the word so sharply that he left no doubt as to its meaning... its demand. “Gaige. Out. You cannot participate in this conversation unless you are calm.”
Gaige clenched his jaw, but he didn't argue. He got up and slammed his chair away from him, making it fall to the floor, and stormed around the table. His hand brushed my shoulder as he passed me and went out of the dining room. The door closed with a finality that sung of his frustration.
“I apologize for his demeanor.” Armo looked directly at me with his words. “He struggles to see past his feelings for you sometimes.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came out. I honestly had no idea how to respond to that. When it became clear I wasn't going
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