“Wait, so . . .”
“She thought it would give me closure,” he scoffs. “Why would I want to read about how my best fucking friend was sleeping with my fiancée? We grew up together for Christ’s sake. He was like a brother to me. And that self-absorbed asshole had the nerve to keep a diary of his affair, like it was his latest art piece.”
I blow a deep breath between my lips.
Ace stops talking, breathing hard like he needs a moment. The pieces of the puzzle are coming together one by one. Ace was never the one in love with a woman he couldn’t have. He wasn’t obsessed with Kerenza. He wasn’t sneaking around with another man’s woman – they were sneaking around on him.
“Fucking Gianluca,” he says, shaking his head. “I could give two shits about losing Kerenza. Marrying her would’ve been a huge mistake. I realize that now. And in retrospect, she was probably always going to fuck me over. Just never thought she’d do it with my best friend of all people; the one person who was closer to me than all of my brothers combined.”
“Gianluca?” My eyes search his. “His name . . . is Gianluca?”
It’s not a name a person hears everyday, but this is New York, and there are millions of people living in this area. It wouldn’t be unusual for there to be a couple of Gianlucas in the mix.
“You know him?” Ace breathes harder, faster.
“I . . . I don’t know?” I lift my brows. “Is he a photographer?”
“Jesus.” Ace exhales, stepping away, dragging his hand hard across his face. “Have you worked with him on set or something?”
“No,” I shake my head, knowing this isn’t going to end well. At least not for Gianluca. “Just met him tonight. He . . . he came with Topaz . . . he’s in there.”
Ace turns from me, staring hard into the reception room.
“Figlio di puttana,” he mutters under his breath, fists clenched at his sides. I’m not sure what it means, but I’m sure it’s nothing pleasant. He looks like a bull getting ready to charge, but I can’t let him ruin Wren’s reception.
Placing my hand on his arm, I grip tight. “Stop. Don’t go in there. Please. Whatever you need to say to him, please save it. Or take it outside. I can’t let you cause a scene. Not here. Not tonight.”
Ace’s eyes are dark, his jaw tensing as he stares hard, eyes trained on his laughing, carefree ex-comrade putting the moves on my best friend.
Topaz glances up, and I wonder if she’s been checking on us off and on this whole time. I watch as she excuses herself from the table and rushes to the hall.
“Everything okay out here?” she asks.
Ace doesn’t answer, and Topaz gives me a look.
“Gianluca and Ace have a past,” I say, words dry and pointed.
“Oh, lord.” Topaz folds her arms across her chest, turning to look at Gianluca, who’s now chatting up my mother. “I sure know how to pick ‘em, don’t I?”
I place a hand on Topaz’s shoulder. “I don’t want to cause a scene. Can you call him out here? I think the two of them need to talk. Let’s take them out front.”
Topaz nods, leaving, and I pull Ace through the restaurant and toward the front façade of the building, beneath a green awning.
He paces as we wait, charging back and forth like a caged animal, dragging his hands through his hair.
The glass door swings open a minute later. It’s Topaz, followed by her date, the man of the hour. My heart stops cold when the two of them lock eyes, and they might as well be locking horns.
“Alessio,” Gianluca says. “It’s been a long time.”
Ace scowls, his forehead covered in harsh lines and his eyes dark like midnight.
“You come here to try and kill me again, or did you not learn your lesson last time?” Gianluca’s lips form a smug smile and he widens his stance, crossing his arms across his chest. He isn’t as big as Ace. He’s not as muscular either. He’s in shape, but his body is lean, like a runner who does the occasional push up.
I can tell Ace intimidates him, as there’s a small twitch in Gianluca’s left eye and his chest is slightly puffed. Given everything I’ve read and everything that’s come to light, Gianluca has good reason to be shaking in his motorcycle boots.
He betrayed his best friend in the worst way imaginable.
He should be terrified.
“Vigliacco senza spina dorsale.” Ace charges toward Gianluca, his face twisted and red. His fist is clenched, lifted, and inches from the side of Gianluca’s beautiful face, but Gianluca doesn’t flinch.
“Non la meritavi,” Gianluca spits back, expression hard.
“E che hai fatto?” Ace growls, jaw flexing. His stance is wide, but I can tell it’s taking everything he has not to come in for the kill. “Non importa ora. Ho perso un fratello. Un migliore amico. Mi hai tradito.”
“Non mi dispiace di essermi innamorato di lei.” Gianluca folds his arms tight across his chest.
“God, we need a translator,” Topaz mumbles as the two of them continue their exchange.
I’m completely lost. I have no idea what they’re saying, but I see pain in Ace’s eyes and a smug arrogance in Gianluca’s, and that breaks my heart.
A dark-haired, middle-aged woman in a leopard print jacket passes by, stopping for the spectacle on the sidewalk. Taking a step aside, she stops and watches, her deep-set eyes growing wider and rounder with each word that flies from the mouths of these angry beasts.
“Dio mio,” she says, shaking her head and making the sign of the cross.
“Do you know what they’re saying?” Topaz asks.
The woman nods. “It’s not good. Not good at all . . . That one betrayed that one . . . he stole his fiancée . . . they both loved her since they were kids . . . they all grew up together . . . forgiveness is out of the question . . . the long-haired one is apologizing but the other one won’t have it . . . the sorry one says he’s not sorry for loving the girl, he’s only sorry for hurting the only brother he ever had . . . the tall one says he’s still dead to him and will always be . . . and he’s telling him to stay out of his life . . . and away from his girlfriend . . .”
I glance at Topaz, and she lifts her brows.
“You two are back together?” she whispers.
“It’s looking that way.” Shrugging, I turn back to the men. Ace has backed off a bit, that cherry color leaving his face and his complexion returning to its natural warm tan.
“Ma vaffanculo, traditore.” Ace hurls his final words at Gianluca and waves him off, slicing his hand through the air and making a fist as he walks toward me. Gianluca leaves, head held high. He doesn’t so much as look at Topaz. Climbing onto a parked Ducati, he starts it up and peels off.
The Italian woman watches us all, shrugs, and then heads inside the restaurant.
“There goes my date.” Topaz sighs from the corner of her mouth as she watches the Ducati disappear into a cocktail of headlights and traffic.
“I’m so sorry.” I rub the side of her arm.
Topaz tilts her head, eyes fixed on the cracked sidewalk beneath us. “It’s fine. Beautiful assholes aren’t really my type anyway. Kind of got the impression he was a little bit of a man-whore anyway.” She glances at Ace as he takes heavy strides in our direction. “All right. I need a drink. I’m going to head in and let you two talk.”