I frowned. “Did you teach my wife how to call me a dickhead in Italian?”
“No, but I should.” He flashed a smile at the server as she set his drink in front of him. “If she had any smarts, she’d kick your ass for the way you treated her.”
“For the way I treated her?” I leaned forward in my seat. “You didn’t see what she was doing tonight.”
“And you didn’t see what she did when we dragged your ass onto that plane. Do you even have a fucking clue what she went through? What they did to her?”
The blood drained from my face, and I sat up straighter, a new sense of fear coursing through me. “You said they didn’t touch her.”
“I downplayed it for you so you wouldn’t lose your fucking shit. They kidnapped her, they drugged her, they threw her in the back of a van, then locked her in a cell at that mansion. Then your mother went in, was all buddy-buddy with her and made Natalie follow her to that balcony, the whole time telling her you were waiting for her. And when she got there, when she saw what they were doing to you and tried to look away, they wouldn’t let her. They made her watch the whole damn thing, and then they had to restrain her while they strung you up and flogged you right in front of her because she was so hysterical. She couldn’t do a single thing to help you, and when it was over, they threw her in another pitch-black cell and made her relive the nightmare in her head without telling her what they’d done with you.”
My heart raced so fast I was afraid it might fly right out of my chest.
Marco sipped his whisky and glared at me from across the table. “She thought you were dead. They fucked with her head way more than they ever fucked with your body. And then do you know what she did?”
I swallowed hard, almost afraid to hear the rest. “No. What?”
“She got on that plane and was a solid rock while Felicity stitched up your back. She held your hand and whispered reassuring words in your ear to keep you calm when you were fighting the drugs and us. And she didn’t break. Not once. She could have. Any normal woman would have completely fucking lost it after the hell they put her through, but not her. She nursed you back to health, and she took care of you, even when you were all twisted up in your head over what happened and pushed her away. She never wavered in her loyalty to you. She never gave up on you. She supported you every step along the way, just as she did tonight. And do you know why she did that tonight? Why she was nice to your family?”
When I didn’t answer, he leaned forward and pinned me with hard eyes. “Because you couldn’t fucking do it. Do you think she wanted to be there? Do you think she enjoyed that for one single second? She hates them more than you do, Luc. She despises them not just because of what they did to you, but because they’re your family and families are supposed to love each other, and yours clearly doesn’t. She would have gladly traded places with you in that ritual to save you that pain and humiliation, but she couldn’t. And she played nice with your family tonight to keep the peace so they wouldn’t have any reason to do it again.”
He leaned back against the booth. “So, yeah. You’re a dickhead. You’re a giant minchione because you’re sitting here like a pussy, feeling sorry for yourself, when she’s back at the villa suffering. You have no idea what she’s been through, what she’s still going through, all because she loves you, you dumbass. And if I didn’t love you like a brother, I’d beat that into your head with my fist.”
My heart slammed against my ribs as I stared at him. Everything he’d said was true, but all I could think about was Natalie alone in that dark cell, going out of her mind because she didn’t know where I was or what was happening to me.
If it had been me... If our situations had been reversed, I would have lost it. I never would have had the strength to hold it together and take care of her the way she’d taken care of me.
“Cazzo.” I grasped my wallet from my back pocket and dropped money on the table as I pushed out of the booth.
“Where are you going?” Marco asked casually as he sipped his drink.
“To talk to her.”
“You sure talking’s a good idea? She was pretty steamed when I left her.”
I faltered because he was right.
She’d been livid when she’d climbed out of the car and slammed the door. And now that she’d had time to think about what a dick I was, she was probably ready to tear my head off.
My mind spun. “I need to borrow the golf cart at the estate.”
He frowned up at me. “We took down that romantic tent you set up in the woods for your honeymoon night.”
“I know. I have something else in mind.”
“She’s not going to want to go anywhere with you after the last few hours.”
I knew she wouldn’t. But I also knew that regardless of what an ass I’d been, she still loved me.
I was determined to prove to her that I’d never forget that.
She was sound asleep on the couch when I quietly entered the cottage. My heart stuttered as I closed the door softly and dropped the keys on the entry table.
I didn’t move right to her as I wanted to do. I left her sleeping and stepped into the bedroom to grab the gift I’d gotten for her before our wedding and left in the bottom drawer of my dresser.
Her steady breaths echoed in the room as I crossed back to her and knelt on the floor in front of the couch. She looked like an angel curled up under the throw blanket. And although I knew she was tired, I didn’t want to let this ugliness I’d caused fester between us.
She was right. The only way we were going to make it was to be honest with each other. I didn’t want a marriage like my parents’. I wanted her—the way she’d been in Rome, fiery and challenging; the way she’d been in Venice, trusting and passionate; the way she’d been in Scotland, my strength and my salvation, every single day, even when I didn’t deserve her.
I brushed the hair back from her temple and whispered her name, even though I really wanted to wake her with my lips. “Angioletto?” I said, doing it again. “Wake up.”
She sucked in a breath, and her eyes shot open. The second she focused on me, she sat straight up. “Luc. Are you...? How did you...? Where—”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry I was such a jerk. Forgive me, please.”
She stared down at me in the dark, and for a heartbeat, I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Then tears filled her eyes, and she said, “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean what I said. I just—”
I wrapped my hand around her nape and pulled her mouth toward mine. And when our lips met, she opened and let me in. Let me kiss her and taste her and savor her sweetness. Then she slid off the couch and crawled onto my lap, holding me close while I drank her in.
I drew back and rested my forehead against hers, breathless and aching for more. “I should have realized what you were doing tonight instead of letting my emotions get away from me. I’m sorry, angioletto. I know you were just trying to make things easier. I just… They make me insane. When I’m near them, I—”
“I hate them.” She pressed a hand against my chest. “I wanted to tear their tongues out at dinner and stab my fork through their eyes. But I was afraid if we confronted them—”