AllFreeNovel
Share Us
FALLON
“Pleasure to meet you both,” I say as politely as possible, forcing a smile on my face. Leone’s father has an intimidating presence that makes me want to shrink back and hide. His eyes, cold and calculating, reminds me of a predator sizing up its prey. While Dante’s eyes trail up and down my body, his smirk grows wider with each passing second. I had seen looks like these before from some of the perverted patrons at the casino, but something about Dante’s gaze makes my skin crawl. I can practically feel his eyes undressing me, and I fight the urge to tell him where to go. Instead, I meet his gaze head-on, refusing to show how much he terrifies me.
“It’s a shame I didn’t meet her sooner, Leone. We could have had some fun together.”
“I don’t think so,” I answer.
“Well, isn’t she a feisty one?” Dante purrs, sitting and leaning back in his chair like the head of Leone’s empire.
Anger flares within me as he speaks, but I bite my tongue. Though I am very much tempted, I know better than to provoke a man like him. Instead, I force a cold smile and extend my hand. “But as I said, it’s... nice to meet you,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Don’t mind, my brother,” Leone interjects, squeezing my waist just a little too tightly for comfort and ripping me back before Dante could take my hand. “He’s all bark and no bite.”
Dante narrows his eyes at Leone’s words but says nothing.
“Sit down, Fallon,” Leone says, offering me the seat next to him. Maria comes out and asks if Dante and Vittorio are staying for breakfast, which they quickly agree to, even though I heard Vittorio demand it in the hall on his way in here. Still, it’s clear that Maria only answers to Leone because she doesn’t move until Leone nods.
I take my seat, trying to keep my trembling legs hidden under the table. The atmosphere in the room has shifted dramatically. The walls seem to be closing in on me, suffocating me. I glance around the room, taking in the extravagant decorations and expensive artwork; it all feels like a facade for the violence and corruption that lurks in every corner of this place.
The breakfast conversation is stiff and uncomfortable as hell. Dante continuously finding excuses to touch me “accidentally,” and every time he does, I can feel Leone tense up beside me.
The air between them is thick with tension, and I wish more than anything to be far away from this whole situation when the conversation shifts, the room grows tenser, and I tune back into my surroundings, not liking Dante’s tone of voice.
“Clearly, he wasn’t thinking, father. He’s proven that by marrying some whore he barely knows,” Dante states, and I bristle at being called a whore. Milo’s hand clenches the knife he is holding, his eyes warning me to not react to his words, but fuck that. I am not being called a whore by the likes of him, but before I can even say a thing, Leone speaks.
“Watch your fucking mouth, Dante. You don’t know shit about her,” Leone growls, his grip on my thigh clenching so tight I bite back a hiss.
“Oh, I know exactly what she is, Leone,” Dante smirks.
“Dante, that’s enough,” Milo all but growls at him, and Leone sits back in his chair.
“Fallon is my wife, and I expect you to treat her as such or so help me god….”
“You’ll what? Kill me and sever the only ties we have with Mexicans. I wonder how they will feel knowing their business is run by someone who would turn on their family for some whore he found god only knows where,” Dante scoffs.
Leone’s reaction is swift and brutal. Before anyone can blink, his knife slashes down, plunging through Dante’s hand and into the table beneath. Dante’s scream slices through the air, raw and horrifying. He frantically tries to pull the knife out, Leone leans forward and twists it, eliciting another ear-piercing scream from Dante, who now looks pale. His face contorted in pain, and he is teetering on the edge of consciousness.
Vittorio, who watches the scene unfold unperturbed, finally speaks, his voice low but firm. “Leone, enough. Stop torturing your brother.”
Without missing a beat, Leone locks eyes with his father, the knife still embedded in Dante’s hand. “This isn’t torture, Father. It’s a lesson,” he says, his tone chillingly calm.
The tension in the room is palpable. “A lesson in what, son? That he bleeds?” Vittorio scoffs.
“It’s about understanding consequences—a lesson you might have spared Dante, but you never spared me,” he says coldly. “In my house, actions have weight, and no one, not even Dante, is exempt from that law.”
Dante, his face ghostly pale and slick with sweat, gasps shallow breaths, looking like he might pass out at any moment from the pain and shock.
“Gentlemen, that’s enough!” Vittorio Pressutti bangs his fist on the table, startling me. “We’re here to discuss business, not your petty sibling rivalry.” He glares first at Dante, then Leone, who rips his knife from Dante’s hand. Maria rushes over with a new one. Dante snatches a napkin, wincing as he puts pressure on his bleeding hand.
“I don’t care about your personal issues, but when they start interfering with our plans, they become a problem.” Vittorio then turns his cold stare towards me.
“As for you, Fallon, I expect you to behave yourself and not cause any problems between my sons.” His voice is like ice, sending chills down my spine.
The tension in the room thickens further as Vittorio continues his rant. “Just when I thought your days of disastrous decisions ended with Lydia. Now you and your brother are already at each other’s throats over another whore. How you manage to sink lower each time is truly a talent.” His sneering tone cuts through the air like Leone’s knife cut through Dante’s hand and the table.
I can see the muscles in Leone’s jaw tighten, his anger barely contained. This isn’t just an insult to me, but it’s a blow to every decision of Leone’s, mocking his past and present choices. Vittorio’s words hang heavy, filled with a venom that seemed designed to provoke, and I can’t help but be horrified that his own father would chastise him this way. It makes me far more grateful for the Presutti I have, even if I am partly in this mess because of him. At least he doesn’t pick sides or treat Emma and me like shit.
“Wow,” I let slip, louder than intended, my voice ringing with disgust over the unfolding drama.
