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"If I'm marrying you, it is."
Oh Lord. Please don't start with that crap right now. My father's stupid theory that I will marry the son of his dead best friend drives me crazy. Renzo is twelve years older than me, and I have no interest or attraction to him at all.
Foster's back goes stiff and his arms flare out. He glances over his shoulder at me and I give him a smirk to let him know it's bullshit.
"I am never marrying you and please don't say stupid stuff like that."
Renzo isn't looking at me. He's scrutinizing Foster. "He looks familiar." Renzo scratches his chin and slants his head to the side.
"You guys, please. Just leave. And don't tell Dad, okay?" I grab Foster's shoulder and try to pull him up the stairs, but he's rigid as a rock as he faces off with Donnie. He's challenging him with his eyes, and Donnie keeps looking away. He's seen Foster in the ring and knows the damage he would do to Donnie's face.
"Don't you know about him?" Donnie asks me.
A low growl rolls from deep in Foster's throat and vibrates through my fingers. He's like a motorcycle revving and ready to take off.
"The guy's a loser, Milana. Don't let him get in there like that." Donnie points at Foster and shakes his head.
"Shut the fuck up, Donnie," Foster says as he takes one step down the stairs and I lose contact with his shoulder.
Donnie moves behind Renzo, who is still standing in one spot, shocked and speechless to see me with another guy.
"You gonna make me do it, Foster? You forcing my hand?" Donnie says, and I'm lost. How do they know each other?
"Give it your best shot." Foster is not backing down.
Oh no. This is going to end in a fight. I can feel it.
"He's a drug dealer, Milana," Donnie blurts out.
"Shut your fucking mouth right now, or I'll shove your goddamn teeth down your throat." Foster presses one hand into the other to pop his knuckles.
"He wants in on the Bianchi business. He's working for me trying to get Dad's attention." Donnie sounds like a little kid ratting out a friend to get even.
Wait. Foster is working for Donnie? "You're selling drugs?" I ask my brother.
"Just a little pot," he answers.
"Just a little pot? And he's delivering it for you? All this is going on and nobody told me?" I can't believe what Donnie is saying. It has to be a lie. "Is that true, Foster?"
"I got pictures," Donnie says and Foster lowers his head.
Oh my God. It's true?
"You know what?" Renzo snaps out of his daze. "I remember this guy. Is this the guy who hit on you at a party and Donnie threw his ass in the pool?"
Foster looks to the ceiling and groans.
"What are you talking about?" I ask Renzo.
"A long time ago, but I'll never forget that little shit. Hitting on you and you were only fifteen. Donnie chucked his ass in the pool."
"I remember that night," Donnie says. "Was that you, Foster?"
Now we're all staring at Foster.
He takes three steps down the stairs and faces Donnie straight on. "Wanna try it again now?"
Donnie would be smart to back down now, but he keeps it up. "You're the same guy? Have you been stalking her?"
