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My dad for dying.
And myself for being helpless to change anything, but most of all, I resent Severio, who’s the last person standing with me at the gravesite after everyone else clears out. Almost everyone. A pair of gravediggers shovel dirt, while Severio’s guards spread out in a wide circle around us.
It reminds me of the day we met. That day, Severio secured a perimeter so we could speak alone. Effortlessly, he creates these bubbles, fences, pockets of controlled environments where he gets to do whatever he wants with whomever he’s trapped inside.
The Order is one such place Severio created. A wealth machine that he oils once in a while and then hands over to others to run. If he could, or maybe he can, he’d trap the entire world.
Most people think world dominion is just a cool phrase, but for men like Severio, domination is their reason for existing and a goal well within reach.
He stands closer and brushes his knuckles over my arm, raising goose bumps over my skin.
Don’t touch me. Touch me more.
I cross my arms over my chest. “Hope you enjoyed the fruits of your devious labor.” I’m referencing Gio’s death and the subsequent funerals of anyone connected with the coup.
“Immensely. Have you heard from your father?”
If my father hadn’t died of natural causes, Severio would’ve killed him too. I have no doubt about it, which makes me grateful that Daddy passed away on his own, instead of giving Severio the pleasure of controlling his destiny. “No. You?”
And if my dad faked his death as Severio has suggested, I can’t blame him for that either. I only wished he took me and my mom with him. I wish he took better care of the two of us he left behind. If he’s indeed alive, I wonder why he left us the way he did. I guess he thought Gio would have a chance against Severio, and he and Gio could rule together at some point.
But that’s because Daddy’s never spent time with Severio.
If he had, he’d know that Gio didn’t stand a chance. Nobody stands a chance against Severio. Whoever named him chose perfectly.
When Severio doesn’t answer, I look up and immediately regret it. Severio’s chin-length hair is pulled back, revealing his beautiful profile. One can clearly trace the straight nose, the high cheekbone, the hard-edged jaw.
I forgot what looking at him does to me. It makes me hurt all over. Hating Severio Mancini hurts the way love hurts. The hollowness in my chest, the nausea in my belly, the nostalgia in my mind. “For all you know, my dad entered witness protection and is actively working with the authorities to bring you down.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“I would.”
Severio chuckles, but quietly, respectful of the dead. “He’s not in witness protection.”
“How do you know?”
“You might recall this thing called the Serpentine Order, where we have members in government positions. They’re called Rattles. The reason they’re called that is because they sound the alarm when the Order is compromised. Your father’s presence would raise an alarm.”
“If you wanted me to learn more about the Order, maybe you should’ve sent me the manual.”
“I was your manual.” He turns toward me, those clear blue eyes drilling a hole in my soul. “You could’ve asked me anything. Still can, if you’re curious.”
He’s a beautiful man. I don’t want to stare, but I can’t look away. He’s my personal train wreck.
“I’m staying at the villa again,” he continues.
“I know where you are.” When he smirks, I roll my eyes and add, “Don’t make stalking jokes.”
“Fine, I won’t. You probably also know I had bulletproof glass installed on the terrace. Don’t be afraid to stop by.”
He’s inviting me over. “Something is different about you today.”
He bites his lower lip, releases it, and swipes it with his tongue. “During the mission, my parachute wouldn’t deploy.”
I gasp. “Thank God you made it.” The moment it comes out of my mouth and Severio smugly smirks, I wish I could take it back. He baited me. Jerk.
“I took it as a sign I need to rework my priorities.”
