Page 69 of Bene

“Nothing changes, that’s what it means.”

“You’re going to be my wife.”

“And until then, I am still Vanna Falco. I will do what I want, when I want, and how I fucking want, Mario. It’s the least you can give to me after all this.”

“Like what, going to the stupid college?”

God.

He called it stupid like he understood.

As though he knew her hopes and dreams.

“Or my penthouse,” she replied. “Nothing changes until it has to. Otherwise, I’ll make your life a living hell.”

“Don’t threaten me.”

“You keep using that word.”

His gaze narrowed.

She smiled.

“But it doesn’t mean what you think it does,” she added quieter, “now excuse me.”

She left him fuming behind her.

No doubt, she would pay for that.

Eventually.

Vanna made it through the night of the dinner—and Mario’s news—and then Saturday. But barely. She was still trying to process; still trying to figure out how this changed her plans, the vendetta … her entire fucking life.

And then she just didn’t want to do anything.

She didn’t want to think.

Or feel.

Or be.

None of it.

So, instead of wallowing in her penthouse for another lonely night, she decided to do the exact opposite. Something that might very well get her into trouble, if Mario found out, but hadn’t she been playing with fire a lot lately, anyway?

What did it matter?

Vanna was ready to be burned.

What better way than Bene Guzzi?

No questions asked, she sent Bene a text, asked him to meet up with her at a café a few blocks away from her penthouse, and he was there within the hour.

He took one look at her.

Saw the sadness.

Asked, “What happened?”