….The anger we swallow, is the acid that eats away at our souls
-Susan David.
NIKOLAS
I should have looked away the second I saw her walk through the doors of the dining area and felt my breath catch stubbornly in my throat.
I think it’s the dress, it’s too bloody perfect with its falling layers that mold themselves to her curves.
But it could just as easily be the way the light of the chandelier catches in her hair like fractures of shattered gold or that bloody knowing glint in her eye that only I seem to be able to see.
A glint that seems to say ‘I know something you don’t’.
I lift my glass to my lips and chug down the champagne so fast it burns my throat.
I should have looked away then but I didn’t and now I can’t seem to stop.
Across from me Earl is speaking to father about something regarding Frank and how he dealt with the situation.
Only my family would talk about murder while rolling pasta around their forks, but I am barely listening.
All of my attention is fixed on the woman by my brother’s side.
This dinner had not gone exactly how I had anticipated it would.
After my altercation with Earl in the garden, I headed straight for my car.
One part of me couldn’t believe Father was allowing Earl to go through with this.
But the other part of me knows the truth.
A heartless vampire with leather skin my father may be, yet the tiny part of him that is still flesh like the rest of us humans, is terrified that Earl will leave again.
And this time I do not think anything I do will be enough to stop his heart breaking.
I knew I could not stay in the house a second longer or I would do something stupid like fight Earl. But before I could get in the car Uncle Marco had found me.
“And just where exactly do you think you’re going, young man?”
I couldn’t hit my brother right then, but I needed to let go of the anger somehow or I was going to explode.
I whirled around, not realizing how close he was until our noses were almost touching.
“What the hell was that uncle?” I hissed, my hand pointing in the direction of the gazebo.
His last name may be different, but sometimes it feels like uncle Marco is more Salvatore than I am.
He is much shorter than I am but he hadn’t even blinked in the face of my anger.
Instead he had just clasped his hands in front of him and frowned at me. “What was what, Nikolas?”
Not even he had told Earl that he was being ridiculous. If anything, he even seemed to be supporting him.
Sometimes I truly wonder whose side he is actually on.
“There,” I had repeated, still pointing behind his head. “Back there where Earl all but practically spat in the family’s face yet again. A wife? A mysterious, nobody wife he found in a day? I mean just how much exactly are we going to let him get away with before we say enough?!”
So consumed was I by my rant that I hadn’t even noticed him moving his hand until it clipped me in the back of my head.
He pointed his finger in my face, his own voice completely level. “Don’t you raise your voice at me.”
I hadn’t responded. If I had, I would have said something I would regret. So instead I had just stared down at him, my chest rising and falling.
“Oh Nikolas.” He sighed, resting his hairy hand on my shoulder. “You are still so angry at your brother for leaving that it blinds you from seeing what is right in front of you.”
“I do not care about Earl’s disappearing act.” I had replied with a scoff, looking away and shrugging off his hand. “Perhaps once I did, but the Nikolas he left behind is long gone.”
“Then act like it.” My uncle had snapped back. “Your brother is only doing this to prove to your father and the other five heads that he is not the same irresponsible man who left here years ago.”
“By marrying someone nobody bloody knows?” I had said, dismissing the idea with a derisive snort.
“By settling down and starting his own family. And you with your tantrums and repressed rage are starting to appear less like his competition and more like a loose canon.”
“So what?” I asked, my jaw tight. “Am I supposed to just act like that woman isn’t most likely a plant from another family who managed to trap my darling brother?”
“Or maybe she didn’t trap him at all.”
I frown, his meaning dropping into my mind like a stone in the middle of a pond.
“What, are you saying that Earl could be faking all of this?”
In response, my uncle had simply lain his hand on my shoulder once more. “I’m saying find out who she is and use her to bring your brother down. Get your revenge for him turning his back on you all those years ago”
“I don’t care about Earl.” I had retorted, my voice hard. “I do what I do for this family, for our business.”
“Of course.” My uncle replied, nodding. “I can only hope that your brother also sees you as the non-threat that you think he is.”
I had frozen at the implication in his tone.
No, Earl may be callous but he would never hurt me.
Not deliberately at least.
But that was the Earl who left the minute he turned eighteen and never looked back until the day he needed us.
That was the Earl before the most important person in his life, the person who had taken him away from us had been brutally taken away from him.
I do not know this stranger walking around in my brother’s skin. I do not know what he is capable of doing.
He had killed Frank without batting an eyelid to secure his authority as the next Don. Could he hurt me too?
And if my uncle is right, would I need to hurt him first to protect myself?
Even now, seated at the table and looking at him, I still find it hard to believe.
And yet the doubt still snakes its way around my chest, squeezing and squeezing until I can barely breathe.
The glass cup in my hand shatters, the sound of it like a gunshot in the quiet room.
Everyone falls silent, their attention snapping towards me.
The sound of it has drawn Cara who immediately rushes to my side, while waving in another maid to clean up the mess.
The housekeeper coos at me.
“Signore Nikolas, your hand. It is bleeding. Come with me, I shall attend it immediately.”
Pushing away from the table, I smack my lips loudly together. “I think I have had my fill of dinner and pretense for one night.”
“Nikolas.” My uncle warns, but I ignore him.
Instead, I lift the stem of my broken flute towards my brother and his future wife. “May your marriage bring to you what exactly it is that you deserve.”
“Father, Uncle.” I say curtly, nodding at my Father and uncle Marco who is still glaring at me, and without another word stride out of the dining, my bleeding hand leaving dark red drops splattered across the hard wood floors.
I hope it stains.
Cara of course follows me, taking me firmly by the arm and leading me into the kitchen.
I could try to brush her off but it would be a waste of time.
She fetches the first aid box from a cabinet under the sink.
“Mi tesoro,” she sighs. “Tell me you did not do this on purpose”
She would never dare call us that in the presence of my father.
But now she does, and I look away, my jaw ticking.
I hadn’t.
But then again too, father was supposed to tear into shady Cameron and she was supposed to be leaving this house this night trembling in fear.
But none of that had happened.
Instead she had sat across the table from me, looking at me through her lashes and throwing jabs without the slightest hint of fear.
Who the hell is she?
And why does thinking about the way she had smirked at me make me want to…
“Ouch.” I exclaim and Cara tsks at me, as she pulls out a tiny shard of glass from my finger.
She slaps a bandage over the wound and closes the box with a loud click. “Now you try to make peace with your brother Nikolas. All this fighting.” she sighs, shaking her head and waving her hands.
“That’s none of your business Cara.” I grunt and for that I get a smack across the head with her trusty dishcloth.
She wags her finger at me, shaking her head. “You Salvatore boys, both so stubborn,” She cups my cheek in her rough, calloused hands. “Both hurting so much.”
I take my face out of her hand and look away.
Cara sighs and without another word, she leaves the kitchen.