“You didn’t ask. You ordered,” I correct, lowering my hands and clenching the napkin.
“Stand, or I will force you up.”
I yelp when he yanks the chair out, and I jerk forward.
“It’s up to you.” His voice grows harsher with each word. “You have five seconds to decide.”
Him and his five-second bullshit.
“Natalia, it’s easier to move seats, trust me,” Benny says, strolling into the dining room and sliding his phone into his pocket.
Heat creeps up my face at Benny witnessing our little breakfast game. As if this wasn’t awkward enough. No way am I moving now.
“Then, I suggest you do it yourself,” I bite out.
Benny groans and throws his head back.
It happens so fast. Cristian moves my chair next to his. He doesn’t bother sliding the two that had separated us, so that brings me even closer to him.
“There,” Cristian says, rubbing his hands together as if he just finished a job. “That’s better.”
Benny shakes his head and takes the seat opposite Cristian. Benny is his father’s son through and through, but while Cristian’s soul is nothing but evil, Benny has a sliver of integrity. I’m sure that’ll change the more he’s sucked into this life. Vinny was the same.
Italian ancestry runs deep in Benny’s blood, and it shows. He’s a growing carbon copy of his father: similar height, black hair as dark as mine, and sporting a small amount of facial hair.
Cristian picks up his newspaper, as if what just happened was no big deal.
Gretchen, one of their housekeepers who’s around my age, walks into the room—as if she’d been waiting for the scene to end before interrupting.
“Miss Natalia and Benny, we have fresh-squeezed orange juice on the table,” she says, her voice chipper. “If you’d like a coffee, I can bring that for you.”
“I’ll stick with the orange juice,” I answer with a smile.
“I’ll have a coffee. How I normally take it.” Benny winks at her.
“Of course,” she says, flashing Benny a smile. “Coffee coming right up.”
“Keep your hands to yourself with Gretchen,” Cristian grumbles to his son when the woman leaves the room.
“What are you talking about?” Benny asks.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. If I have one more employee quit or attempt to kill themselves because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants, your ass will serve me coffee.”
Benny snags a slice of bacon and turns his attention to me. “Natalia, my dad said Vinny is giving you trouble.”
I nod. “Trouble is an understatement.”
“What kind of trouble?”
I sigh, wondering how much I want to say. “Showing up at my house, the gallery, threatening texts galore. I changed my number so he’d stop, but somehow, he figured out the new one. As soon as I discovered the bounty on my head, I came here.”
I rented a hotel room a few times but found someone following me. I asked Bonnie—my boss at the art gallery I work at—for a few days off so I could hide from Vinny until I figured out a plan. That plan ended up with me begging for Cristian’s protection.
“Let me see the texts,” Benny says, holding out his hand.
I pull out my phone from my dress pocket and hand it over to him.
He reads Vinny’s string of text messages out loud.
Vinny: Natalia, make this right, or I will END YOU.
Vinny: I’m sorry, baby. I’m just going crazy over losing you.
That one causes Cristian to scoff.
Vinny: SWEAR TO GOD, IF I SEE YOU WITH ANOTHER MAN, I WILL SLIT BOTH OF YOUR THROATS. HIM FIRST, SO YOU CAN WATCH HIM BLEED OUT.
Vinny: I’m sorry, baby. Please call me back.
Vinny: My father knows you know too much. You know what he does with people like that. If you keep ignoring me, then say good-bye to your life.
Vinny: CRISTIAN MARCHETTI? YOU FUCKING CUNT. You’d better count your days.
Cristian releases a cruel laugh at that one.
He and Vinny are definitely in the running for the Craziest Psychopath award.
Cristian plucks my phone out of Benny’s hand, throws it on the ground, stands, and slams his foot onto it. The screen cracks and pieces fall off. Then he picks up the phone and drops it into the orange juice decanter.
“What the hell?” I shriek. “Why would you break my phone?”
Cristian straightens his sleeves and sits back down. “Buy a new one.”
“Like I have the money to waste on a new phone when I had a perfectly good one.”
Cristian relaxes in his chair. “I’ll buy you a new one.”
I roll my eyes. “The last thing I need is to be more in debt to you.”
Cristian runs his thumb over the handle of his coffee cup. “Consider it a favor for the less fortunate.”
I reach for the decanter, stick my hand inside, and extract my phone from the orange juice. “Every favor has a price … isn’t that your motto?”
“Eat.” Cristian snatches the entire bowl of eggs and dumps it onto my plate. “That will keep your mouth busy, so you’ll shut the fuck up for a minute.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Is it poisoned now that you got the info out of me?”
“Poisoning eggs is too boring of a way to kill someone.”
“My dad probably won’t kill you, Natalia,” Benny says. “It’ll make my sister mad, and my sister is the only person’s feelings my father cares about hurting.”
Probably doesn’t sound too promising.
“Gigi doesn’t need to know everything,” Cristian comments with a shrug.
“I’m surprised Gigi doesn’t know about your little romantic candlelit dinner last night,” Benny adds.
“Romantic dinner? Whoa,” I say, holding up my hand and shaking my head. “There was no romantic dinner.”
“That’s not what I heard.” Benny gestures to my broken phone. “It seems that isn’t what Vinny heard either. My father not killing you doesn’t mean you’re protected.”
“That’s not what your father said,” I say, shooting a quick glance to Crisitan.
Benny shakes his head repeatedly. “We protect no one unless they’re family.”
I grab my fork, needing something to do with my hands, and play with my eggs. “Can’t you … adopt me or something?”
Benny snorts.
“I’d never have a daughter stupid enough to date a Lombardi,” Cristian says. “Try again.”
“You can marry into the family, though,” Benny says with a smirk.
My eyes widen. “W-what?”
Benny’s eyes are on Cristian now. “She can marry into our family.”
“Benny,” Cristian warns, “I’m going to poison your fucking food if you don’t shut your mouth.”
“Marry me,” Benny says to me.
Cristian slams his hand down onto the table. “Benny, I swear to God. Your name might be on the goddamn family tree, but that doesn’t mean you’re protected right now. I’ll smash your face into that plate of food.”
Benny acts as if his father threatening him with violence isn’t out of the ordinary. “It’s true. Vinny doesn’t just want her dead now. He wants her alive, meaning he plans to torture her, and technically, he has the free will to do so.”