Devil’s Thirst: A Mafia Stalker Romance (The Moretti Men Book 1)
Devil’s Thirst: Chapter 21

Past

I can’t take my eyes off her. While she dances, I wonder what she’s trying to escape in that bottle and how she’s doing it with such joy on her face. Like whatever is bothering her is inconsequential compared to the strength of her spirit.

If that wasn’t enough to mesmerize me, her body does the job. She moves like a fucking goddess. Never seen anything more beautiful. Even the tiniest sway of her hips and flick of her wrist is seductively graceful.

I have to force myself not to stare.

We meet again at the refreshment table sometime later. She’s playing this silly game as though we’re sneaking booze when my family knows damn well I’m drinking, and I doubt hers would care if they knew she was. She’s about my age, and we’re at a wedding. All Irish and Italian. Drinking’s in our blood. But this game she’s playing—it feels carefree. Like I’m not the biggest fuckup I know, and my father didn’t just try to kill me and my sister. It’s the first time I’ve felt like there’s hope that things won’t always be utter shit. Like maybe the tides are turning.

A hint of a smile ghosts across my lips as I hold her vibrant green gaze.

“Excuse me, I think this one is done for the night.” The bride strips the drink from Amelie’s hand, then glares daggers at me.

“What? Lina Bean, what are you talking about?” Amelie cries.

It pisses me off that this woman is upsetting her. “It’s all good. She’s fine.” I try to reach for Amelie, hoping to defuse the situation, but Amelie’s sister refuses to let me near her.

“You stay out of it. You’ve done enough.” She points an angry finger at me.

Then Renzo is behind me, his voice a threatening rumble of thunder. “Everything okay here?”

“This one’s been spiking my sister’s punch,” says the bride, motioning to me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Amelie open her mouth to argue. I shoot her a glare and give one sharp shake of my head.

She stills immediately at my command.

I raise my hands and give a lopsided grin. “It’s just a tiny bit of vodka. No need to make a big deal.”

“Can’t fuckin’ take you anywhere,” Renzo growls behind me, ready to believe the very worst in me. He’s been in a shit mood all day, begging for a fight. I’m happy to oblige if it means I take the heat off Amelie. Judging by her sister’s reaction, I was wrong about their tolerance of her drinking.

I turn to face him and sneer. “You mean you don’t ever want me to have any fun.” I’m not helping matters. I know that. But A, the alcohol is running its course, and two, this whole scene is pissing me off.

Before I can blink, Renzo has me by the throat, my feet almost entirely off the ground. Jesus, it hurts. And I can’t fucking breathe. What the hell is wrong with him?

“What have I told you about disrespecting me?” he hisses through clenched teeth.

“Just … a little … fun,” I manage to wheeze while clinging to his wrist.

“No, you’re embarrassing our entire family, and now we’re leaving.” He drops me, adding a little shove for good measure. “Lina, Oran, I’ll make sure this is handled appropriately. You have my apologies.”

“We’re glad you could make it,” says the groom, now part of the circle of onlookers to our little show. The two shake hands before Renzo directs me to the exit.

I take a single step when a delicate hand snags mine. Amelie. She deposits something in my palm, her eyes glassy and grief-stricken. I clench my fist tightly shut and try to look as unaffected as possible to keep her from worrying. This isn’t the first time my cousin and I have clashed, and it won’t be the last.

So much for the tides turning.

I follow Renzo to the car and get in the back seat rather than the front. He doesn’t say a word, and neither do I. We both need the distance from one another. I also wanted a bit of privacy because I want to see what Amelie’s given me.

When I open my palm, I see the silver ring she’d flashed earlier. The one with the evil eye.

Keeps the monsters away.

She was trying to protect me the only way she knew how.

I rub at the strange twinge in my chest as I stare at the ring. She couldn’t have known how much it would mean to me, yet here it sits in my hand.

I close my fist and feel the metal imprint in my palm, suspecting little Amelie may have done the same to my heart.