The Guzzi Legacy: Vol 1

by Bethany-Kris

  “Sorry to waste your time, then.”

  Alessio arched a brow, his teeth grinding against the piece of mint gum that had, for the most part, kept him calm over the last hour while he waited. “It’s fine, no worries.”

  “Really? Because I don’t think it is, Alessio. Fine, I mean.”

  Her voice?

  Still musical.

  Not that it mattered.

  “Oh, it’s definitely not fine,” he replied, “but I won’t be leaving until it is.”

  Ginevra swallowed audibly, and that tremor danced over the line of her smooth shoulders again. Still damp from the rain, and naked now, as she’d pulled the straps of the silk dress down over her arms when she thought she was alone ... he noticed entirely too much about this woman.

  But he blamed Corrado for that, too.

  This obsession.

  He just wanted to know why.

  Why her.

  Why?

  Alessio took a step away from Ginevra when he heard the knob on the penthouse door begin to turn. He glanced to the side, a grin curving his lips as it opened, and the man of the hour finally arrived.

  Corrado looked to him first when he stepped inside, and then he checked on Ginevra, too. He didn’t seem surprised to find Alessio in the penthouse, but more like he expected it. No one was better acquainted with the asshole in Alessio than Corrado, frankly.

  Quietly, Corrado said, “We should talk, yeah?”

  Alessio winked. “You think?”

  “Les—”

  “Yeah, let’s fucking talk, Corrado.”

  Time to really get this show started, then.

  27.

  Corrado

  “Where do you want to—”

  “The office,” Alessio said, taking two steps backward.

  Further from Ginevra.

  Corrado wasn’t really worried on that. Alessio wasn’t the type to get violent when he was feeling some kind of way. At least, not to women. Men, on the other hand, were an entirely different story.

  Fair game, as Alessio would say.

  “The office, then,” Corrado said.

  He tried to keep his tone calm, but it was harder than he thought it would be. Mostly because he’d figured out quickly that Alessio had fucked him over tonight, and that wasn’t like him at all. The second he stepped into the penthouse and saw Alessio stepping back from Ginevra like he’d had her backed against the wall, well ... Corrado simply wanted to put some space between the two.

  Make Alessio think.

  Corrado needed a second, too.

  “Yeah,” Alessio muttered, shooting Corrado a look.

  Just like that, the other man turned in the hallway, and walked away without as much as a look over his shoulder. Not that it made a difference. He could just tell ... Alessio wasn’t happy, but honestly, neither was Corrado. This could have been done a hundred different ways, but he didn’t have to come in like this, either. The tension was still far too thick in their air; Corrado could practically taste it, for fuck’s sake.

  Once Alessio rounded the corner at the end of the hallway, Corrado looked to Ginevra, but she stared at the floor between them. Like it was far more interesting than him, and maybe in that moment, it absolutely was to her.

  Who was he to say?

  Still, he needed to check ...

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Ginevra nodded, her fingers tightening on the clutch in her grip. “Yeah, Corrado.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Her chin tipped up, and through her lashes, he saw the anger and pain staring back at him. It really showed through in the frown that marred her pretty lips, and the tightening in her jaw. Jesus. The girl was good at hiding it—no doubt about it, and he wouldn’t deny her that truth. But fuck him, if it still didn’t cut him deep to see that leveling on him.

  He deserved it, though.

  Corrado knew that.

  All the hell that was about to come his way from two entirely different people ... yeah, he earned every bit of it. He wasn’t so stupid or selfish that he didn’t recognize the fact Ginevra and Alessio were both due their thoughts about what he had done to them. And so, he planned to let them do whatever they needed so that he understood their feelings on it all.

  Didn’t he owe them that?

  At least?

  Corrado thought so.

  “That’s him, isn’t it?” Ginevra asked, her voice barely breaking a murmur. She wouldn’t look at him entirely, but she still watched him through her lashes. It was enough for Corrado. “The other person, I mean.”

  He nodded. “It is. And I know you don’t want to hear it right now, but I’m so—”

  “You’re right, I don’t want to hear it.”

  “All right.” He gestured at the hallway, knowing Alessio was likely already waiting for him in the office. “I have to take care of that, but you’re ... it’s been a long night, Ginny. You should relax.”

  She scoffed at his back when he passed. Corrado didn’t acknowledge it.

  Then, behind him, she said, “He’s ...”

  He hesitated in his next step. “What?”

  “He’s overwhelming,” she whispered.

  Corrado shot her a look over his shoulder and laughed bleakly. “I know.”

  Because where was the lie?

  Alessio had always been overwhelming.

  In every sense of the word.

  • • •

  Corrado found Alessio sitting on the edge of the desk, using the arm of a guest’s chair to rest his foot on as he sliced through the top of a letter with his favorite pocket knife. He said nothing as Corrado stepped into the office and closed the door just enough that there was a crack to see out into the hallway.

  Mostly because he wanted to watch for Ginevra.

  All the while, Alessio said nothing. He pulled the bill out of the envelope that he opened, looked it over, and then tossed it aside. Just as quickly, he picked up another from the pile, clicked his tongue as he slid the knife under the paper, and opened it, too.

  “That’s what you want to do right now?”

  “Why not?” Alessio asked, reading over the paper in his hands. “It’s not like you care to look at the bills—they fucking sit in a pile.”

  Well, he wasn’t wrong ...

  Corrado simply preferred to let Alessio do those types of things because he found it mundane and fucking boring.

  “The maid handles that here,” Corrado said. “Because someone needs to keep up on it when we’re not around, Les.”

  “Right, right.”

  As fast as the bill had been in Alessio’s hand, it too was tossed to the desk. Discarded, and forgotten in a blink when his gaze turned on Corrado standing in front of the door.

  And there it is.

  That fury.

  The sting of it.

  A war raged in Alessio’s eyes, and Corrado didn’t look away. He couldn’t. Alessio was still owed that, after all, and Corrado would let him have it even if every second of it hurt him, too. That’s what one did when they hurt someone they loved, or so he thought.

  Not that he figured Alessio wanted to hear that right now.

  “We’re going to talk now, right?” Alessio asked. “Talk, Corrado, which is something we probably should have done, oh, what ... about a month ago, or so?”

  He straightened a bit, stuffing his hands into his pockets at the same time. “I—”

  “No, no, no,” the other man murmured quickly, stepping down from the desk in one fluid movement, like his entire body was made of water, and he moved like it, too. “No, I don’t want to hear you talk, unless you’re going to say something I want to hear.”

  Corrado eyed that knife in Alessio’s hand. “You going to put that away, or ...?”

  That was a low blow.

  Even Corrado knew it.

  Alessio’s jaw twitched, and he flipped the blade around in his palm without even looking at the weapon. “Fuck you. Like I would ever—”

 
; “I didn’t say you would. I asked if you were going to put it away.”

  Without a word, Alessio snapped the switchblade closed, and pocketed the weapon. He didn’t acknowledge he did it other than to raise his brow at Corrado like he was saying, better?

  “I made a trip to New York, yeah,” Alessio said, taking one step closer to Corrado, but coming no further than that, “worried about you—because that’s what I fucking do, Corrado. I worry about you. I think about you.”

  He sucked in a heavy breath but kept quiet. It wasn’t like he needed to be told to shut his fucking mouth right now. He could tell what Alessio wanted, which was to get shit off his chest, and then maybe he’d be willing to let Corrado talk.

  But who knew for sure?

  “And what do you do, huh?” Alessio asked.

  “I fucked up.”

  “Right.” Alessio glanced away, staring out the one bay window in the office that currently overlooked a darkening sky and a city that was still awake. “Do you wanna know why I picked this room?”

  “Because you always liked it.”

  “Not even close.”

  “Then, why?”

  “Because there’s only one goddamn room in this penthouse that you’ll sleep in, and if you’re fucking her, that’s where you’re doing it, Corrado.”

  He didn’t reply.

  Alessio’s gaze cut back to him fast. “You won’t even deny it, then?”

  “Would you believe me if I did?”

  “What—”

  “I haven’t slept with her,” Corrado interjected fast. That, he wanted clear. “Yeah, I crossed a line. Yeah, I broke those fucking rules. And yeah, I got too close, and I didn’t let you know from the start like I should have, but I didn’t fuck her.”

  Alessio made a noise under his breath.

  Dark.

  And oh, so painful.

  It cut Corrado deep. That one sound could have been a knife driving into his chest because he felt that. He felt that betrayal swimming in Alessio’s mind, and heart. Felt it like nothing else, but it was done now.

  He couldn’t change it now.

  “But you want to,” Alessio said. “You’ve wanted to.”

  “Les—”

  “Fuck you, don’t give me bullshit, Corrado. Not right now. You give me the truth you should have given me a month ago, or you say nothing.”

  If one was unlucky enough to see a snake right before it struck, they would know the serpent liked to coil its body tightly, saving all its energy, and letting the power of its muscles do the work before it attacked. And that was Alessio in that moment—coiled, prepping, almost ready to come at him, and barely holding back.

  “Why not?” Alessio asked, his head turned just a bit so he could watch Corrado from the side. “You wanted to fuck her—still do, I bet—so why not do it? Just do it, right?”

  He wanted to speak.

  Wanted to tell Alessio exactly why.

  His throat tightened, though, making the words hard to get out. To his companion, it only made it seem like Corrado was holding back, something that had always hit a raw nerve with Alessio when it came to them.

  “Why the fuck not, huh?” Alessio demanded, blue eyes blazing. “Because the rest didn’t matter—you didn’t care to tell me anything else, so why not just do it.”

  “Because I couldn’t.”

  “That’s a coward’s answer.”

  “It’s the truth,” Corrado murmured, “and I know I should have told you, but it wasn’t that simple, Les. I fucked up, yes, but it wasn’t as easy as you’re thinking. I didn’t purposely decide to do this, or do it to you, okay, I—”

  In a blink, Alessio closed the distance between them. Another person, no doubt, would have backed up at the sight of Alessio coming at them looking like he did right then. Dressed in black, leather and combat boots, his expression darkened from his rage.

  But not Corrado.

  No.

  He stayed right where he was, letting Alessio get as close as he fucking could, until their chests touched, and they were eye-to-eye. Stormy blue irises could have nailed him to the floor, but he still wouldn’t have moved.

  “No?” Alessio asked, leaning in closer until their mouths were a breath apart. “No, Corrado? You didn’t purposely do this, huh? You didn’t purposely decide not to tell me that you were watching a woman, that you had something going on here I should have known about because that had always been our way? You really wanna say you didn’t do that knowing what you were doing?”

  Alessio pointed a finger at him, but didn’t touch Corrado with it, and lost all his sense of decorum at the same goddamn time. His next words came loud, and sharp, because he clearly wanted Corrado to hear and feel every single one of them.

  “I knew shit was up, and I went looking for it, Corrado. And I’m so fucking glad I found it before you could tell me, right, because I don’t think you would have.”

  “I was going to tell you.”

  “When, tonight? A little late, yeah?”

  Corrado shook his head as Alessio took a step back. “If you’d just let me talk—”

  “I’m sick of hearing you talk,” Alessio returned, “because you don’t say anything new, and you certainly don’t tell me what I want to hear anymore. You’ve been saying the same shit to me for the last five years, so why would this be any different?”

  “Stop it,” Corrado said lowly, his fists clenching at his sides. “It’s one thing to be pissed about this, but it’s another to act like this has been something that’s happened time and time again. Because it’s not. It’s not, Les. And I didn’t mean for it to happen this time. She wasn’t supposed to be anything. She was just a fucking job!”

  “A job, right. That’s fucking rich.” Alessio let out a laugh, bitter and aching, and moved closer to Corrado again. This time, Alessio coming forward forced him back a bit until his side hit the edge of the opened door and made the crack wider so that both of them were almost standing in the doorway. “If you had wanted to fuck her, all you had to do was tell me. It’s the one and only thing I’ve always asked from this, but you couldn’t even give me that. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “And what in the hell does that mean?”

  Alessio shrugged. “At the end of the day, I’ll always be the second choice. To everything else, I come second, and you just made sure to really let me know here.”

  No.

  If it were possible for a heart to split in two from nothing more than someone’s words and their pain, then that’s what Corrado’s did. He wished Alessio could see himself through Corrado’s eyes. He wasn’t so good at this thing they had, and he screwed up, but that didn’t change what they were at the end of the day.

  It didn’t change what he felt.

  Alessio couldn’t be his second choice when he had already been his first.

  “That’s untrue,” Corrado said, refusing to back down on that. Ever. “Don’t say that, because you know it’s not true, Les.”

  “I know you made it clear here. With her, yeah, you made it look like fucking crystal to me, Corrado. I see it far too well.”

  “You don’t know any—”

  “I know enough!”

  “You won’t let me talk!”

  “I told you why that is. I don’t care to hear what you have to say.” Alessio took one step back from him, but it still wasn’t enough. A part of Corrado wanted the room to breathe, but another part of him wanted this man as close as he could get him. That heartache was still there, bright and clear, and vicious. Ready to hurt. “I came here looking for something tonight, but I haven’t found it. I don’t know if I will, or if I even want to anymore.”

  Corrado let out a shaky exhale. “Don’t say that; you don’t mean that.”

  Alessio rushed forward, pressed against him, and stared him down again. Teeth clenched, body coiled, and emotions ready to go to war.

  Corrado didn’t move an inch. “If all you wanted to do was fuck her, then you could have told
me, but that’s the thing, isn’t it? That’s not all you want from her—that’s not all you want to do with her. And that’s why you didn’t tell me about her, Corrado. Just say it.”

  “I won’t deny that, but it’s more than that, too.”

  A nod answered him back, but Alessio wasn’t hearing him. He was too fucking mad, and ready to strike out because of it. That was the thing about him—once he reached his point of no return, it was over. He couldn’t be reached.

  Corrado simply had to weather the storm.

  And what a fucking hurricane Alessio could be.

  Violent, destructive, and raw. Unforgiving, willing to devastate, and unrelenting as he tore whatever was in his way apart piece by fucking piece. Even if it meant tearing apart the thing that he loved while he did it. Anyone caught in his path when he was like this would be lucky to survive, and if they did, they certainly wouldn’t come out of it the same as they went into it.

  Corrado was not an exception to that rule, but he earned this. Alessio was due this. So, he let him have it. Corrado let him do what he needed. Even if it killed him by the time his lover was done.

  It wasn’t about Ginevra, really. It wasn’t that Corrado found a woman he was attracted to, or felt something for. It was the betrayal in it—the trust Alessio never gave to anyone, but that he willingly handed to Corrado.

  It was that, and not the rest, even if Alessio used everything else as a backdrop to spell it out for Corrado. He’d always been good at reading between the lines, and he didn’t need help now to see it written like black ink on white paper. Alessio was the paper. His eyes, his words, and his anguish became the ink.

  “I’m so glad you found something in someone else,” Alessio murmured, that betrayal coating every word and each breath he took, “because God fucking knows you never found what you wanted in me.”

  Fuck him for saying that.

  It wasn’t even close to being true.

  Corrado had everything he wanted in Alessio—he’d found things he never knew he needed in the man looking like he was ready to burn him to the ground right where he stood. And he loved him more for it, too.

  That’s what made this hurt worse.

  Because he couldn’t explain why this happened at all. He would never be able to explain Ginevra, the things he felt for her, or why it happened at all ... not when he already had what he wanted and needed from Alessio.