Malavita Read Online Free

could’ve spared Dario that pain.
    But maybe—if he was honest—maybe he hadn’t wanted to.
    Maybe he’d wanted his vengeance. And maybe he’d taken it in the wrong place.
    He pushed his plate away, suddenly not hungry. Perhaps his father was right, and he needed to get a better handle on his feelings. At least when it came to the Andrettis. He couldn’t seem to do anything right when it came to them.
    His throat clogged, an apology lodged in it. But how could words ever make up for what he’d done to Dario?
    “May I be excused?” Antonella asked. Her voice was a lovely, husky contralto, and Enrico found the courage to meet her gaze.
    “You may,” Carlo said.
    She tossed her napkin down and rose, heading up the hill toward the olive grove.
    “I’d like to talk to her. If I may,” Enrico said, not stopping to second-guess himself. He was going to apologize for something today. Carlo nodded, and Enrico sprang up from his chair, loping after her. She was surprisingly fast, and he had to put in a little effort to catch her. “Antonella,” he called as he came up behind her.
    “Spare me,” she said, not looking at him. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she shrugged away. “Don’t touch me.”
    “ Per favore —”
    “I should’ve known better. To think I thought you were nice!”
    His steps faltered, but hers continued. She split off her present course and veered for the hedge maze to their right.
    For a moment, he stared after her. Maybe he ought to leave her be, let her reject him—
    But he couldn’t stomach the idea of her thinking that he hated how she looked. That he was rejecting her.
    Even though he had.
    His face hot with shame, he trailed her into the maze, and she broke into a run, sprinting away from him. He charged after her, following her around turn after turn, soon utterly disoriented.
    Exasperated, he put on some speed and grabbed her left arm. She stopped and whirled on him, her eyes blazing. “I told you not to touch me!”
    The tremble in her voice signaled how close to the edge she was. “Antonella, per favore . I just want to apologize.”
    “For what ?” she asked, stepping closer to him, her arms crossed over her chest.
    His cheeks flamed hotter. What could he say that wouldn’t make her feel worse? “For my behavior.”
    She stepped closer. “For what exactly ?” she asked.
    Oh Dio . She was going to make him say it aloud. He couldn’t do that.
    “I’m sorry,” he stammered.
    “Sorry for what ?” Her voice could cut glass. He took a step back as she advanced. “Afraid to say what you were thinking?” she asked, motioning to her face.
    “No, I—”
    She snorted. “Go ahead, lie . Because you’re too kind to say what you were thinking. How disappoin—” Her voice grew thick and she turned away.
    He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry I caused you pain. Truly.”
    “Papà says I’m beautiful. But I know the truth.” She wiped her eyes and sniffed, still not looking at him.
    “You have beautiful eyes, and your voice—”
    “Stop. Just stop .” She rounded on him. “Life’s been easy for you, Enrico Lucchesi. Have you ever even had a pimple?”
    He scratched his chin. “A few.”
    She laughed. “And how long did that phase last? A week?” She gestured up and down his body. “You’ve always been a god. You don’t know what it’s like to realize you have a face only a parent could love.”
    He didn’t know why he did it, but he reached out and tweaked her nose. Her mouth dropped open in rage. “What are you doing ?” she yelled.
    “Making you stop feeling sorry for yourself. Your being angry at me is better.”
    She placed her hands on her hips. “You need me, Enrico Lucchesi, whether you realize it or not.”
    “I don’t need you.”
    “Ask your father. I did this for you . For Dario. For my own father.”
    “You sound like this was your idea.”
    She crossed her arms again. “It was the perfect solution.” After a moment she