"I yearn for someone who can love me the way you love Missus Ziana Ricci D'Amico Cassano," Dalia whispered, her voice carrying a glimmer of hope within her heart.
In an instant, realization dawned upon Delrico that Vincent, the man her sister was intended to marry, was no longer among the living. This revelation meant that her sister's hand could no longer be used as leverage in an unwanted alliance. With a sigh, he uttered those words that offered her a sliver of encouragement, igniting a flicker of hope for both her and Warren.
"Vincent is dead."
Dalia rose from her seat, her eyes wide with disbelief. "How? Who? When?" she inquired urgently.
"I don't know the details just yet," Delrico admitted.
Resuming her place, she sat down deep in thought. Did she feel any semblance of pity? Perhaps not. Despite being her fiancé, she held no affection for him. Shedding tears or feeling sorrow over his demise was beyond her.
For once in her life, she embraced this emotion with gratitude. Refusing to pity anyone who met their end at the hands of an enemy became her source of strength. It was believed that those who perish at the hands of their foes were weak. To her, displaying strength meant compelling her adversaries to recoil from their actions and intentions.
Indeed, Vincent was weak.
A man who could not control his own desires and indulged in the company of any woman who caught his attention was unfit to hold the title of UnderCapo. How could he have governed the mafia when he succumbed so easily to his lustful urges? People trained for years to achieve such a position, while this wretched man believed he could act with impunity behind their backs.
You reap what you sow.
"What's the matter? You don't appear saddened," Delrico asked, slightly taken aback by his sister's lack of expected emotion.
"Why should I be sad? You know I never had the slightest affection for him. It was merely an arrangement to bolster Venezio's power in Europe, and as for Vincent, he was bestowed the title of UnderCapo. I was nothing more than a puppet for my brother and a dutiful wife to my despicable husband," she replied, her lashes batting with a taunting smile gracing her lips.
"Believe me, I never wanted you to be entangled in this web. I wanted you to enjoy your life to the fullest, like other college girls and successful businesswomen do. But now Venezio holds the power, and you can't go against his orders without consequences. I've ruined everyone's lives, starting with my sister and now my wife. I'm sorry I couldn't be a better brother to you. I wish I could fulfill your wishes without complications," she confessed, staring at him with affectionate eyes, a slight smile playing on her lips while tears shimmered in her grey orbs.
Raising his hand, Delrico gently wiped away her tears with his thumbs, then knelt down in front of her.
"You are stronger than me. I am proud of you, and guilty for neglecting you for so long," he admitted, causing her to offer a genuine smile amidst a sniffle. Delighted by the array of emotions displayed on her face, he chuckled softly. "You will find a real man who will love you in his own unique way. Not a wretched bastard like me or Vincent. Love has never been easy for either of us. We have paid, and continue to pay, for it."
"If I were to love a regular person, would you support me?" she inquired with a pounding heart.
He remained silent, lost in deep contemplation. Dalia's gaze dropped to her lap, regretting her decision to ask such a question at this particular moment.
However, it no longer mattered, for her sister's deep thoughts were evident to him. The answer was a resounding "yes." His sister had fallen in love with an ordinary human, someone who didn't belong to their world, a man with a typical nine-to-five job.
Letting out a long sigh, Delrico finally spoke, "Let's keep it a secret for now, until this whole fiasco with Romano settles down." Dalia nodded in agreement. He stood up and made his way back into the room, taking a seat beside his wife while lovingly caressing her hair. After a few minutes, Dalia quietly left the scene, her mind abuzz with the secrets now exposed.
YOU ARE READING
His Villain
Action"I am merely a performer. I am not a whore or an object to satisfy your desires," tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke. "I don't care," he retorted callously. "Fuck you," she spat, her voice trembling with anger and defiance. "That was precisely...
