Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse

disagree with Gino's thinking, and I plan to be in power not just over Scarletti lands but over all of our country." His fingers tightened on her throat, threatening to cut off her air. "My guards wait outside for your husband, so we will… rest here together."
    Nicoletta's dark eyes moved over his face with contempt. "You can never take Giovanni's place. Not as a ruler, and certainly not with me."
    His eyebrows shot up. "Really? I know more ways to pleasure a woman—or hurt her—than you have ever dreamed. We will see." But abruptly he let go of her, dropping his hands from her bruised skin.
    She took two steps away from him, backing toward the marble wall, toward the entrance to the passageway. "You have forgotten the most important thing of all, Vincente. You have forgotten the curse on your famiglia." She smiled at him sweetly, confidently. Deep within her a new confidence surged. This monster no longer frightened her. She was in the palazzo. Her home. And she had finally realized the tremendous gift she shared with her husband. She had only to think of what was wrong, only to shout a warning in her mind, and the strong bond between her and her husband would take care of the rest.
    Giovanni would always be there, just a thought away, surrounding her with his love and protection.
    "What are you talking about?" Vincente's voice was a whip of contempt.
    "You were the one who told me of the curse. The downfall of Scarletti men is always a woman. I am Giovanni Scarletti's woman, not yours. If I am a curse to someone, do you wish it to be you? Because I will never be a curse to him." She stepped aside, well away from the passageway entrance as the crack in the wall widened and her husband launched himself straight at his youngest brother.
    Vincente had no time to react. He fell backward from the force of the blow. Giovanni wounded though he was, subdued the monster as, outside the room, Giovanni's soldiers overcame those in Vincente's pay.
    Giovanni took his brother out into the corridor, and when his soldiers escorted the prisoner to the tower, Vincente slammed his body into a guard, attempting to push him over the ledge. Instead, the guard stumbled aside, and Vincente Scarletti hurtled himself from the very walkway where he had destroyed so many others.

Chapter Twenty
    Giovanni stepped into the long, wide corridor. He was utterly weary, tired to the bone. His side ached where Aljandro's stiletto had slid into his muscles, but more than his flesh, his soul ached. Delving deeply into his once-loved brother's affairs had been much like immersing himself in evil. His brother had even kept a journal of his deeds, somehow believing, in his illness, that he was doing his duty for the Scarletti heirs to come. At last the sun had set, and he could make his sorrowful way to his bedchamber. To his wife.
    Nicoletta. She was a breath of fresh air in the palazzo, working miracles with her sunny smile, with her personality alone. She laughed with Maria Pia and Beatrice and their little charge, Sophie, offering comfort and love. She drew Nonno into her circle of light until even the servants began smiling at him.

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    She was often in Margerita's room, talking with her, encouraging her, offering solace and friendship. She reached out to Dominic's family, giving aid and comfort as she could. She was the healer, watching over the young injured soldier, Goeboli, hiding in the palazzo, and, of course, her husband. Nicoletta tended his wounds very, very carefully.
    Giovanni did not remember what he had ever done without her. She was a calming influence, yet his barefoot bride also brought laughter into the palazzo. He needed her tonight after the ugly discoveries he had made. He needed her love of life, her energy. He needed the solace of her body.
    He pushed open the door of their room. It was empty, as he had expected it to be. She was most likely calming Sophie's nightmares or doing a last inspection of the young Goeboli before she came to bed.
    Sighing softly with regret, Giovanni was halfway to the enormous bedstead, peeling off his shirt, when he noticed the door to the bath partially open. He stood still for a moment, his fingers massaging the nape of his neck in an attempt to ease his tight muscles. Drawing off his boots, he allowed them to drop to the floor before he padded across the room to the bath, his feet bare on the smooth tiles.
    Nicoletta