And my brow instantly marred.

Alright. That certainly got my attention.

What is she up to?

The one place the boys hadn’t fitted a camera was in the walk-in closet. I could see directly in, but only at an angle and when Vittoria disappeared from sight, the tensing of my stomach spoke of how little I liked that. My jaw clenched as she fluttered in and out of view, and I was finally able to breathe again when she stepped out wearing a black one-piece bathing suit. And I relaxed a little now knowing where this was going.

The boys had their strict instructions. Vittoria was not to leave the house under any circumstances. It would be interesting to see how she went about this.

Before she left the bedroom, she sat in front of the vanity with an expression of unease. She exhaled slowly, gathering her long, silky hair at the top of her head and tying it into a high ponytail. A glance at her reflection had her clutching her stomach and wincing. I watched her battle her nerves. She slid on an oversized pair of sunglasses before standing once more, holding onto a towel and there was no mistaking how anxious she was – her heavy breathing gave it away – as she slipped into a pair of golden flip-flops. On her way out, she grabbed a towel and as I switched cameras to follow her down, I was impressed by how quickly she lifted her chin and pasted on a completely feigned look of arrogance.

“Be Vincenza,” she muttered to herself as she approached the back door. “Be Vincenza. Be Vincenza. You’re Vincenza.” She put her hand to the door knob. “Go.” Then threw it open, glaring at one of my biggest boys and most loyal men, Marco, then announced haughtily, “I’m going for a swim.”

Marco blinked down at her. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

My brows rose when she uttered smugly, “It’s not your job to think now, is it? Get out of my way. I’m going for a swim.”

“Listen here-” Marco began but she cut him off with a cold sounding, “No, you listen. Do you know who I am? Do you know why you’re here? I’m sure word has spread by now what I did to my husband on our wedding day.” Her expression was eerily still as she announced steadily, “I shot him. Point blank. In a church full of our loved ones.” Her eyes narrowed on my lifelong friend. “Ettore means something to me. You don’t. Now, what do you think I’ll do to you?” A single brow rose as she asked, “Do you really want to fuck with me?”

There was a moment even I was taken aback. Would you listen to this cocky bitch?

Why did I find this little act hot?