Read Dark Soul Vol. 4 for Free Online

his own life?
    But he couldn’t. He was tied to too many things: his family history, the famiglia , his duties, and of course Donata. And Silvio. Just walking away, leaving everything, had never been an option for him.
    “What happened in the last few weeks? You didn’t just kill people.”
    Franco lifted his hands briefly from the table, then dropped them again, straightened his fingers and looked at his nails as if inspecting them for dirt. Finally closed his hands into loose fists. “I had my assumptions challenged. About myself, mostly. Silvio can’t touch anything without changing it.”
    Touch anything . The words held too much meaning to decipher.
    The dream images came back, of all three of them entwined in lust.
    Stefano swallowed and shook his head. “Yeah, I’ve been there.”
    “You still are.” Franco stared at his hands again. “He’s got no limits, no rules. Silvio does what he will.”
    “So what did he do to you?”
    “I don’t know.” Franco shrugged. “Wide-open field. I don’t know what’s in there.”
    Stefano couldn’t help it, he reached across the table and touched Franco on the arm. Franco’s eyes narrowed, telling him he’d made a mistake, but then Franco just sighed and shook his head. “I’ll be soon gone.”
    “Why?”
    “The alternatives won’t work, whatever Silvio thinks. I’m not made to live Silvio’s life, and I’m not a lesser version of my brother— for anybody.”
    Was that an accusation? Stefano lifted his hand away. “You helped me out of a pretty tight spot there, Franco. I want to make sure you’re going to be okay.”
    “That’s the official version.” Franco crossed his arms in front of him. “I know what you want. And I know Silvio can give you that.
    And the other way round. Nobody needs me. And I’m not good at being needed, you see.”
    “You’re family.”
    Franco made an odd sound. A laugh. It seemed like the saddest, bitterest thing in the world. And why did that make him feel like he’d missed at least ninety percent of the conversation?
    “I just feel obliged to you now.”
    “Pay it off to Silvio. I don’t need your money or your . . .” Franco’s lips tightened. “Tenderness.” He said it like another man would have said “pity,” and Stefano wondered if, to Franco, that was the same thing. God, he was beginning to see just how screwed up this man was.
    “Okay. But do get in touch when you need anything. A favor.
    Something happening. Any kind of help.” Get in touch . Shit. Put the foot in deeper, will you.
    Franco remained silent for a minute or so, just fixing his eyes on something invisible to the side of Stefano’s head. “It’s Silvio’s birthday on the twentieth.”
    “October?”
    Franco nodded. “Silvio wants to belong. Make him.” He seemed about to turn away, then paused again. “Thing is, I can’t.”
    Stefano could have sworn he’d left his cell phone in the kitchen, but he found it in the living room, next to the TV remote.
    When he pushed the curtains aside, he spotted Donata talking to Silvio outside the bungalow. Of course she had an excuse to talk to Silvio, but seeing the two of them standing there, together, he realized again how much he wanted them both. And prayed he wouldn’t hurt either of them.
    He half-expected her to bitch-slap Silvio, rake her nails across his face, and shuddered. The image was too clear in his head.
    Bad conscience. Like a man watching his wife stumble across his mistress.
    Thing was, Silvio didn’t deserve either the pain or the humiliation.
    He’d done nothing that wrong. It still took two to cheat, and Silvio was a gay man, unattached, hedonistic. It was Stefano, and Stefano alone, who was breaking the rules, largely, damn it al , because he accepted the rules, unlike Silvio. He envied him that sometimes, but Donata made it all worthwhile. The chance to have a family, a home, and to live in peace.
    Stefano looked down at the phone in his hand, pressed the button