Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“If you’re asking if he’s pussy-whipped, then yeah. He’ll stay in line if she commands it.”
“How long do you think his love for her will last?”
“How long do you think your love for Eden will last?”
Jean-Pierre placed his hand on the violin case. “Are you an opera man?”
I gestured to my clothes. “Do I look like a fucking opera man to you?”
“You look cultured.”
“Let’s get back to me not trusting you and the fact that I want to know where we are going.”
“Pagliacci is an amazing Italian opera.”
Oh. Here we go with the fucking classical history lessons.
Jean-Pierre continued, “The literal translation of Pagliacci is Clowns.”
I quirked my brows. “Are you trying to call me a clown?”
“The opera has a prologue and two acts, with music and libretto by Ruggero Leoncavallo.”
“I don’t care about any of that shit.”
“It tells the tale of Canio, actor and leader of a commedia dell’arte theatrical company.”
“A what?”
Jean-Pierre shrugged. “A company of clowns.”
“Who would want to see an opera about a bunch of clowns?”
“It is deeper than that. It is a play-within-a-play. While the clowns carry out one performance, they are also the performance, presenting the drama of the clowns' lives.”
“Sounds boring to me.” I turned my view to my right.
Out the window, dark clouds passed and disappeared into the horizon behind us. I spotted lightning bolts crackling below and rolling across the night sky. Somewhere out there, there was a place where a storm was raging.
Where the hell are we going?
The Butcher spoke, “Pagliacci opens with a group of traveling circus performers. Canio the Clown leads the troupe. His wife is Nedda.”
I wish we were going back to Italy. How is Em doing out there without me?
The ache rose at the thought of how much distance lay between Em and me, and how it would grow further with this trip. At least when I was with Misha, I could ignore the emptiness. He was fun and kept me busy. Unfortunately, even Misha couldn’t fill that void in my chest.
Plus, I just missed Em so much that it hurt. I wished I could hear her laugh and see that warm smile. I craved Em making me feel better without saying a word.
Now, without a home, she served as my home base. She was currently all the family I had.
Being with Jean-Pierre had only triggered the ache to throb full force within me.
I touched my chest as if that could push the emptiness away.
Jean-Pierre spoke, “Canio’s wife, Nedda, is in love with a villager named Silvio.”
What?
I turned my view back to Jean-Pierre.
“There’s always a villain in a good story.”
I frowned. “So, Silvio is the villain?”
“Things are much more complicated than that.” Jean-Pierre shook his head. “The villain is Tonio. He wants Nedda for himself.”
“So we have a clown boss that has a sexy ass wife who is in love with a broke ass villager, yet another clown ass motherfucker wants her too?”
“That is a pretty rudimentary summary, but you have the gist of what is going on.”
“You’re talking about Italian operas and shit.” I eyed him. “Are we going back to Italy?”
“The villain, Tonio, shows her husband what is going on with her lover.”
“So, Tonio is dirty macking.”
“What?”
“Trying to get someone’s chick by any means necessary.”
Jean-Pierre curved his lips into a smile. “Then, yes, he is dirty macking.”
I mulled over what the Butcher was saying. Watching me, his mouth was set in a tight line, and his hands were clenched into fists.
Was he trying to let me know that he knew what my intentions were? Was this some type of warning?
I couldn't be sure, but I knew I needed to be careful around this man.
He wouldn’t kill me in order to stay in Em’s good graces. However, if his relationship with Eden was threatened from all my big-dick energy, then the motherfucker would be irrational.
Jean-Pierre crossed his legs and placed his hands together on his lap. “You see. This opera is the story of a woman who’s in love with a man who is not her husband.”
I tensed.
“Therefore, Pagliacci is a true-crime thriller unfurling within the operatic essentials of lust, infidelity, and murder.”
“Murder, huh?”
“Oh yes. Due to Tonio’s dirty macking, Canio murders his wife Nedda and her lover Silvio on stage during a performance.”
“Why couldn’t this Canio guy just let his chick go off with the other man?”
"Let her go off with the guy?" A dark chuckle left Jean-Pierre. “You clearly have never been in love.
I leaned forward in my seat. “Love isn’t a reason to kill anybody over.”
Death filled Jean-Pierre’s gaze. “I would kill millions over Eden.”
Tension thickened the air.
Swallowing, I checked Boris’s direction, wishing he hadn’t passed out. This was a great time for him to be awake.
"Whatever, man." I looked back at him. "Where are we going?"
The hard expression on Jean-Pierre’s face softened. “The composer, Leoncavallo, explained that he based Pagliacci on an incident from his childhood.”