Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Bambalina
Tess and Trilby sit opposite me, their faces as solemn as I feel. Every time someone moves or breathes they jump up, ready to rush to their aid. Anything to feel useful or avoid the dead resignation in my eyes.
Their faces hold the same sadness I saw when Sera was forced into marrying Andreas. But Sera was lucky. Even though it took a while for my brother-in-law to win me over, he absolutely has won Sera’s heart. Alessio will never have mine.
Maybe if I can get past the fact he has traded his men for me, and the fact he’s taken ownership of a woman not yet in her prime and probably my childbearing years too, I may distantly care for him, but I will never love him.
I’ll never want him. I’ll never need him like I need oxygen. Not the way I need Nicolò.
My heart cracks a little deeper and I push the thought away.
I’m glad Nicolò left last night. No good can come of us watching each other move through this. I can’t have him behaving that way. If anyone finds out what we have—well, had—we’d bring so much shame on the family. We both need to focus on the future and do what our duties dictate.
But God, I am hurting.
I’m hurting so hard I’m struggling to hold myself together.
I can’t imagine never feeling his hands on me again, his lips on my arms, my face, eyelids.
A tear swells at the thought. If I’d known the time in the upstairs bathroom was going to be our last, I wouldn’t have come so fast. I’d have spent more time lavishing him.
I’d have kissed him until our lips were raw. I’d have…
Swallowing a lump, I realize exactly what I would have done if I’d have known this was going to happen.
I’d have let him take my virginity.
I hadn’t planned on losing it yet—there were so many other things I wanted to do with Nicolò, but I know he’d have wanted to complete our connection at some point. That didn’t bother me at all. In my mind, my virginity is mine to give and his to take.
I crush the thought between imaginary fingers and try to convince myself it’s a good thing I’m not going to see Nicolò again, at least for a little while.
I have to do this right. This is the part I’ve been given, the hand I’ve been dealt.
I won’t let my family down—not my immediate one nor the one we’ve become an intrinsic part of.
A slightly shaky hand taps my knee. “Can I get you anything, Lina?”
I’m touched that Tess has made an effort to use my ‘grown-up’ name.
I shake my head lightly. “No thanks, I’m good.”
Antonia and Allegra are walking solemnly from one room to another, fetching drinks and checking everyone’s okay.
It gives the moment the morbidly heavy weight of a funeral.
I don’t miss the raw, red rings around their eyes.
They’ve cried enough tears between them that I don’t have to, which is good, because I don’t seem to have any.
These developments have zapped the moisture from me.
Benito hovers by the other door, his gaze fixed on Tess like he’s afraid she’s going to do a Katniss Everdeen and try to take my place.
He needn’t worry; I wouldn’t let her. Cristiano quietly paces through the house like a ghost. Every now and then, Trilby gets up to whisper something in his ear.
Whatever she says seems to bring him comfort.
I wish someone could do the same for me.
At least I’ll have company on the drive to the Highlands. Allegra and Papa will come with me. Apparently, Papa handing me over the threshold at the Bellucci residence is as close to giving me away as we can realistically get to an official marriage at the moment.
A church has been selected for our wedding ceremony a week from now but the details are still being worked through. I will be homeschooled after marriage and can continue to do my photography, but within the geographical confines of the Highlands estate, of course.
Cristiano stops pacing for a minute and speaks in hushed tones to Benito. Seeing as I’m the only person no one dares to speak to, I can train my focus on what he’s saying.
“Where the fuck is he? He should have been here a half hour ago.”
They must be talking about Dario, the man Nicolò was so vehemently against having accompany me at the Bellucci’s.
Benito grunts and pushes himself off the wall. “I’ll go get him. But he can do this one last job for us, then he’s a dead man.”
I swallow. Wow. These men kill for the smallest things these days. Then it dawns on me I’ll have a dead man by my side for the next week. I guess I’ll at least be able to give him a heads up so he can get away. I don’t want another life to be ruined by this.
Cristiano looks somewhat wearily at Papa. “Tony, can I use your office?”
“Of course. I’ll unlock it for you.”
It’s the first time I’ve heard Papa speak since yesterday’s dinner. He leads Cristiano out of the room, probably relieved to get out of the stifling living room for a moment or two.
I hear voices out in the hall but I don’t think anything of it.
Then his presence warms my side. Nicolò is here.
I can feel him before he’s even announced himself.
When Tess looks up, it’s with narrowed eyes and pinched lips.
I follow her gaze and my heart swells to double its size.
Nicolò looks different. Cocky, confident and so fucking sexy I can’t stand it.
My gaze zeroes in on his disarming gray eyes. They wrap around me, eclipsing everything else in the room. I’ve been trying to convince myself it’s a good thing he’s not here, but now he is, I feel protected, and assured in a nonsensical way that everything’s going to be okay.
Several silent minutes pass then Cristiano walks back into the room, his phone held aloft and a look of thunder undisguised across his features. Everyone looks up as he enters but that doesn’t stop him from glaring at Nicolò.
Cristiano grinds his jaw so hard I hear it across the room. “Dario won’t be coming.”
I look around, confused. “Why?”
Cristiano doesn’t move his daggered stare from my stepbrother. “Because he’s dead.”
“What?” I gasp.
Despite the deathly look Cristiano is firing at him, Nicolò shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“Guess that settles it then,” he says, in a half-thrilled, half-nonchalant tone. “I’ll go with her.”
The next twenty minutes disappear in a blur. I’m faintly aware of Antonia helping to pack my cases in the trunk and handing Allegra a bag of my favorite snacks. Trilby is unsuccessfully trying not to cry, while Tess continues to glare at Nicolò with twisting fingers and flared nostrils.
Nicolò is suddenly businesslike and efficient, speaking in an authoritative tone to Cristiano and Benito.
Both men are resigned to the turn of events.
Papa looks like someone removed his head, spun it in a washing machine and popped it back on again.
He sits in the front passenger seat of Nicolò’s car looking as though he has nothing left to live for.
Even Antonia, try as she might, can’t rouse a smile from him.
Allegra sinks in beside me and immediately takes my hand. We’ve had our differences over the last couple years but she’s the closest I’ve ever had to a mother. When I look into her eyes, I see so much love and adoration, along with the sadness that is tainting everyone’s gaze.
I focus on the view out the windshield as we pull through the gates. I can’t look back at my sisters or our childhood home—it will shatter the last strand of courage I’m clinging on to until I can be alone. I won’t cry until there’s no one around who’ll be hurt by seeing me so broken.
When we’re on the freeway, my gaze drifts to the rearview and I catch Nicolò watching me.
We stare at each other for too long, trying to communicate everything across the unbearable sound of silence.
I’m the one to unlock our eyes, but as I let my gaze fall to his shoulder, it catches on something so unusual I have to squint to see what it is.
Nicolò is obsessive about his appearance.
Always a fresh suit, neatly pressed—the best of the best. Never a hair out of place or a scuff on his shoe.
But today, not everything is perfect. The more closely I look at the white neckline of his designer shirt, just above the jacker shoulder, the clearer it becomes.
On the right side of his neck, on the curve of the collar, is a small but unmistakable spot of blood.