Chapter 38
SAbrINA
The world stopped.
The gasps from surrounding guests. The music. The servants rushing forward with a dustpan.
The blood rushing in my ears muted it all.
Murdered.
She’d said murdered.
Sebastian’s hand closed over my upper arm.
I turned my head to stare up at him. His lips moved, but I couldn’t understand what he was saying.
The woman’s face came into view. She gestured wildly as she shook her head.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I focused on what she was saying.
“My dear, I’m so sorry to have startled you with such ghastly gossip. Please pay an old woman no mind.” She nodded toward Sebastian and made to turn away, but I snatched at her forearm.
“What did you mean? She was murdered?”
The woman gave Sebastian an anxious glance before waving her hand, causing her jeweled bracelets to jangle. “It was years ago. I don’t remember.”
Stepping closer and placing my body between hers and Sebastian’s, I tightened my hold on her arm. “Yes, you do. Please tell me.”
“There was a man who was showing her a great deal of attention. Abriana wasn’t interested. Then next thing we all knew, she disappeared. There was no trace of her. People assumed…”
I leaned forward as I squeezed her arm again to encourage her to keep talking. “Assumed…?”
She sighed. “People assumed…because of who her family was…that she’d been murdered.”
This was all too much.
“What do you mean, because of who her family was?”
The woman looked at Sebastian and then at the people behind her.
Pretending to see someone, she hurried away, her parting words floating over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, my dear. I see someone I need to talk to.”
I moved to chase her, but Sebastian’s grip on my arm stopped me.
He hauled me back against his chest. “Basta. Enough.”
“I have to go after her. I need to know more.”
Sebastian turned me in his arms and cupped my face. “I’m taking you home, mia piccola. This was a mistake.”
With a strong arm around my middle, he half escorted, half carried me out of the ballroom.
Two servants rushed forward and opened the double doors leading to the massive entryway.
As Sebastian demanded our coats, I leaned my cheek against his chest.
I desperately wanted it all to just go away. The lights. The noise. The people staring. All of it.
The coat attendant brought Sebastian’s coat but said they were still getting mine.
“Dammit,” growled Sebastian as he swept his heavy cashmere coat over my shoulders.
He then swept me into his arms and carried me out of the hotel.
The rush of cool air stung my heated cheeks. The rumbling from deep inside his chest vibrated through me as he called out for his car to be brought around.
Tires screeched when the Range Rover jumped the curb of the hotel in front of us. The doorman rushed forward.
Sebastian ducked as he got into the car with me still tucked into his arms. Even as the SUV sped away, he kept me on his lap.
Pressing my palms against his chest, I tried to sit up and move to the other seat.
He tightened his grasp. “Don’t.”
“I’m fine. Really. I was just shocked.”
His lips thinned as he stared down at me with a hard expression.
It wasn’t concern…it was guilt.
For once, I could read him as easily as he usually read me.
He felt guilty. Good. He should.
My throat constricted as I swept my fingertips over my cheeks.
The drive back to the palazzo was endless.
The city outside the car window blurred into shadowy streets and harsh lights. The warm glow I’d admired earlier had gone, replaced by flickering streetlights that made the alleys look darker, more menacing.
Trash bags piled near curbs, and graffiti on the walls seemed to mock the grandeur I’d seen before.
All I wanted was to block it all out.
* * *
Before the car had even come to a full stop, I lunged for the door handle.
Sliding off Sebastian’s lap, I raced for the palazzo doors, ignoring the shocked expressions of the nearby staff as they stumbled to open the heavy iron doors.
My heels clacked sharply against the marble stairs as I stormed up the inside entry steps and into the sala dei mappamondi.
The endless tapestries depicting one Biblical tragedy after another seemed to mock my petty modern pain, as if scoffing at the silliness of decades-old gossip when compared to floods and real human suffering.
I couldn’t breathe in the stifling confines of the hall.
I shrugged off Sebastian’s coat, but it didn’t help.
Turning, I pushed open the glass French doors and stepped into the interior courtyard.
The evening air carried the sharp tang of lemon balm mixed with the earthy scent of damp stone, the kind of smell that clung to your hair and lingered.
Water trickled from a series of fountains, the sound delicate yet insistent, breaking the silence. Tall, ancient trees with gnarled trunks stretched toward the glass ceiling, their dark leaves forming shifting patterns as the faint light played through them.
I fisted my hands into the heavy fabric of my skirts as I lifted them over my ankles and stepped deeper into the labyrinth of greenery, every rustle of a branch or crunch of a leaf beneath my heels making my pulse race faster.
“Sabrina.”
I hastened my steps.
Growing for generations, if not over a century, the interior courtyard was lush with tall trees. Gingerly stepping along the slick stone path, I pushed through the palm fronds and branches to hide within its foliage.
It didn’t work.
I broke through to the center clearing with him directly behind me.
For several moments, neither of us spoke.
With my arms folded around my middle, I stared at the open lion’s mouth as water poured out of it into a half-moon pool.
Murdered.
Not just murdered.
Murdered because of who her family was.
Because of me.
“Did you know?” I asked softly, my voice barely carrying over the gurgling of the fountain.
Sebastian’s shoe scraped against the stone as he shifted his weight. “Know what?”
I curled my hands into fists, and I whirled to face him. “No. We’re not doing that. Not tonight. No more games, Sebastian. Did you know?”
He yanked on his bow tie, the silk whispering against his shirt as he pulled it loose.
Shrugging out of his jacket with deliberate slowness, he let out a low sigh. “I’ve already told you. Running into your father while living in Rome was unavoidable.”
My arms hung rigidly at my sides as I began pacing, the sharp click of my heels on the stone breaking the quiet. “What did that woman mean about my family?”
His hands slipped into his pockets. “Did you never wonder where all your mother’s money came from?”
“She said it was an old trust set up by her grandfather,” I snapped, stopping mid-step to glare at him.
“And why she kept the name Badalamenti, despite supposedly fleeing from Italy?”
I ran my fingers through my hair, pacing faster now, my movements sharp and frantic.
Sebastian stepped into my path, his hands firm but surprisingly gentle as they closed around my shoulders. “Badalamenti is an old Italian name with links to the early Sicilian Cosa Nostra. The mafia.”
I froze, staring up at him as the words hit me. “This is insane. Are you saying my family is part of the mob?”
Mafia.
Violent.
Dangerous.
Badalamenti.
My family.
His thumbs grazed the line of my collarbone, a maddeningly calming gesture. “I’m saying your family is…connected.”
I raised an eyebrow, heat rising in my chest. “Like the Diamantis are…connected.”
His jaw tensed, and after a pause, he answered, “Yes.”
“And the rumors of my mother being murdered?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Well, uncomplicate it, Sebastian.”
“It’s not that easy, Sabrina.”
I threw my arms up, breaking his hold and stepping back as anger surged through me. “How well do you know my father?”
His lips pressed into a thin line, his silence louder than any answer.
“Answer me, Sebastian. Are you and my father friends?”
“Far from it."
“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means precisely what I said.”
“That’s not a good enough answer!”
“It will have to be.”
“Are you seriously not going to tell me your relationship to my father?”
“No.”
My voice rose, raw and trembling with fury. “Answer me! Are you and my father conspiring together? Does he know who I am? Did he pay you to bring me to Rome?”
Sebastian raised an eyebrow, his expression cool and detached in a way that made my blood boil. “Do I look like a man who needs money?”
“Then did he blackmail you? Force you? Threaten you?”
His composure cracked. “I’m not in the habit of being questioned, Sabrina.”
I stumbled back, pressing a hand to my mouth as a shiver coursed through me.
My fingers trembled against my lips while I desperately tried to hold myself together, but the weight of everything—his secrets, the lies, and the traitorous, growing feelings I had for him—threatened to tear me apart.
“I can’t believe this is happening.”
Sebastian reached for me, his expression now back to unreadable, a cold mask, but I stepped back farther.
A low-hanging branch snagged on the embroidered fabric of my dress. Twisting my torso with more force than necessary, I tore it free, the sharp motion making my frustration boil over.
He took another step forward, calm and composed in that infuriating way that made my skin prickle. “Nothing is happening, Sabrina. You’re overwrought after seeing your father. That is all.”
I let out a bitter laugh, the sound ripping from my throat.
“I’m overwrought because I saw my father against my will for the first time in the middle of a crowded fucking ballroom.
I’m overwrought because there’s a rumor out there that he killed my mother.
I’m overwrought because apparently my family is the fucking mob!
I’m overwrought because I was brought to Italy under false pretenses.
And I’m overwrought because you have been lying to me from the beginning.
Don’t you dare tell me why I’m overwrought, Sebastian! ”
“How does you hearing some stupid fucking rumor from over twenty years ago somehow turn into an attack on me and why I brought you to Rome?”
“Because we both know I’m not here because you recognized my talent as a fashion stylist."
His hands flexed at his sides, the calm mask beginning to crack. “I’m tired of arguing over this, Sabrina.”
“Then stop fucking lying to me about it, Sebastian!” I shouted, my voice echoing in the stillness of the courtyard. “I’m not stupid. I might not know why, but I know I’m here because of my family name, not because of my talent.”
His lips pressing into a thin, hard line. “If you don’t calm down, I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” I narrowed my eyes.
He lunged for me, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat.
Grabbing my face with both hands, his grip firm but not cruel, his hot breath rasped against my skin. “This.”
Before I could respond, his mouth crashed onto mine with such force it stole the air from my lungs.
The kiss wasn’t soft or gentle—it was raw, demanding, and so overpowering it drowned out every coherent thought in my mind.