Chapter 31
Gina
I’m exhausted.
For the past few days, that memory of my father has continued to replay in my mind, like it’s the only memory I have.
I don’t vomit each time, but the nausea is hell.
The throbbing in my head doesn’t help, but I don’t know if that’s the phantom pain associated with the memory or if I might be getting dehydrated.
Etta has been plying me with some homemade remedy that her grandmother swore by, and it helps. But I swear, if I drink anything more with ginger in it, that might become my cause of nausea and vomiting.
Tommaso didn’t want to leave me, but he had a meeting to finalize the formation of the Chamber.
This isn’t just a verbal agreement sealed with a handshake; these are blood contracts—the binding ones in this world—and those require him to attend in person.
Tommaso has been working from home so much since I was released from the hospital, and I insisted that he couldn’t postpone this meeting.
Not when it meant peace. And, of course, prosperity. I’m not na?ve enough to think this agreement is being made mostly to expand the power and wealth of these five criminal entities; however, the peace and stability it brings can’t be dismissed.
I’m in the family room, reading, curled up under a blanket. I’ve contemplated starting the fireplace, because it’s storming outside and the temperature has dropped drastically, and I can’t chase away this chill.
I haven’t been able to read much of the book, though, due to the flashes of that horrid memory constantly pushing in with my father telling me horrible things about Tommaso.
My brain must be twisting it into a distorted version of what happened. Or maybe it didn’t even happen; maybe it’s a mix of real and imagined details. Marie mentioned that something like that is a possibility, and I’ve read that as well in my research on amnesia.
There are two other reasons I’m having trouble concentrating.
One reason is because of worrying since my negative pregnancy test, and that I might not be able to get pregnant.
The other is the feeling of being an imposter in this world, in my own home, that grows every time that horrid memory of my father replays.
I’m a nobody… Why would Tommaso want me? Why would he marry a woman like me? my mind whispers.
Then my father voice says,“He never wanted you. Not the way you thought and hoped. He was using you… wanting you to be his whore.”
It’s a vicious cycle that worsens each time it happens.
Frustrated, I put the book down and throw back the blanket. The sound of a loud commotion makes me pause when I stand.
My heart quickens, thinking that we’re under attack, even though the estate is a secure fortress.
But then I hear a man shouting in Italian, “Why the hell are you trying to prevent me from entering my house, Adolfo? Jerome? I’ll have both your heads for this.”
My house?
That has to be Stefano.
The commanding voice booms, reaching where I am in the family room, and I hurry to go investigate.
I know the situation with Tommaso here, and that ultimately, this is his father’s territory, including the house. I may not have met my father-in-law yet, but I am Tommaso’s wife, so I can hopefully ease the tension and prevent anyone from getting into trouble.
I had no idea that Stefano was coming. I have even less idea of why Adolfo and Jerome would try to stop him from coming into the house, but I’m not going to sit by and let this escalate.
When I leave the family room through the arched doorway, I turn left to head toward the front of the house. As I reach the end of the hall to turn, Etta comes around the corner and flies into me.
Her eyes are wide and panicked. “Go to your room, Gina.”
I hear Stefano shout again, along with another man whose voice I don’t recognize. “I’ll do no such thing.” When I hear a woman’s voice adding to the chaos, I quickly step around Etta and go around the corner.
I can see the front door as I quickly walk toward them.
It’s easy to pick out Stefano from the group because he’s an older version of Tommaso.
There’s another man with him that I don’t recognize.
Which doesn’t surprise me, given my amnesia and the fact that Tommaso hasn’t introduced me to anyone from his world.
The young woman with them is stunning. If I had to guess, I’d say she was my age.
Flawless skin, perfect make-up, and a sheet of ebony hair that’s so straight, I wonder how she keeps it that way, especially with the current storm.
She’s dressed in a beautiful red pantsuit that screams haute couture, and her perfectly manicured nails match her outfit.
She’s everything I’m not: poised, polished perfection. I feel suddenly lesser than in my cashmere sweater and slacks, with my hair mussed from reclining on the sofa, and not a stitch of make-up on.
She turns, her eyes landing on me, and immediately stops talking to the man beside Stefano. Her mouth opens in shock, and I have a surge of intense dislike for this woman.
Do I know her? Have we met before?
Her blue eyes narrow on me. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Excuse me?” My dislike for this woman spikes. Etta comes beside me, wringing her hands, but I remain focused on the other woman.
“Daddy, why is she here?” She whirls to the other man standing by Tommaso’s father. “Why is Gina here in Tommaso’s house?”
Okay, so this woman and I know each other. And I’m going out on a limb and guessing she isn’t one of the few friends I had.
Stefano is studying me with a hard, unreadable expression. Then his gaze flicks to Adolfo and Jerome, who look just as panicked and worried as Etta. When I look at the other man, his eyes are narrowed on me, just like his daughter’s.
“Why is Tommaso’s whore here, Stefano?” he demands.
I jerk like he slapped me.
He never wanted you. Not the way you thought and hoped. He was using you…wanting you to be his whore.
When I look back at the young woman, flashes of a memory break free out of the black abyss, and I see her in a gorgeous white dress with her arm linked with a man’s. It’s like a picture from a news article. When I try to focus on the man’s face, though, the memory blurs and fades.
“Who are you, young lady?” Stefano’s voice isn’t cold or harsh, but it’s not friendly, either.
“She’s Gina Caruso,” the young woman sneers. “A nobody.”
I tremble slightly and fight the urge to run.
“Franco Caruso’s daughter?” Stefano asks, shocked, his stoic mask falling.
“She’s missing.” The other man looks between Stefano and me.
“What the hell is she doing here?” he demands of Stefano, then looks back at me with that narrowed gaze that makes me feel like I’m shrinking to be the nobody the woman accused me of being.
“Why is Tommaso hiding her here—a nobody slut—when he’s supposed to be getting ready to marry my daughter? ”
All the saliva vanishes in my mouth, and I swallow multiple times, trying to wet my burning throat. “What?” I force out.
Tommaso, getting ready to marry her? There has to be some mistake. I can never imagine him agreeing to marry a woman like her. Yes, she’s beautiful, but she oozes narcissistic, vain bitchiness.
Plus, he’s married to me.
And why did this man say I was missing?
“Let’s wait until Tommaso—”
“Silence,” Stefano barks at Jerome without looking away from me. “Gina, why are you in my son’s home?”
“I…” I wet my lips. “It’s my home as well.”
The woman laughs, a wicked glint in her eye. “Oh, that’s rich.”
“Rosa,” her father snaps, and she glares at me.
“You mean, Tommaso is letting you stay here,” Stefano says. “But why is he keeping you hidden? People are looking for you.”
I start to shake harder, and I have to lock my knees to stop them from buckling. “I don’t know what you mean…” I shake my head. “I’m not missing. I’ve been with Tommaso the whole time.”
“Fucking him like a good whore, I see.” The look the other man is giving me makes my skin crawl, and he nods. “After he and Rosa, I wouldn’t fault him for keeping you around.”
“What?” I choke.
“Daddy!” Rosa shrieks, but she snaps her mouth shut when he levels her with a cold glare.
Stefano seems to vibrate with anger as he looks at the other man before his mask is in place once more, and he turns to me. “Gina—”
“I’m not a whore.” I stiffen my spine, needing to do that to stop from collapsing to the floor. “And I’m not missing. I’ve been with Tommaso since I was discharged from the hospital. Because I’m his wife.”
Silence fills the house, and I see Adolfo close his eyes briefly. When he opens them again, he looks at me with escalating worry.
Then Rosa starts to laugh, and a shudder wracks through me, feeling like someone just walked over my grave.
“Oh, you stupid bitch,” she says with glee. “Tommaso and I are engaged. Our families have signed a contract. And in our world, that’s a blood contract.”
My heart hammers, knowing what she means.
But I shake my head, trembling harder. “No. We’re married. We renewed our vows recently because of my amnesia, and I couldn’t remember the first time we had gotten married.”
That makes Rosa double over with laughter, and she clutches her chest when she stands, catching her breath with tears running down her cheeks. “Oh, this is rich. Amnesia? Oh my god. Vow renewal because you couldn’t remember your first wedding?”
“Because there was no first wedding,” her father says.
“No.” I shake my head. “No, that’s not what happened.”
“But you have no memory, right?” Rosa hikes a finely arched eyebrow and wipes the tears from under her eyes with her perfectly manicured nails. “How na?ve and stupid could you be?”
“He was merely fucking you while waiting to marry Rosa.” Her father eyes me again. “And no man can fault him for wanting to use such a fine piece of ass such as yourself.”
I may not have my memories, but I know I’ve never been spoken to like this before.
“How dare you.” But my words quiver rather than come out strong. “That is not what happened. Tommaso and I are married. We renewed our vows.”
But when I look at Adolfo and Jerome, and see their concerned looks laced with what I can only describe as pity, I stumble back.
“I want her tossed out of my house.” Rosa waves at me, looking around.
“A nobody like her doesn’t deserve to be in a place like this.
” She looks back at me with a malicious smile.
“Unless, since you have no place to go, you can be the hired help until you get on your feet. But, believe me, Gina, when I say you’re done fucking my husband. I’ll be the only woman he needs.”
She turns to Etta. “Show me to my suite of rooms. I’m assuming they’ll be right next to Tommaso’s. Though once we marry, I expect all my stuff to be moved into his room.” She flashes me a venomous look. “And I want the whore’s stuff removed from his room immediately if any of it is in there.”
“No.” I stumble back, refusing to believe this. But there’s a feeling, a vague memory, that’s warning me that this is real.
With a burst of light that makes my head throb, the image surges forth. It’s the news article picture with Rosa holding a man’s arm, and his face is now revealed in the memory.
It’s… Tommaso.
And he’s looking down at Rosa.
My heart races, threatening to rip out of my chest.
But it’s the headline of the news article that makes it feel like it really is ripping out of my chest.
San Francisco’s Most Sought-After King Has Found His Queen.
I can’t breathe. The pain within me swells until I feel like I might never breathe again.
Rosa wasn’t lying.
With a sob trapped in my chest, I spin on my heel and run deeper into the house, trying to outrun my reality, but I know it’s useless.
I’m a nobody.
The memory of my father wasn’t distorted or something my mind had made up.
It was wholly and unequivocally real.
Tommaso lied. He’s been lying to me since I woke up in the hospital. That’s all he’s been doing.
I’m not his sun; I’m not his anything…except his whore.