Chapter 19
Gemma
I wake to Saint's hand on my shoulder.
For a moment, one beautiful, stupid moment, I think everything is okay. That he's come to bed. That maybe we can talk. That maybe—
"Get dressed." His voice is cold. "We need to go."
I blink sleep from my eyes. The clock reads 1:47 AM.
"What? Where?" Panic claws at my throat. What is going on? He's not panicked, so I don't think we are under attack, which means something else…
"Just get dressed. Now."
Something in his tone makes my stomach drop. But I get out of bed and pull-on jeans, a sweater. My hands are shaking.
Is this it? Is Saint going to kill me?
The idea makes my stomach lurch.
I'd been so sure that he wouldn't kill me, but now, I feel as though I'd miscalculated. Saint, like my brother, made it clear that the family came before anything. The only difference between the two is that nothing comes before Sera for Adrian.
I hated that at first.
Now, I wish I knew what that type of loyalty felt like.
"Saint, what's going on?" I swallow back the shakiness.
"Downstairs. Five minutes."
I stand in the room, shaking my head. "No."
The shadows of the room play on his face. "No?" His cheekbones are sharp, his green eyes marred with shadows. I can see some of his tattoos peeking out of his shirt. He looks every inch the dangerous Mafia Don.
But if he's going to kill me, I'm going to die on my feet.
"I'm not going until you tell me where we are going."
He takes a step towards me. Even though I'm trembling, I don't back down. "I'll drag you by your fucking hair if I have to," he snarls.
"I'm sure," I say, trying to be calm, even. "But if you are going to kill me, I'd like to know." I really don't want to know. How does one even prepare for death, especially at the hand of the man you’ve fallen in love with?
Saint reacts like I've slapped him. It's the first real emotion I've seen.
His shoulders drop slightly, and he runs a hand through his hair. "I'm not going to kill you Gemma, but please, for the love of God, just do what I'm asking. For once."
He leaves before I can ask anything else.
I stand there, heart pounding, trying to decide what to do next.
Something's wrong.
I consider locking the door, hiding, or trying to escape. I glance out my window.
Would the fall kill me? Would that be better?
I shake away the idea.
Saint said he wasn't going to kill me.
I don't trust him, but I trust that. He’s never lied to me. At least, as far as I know.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and go downstairs. Whatever is going on, I can't hide from it.
He's waiting by the door. He won't meet my eyes.
"Saint—"
"Car. Now."
Emmanuel is waiting.
Saint gets in beside me, and he’s still not looking at me.
I want to ask more questions, but I don't think I can talk without my voice trembling, and I refuse to give Saint the satisfaction of knowing I'm terrified.
The car starts moving. I watch the streets pass, trying to figure out where we're headed.
Then I see it. The turn onto the street I grew up on.
"We're going to Adrian's?" My voice rises. "Saint, why are we going to Adrian's? It's two in the morning—"
"He wants to see you."
Panic claws at my throat. There's no way this is good.
"Is Sera alright? Angelo?" God, did Alexei make a move. I feel sick, and I almost scream for Emmanuel to pull over, so I could spill my guts.
But then, Saint finally looks at me, and what I see in his eyes makes my blood run cold.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
He's not reacting.
And I know, instinctually, I know what this means.
"Saint." My hand reaches for his. "What did you do?"
He pulls away. "What needed to be done." He doesn't look at me again. His eyes are straight ahead—dead.
The car stops in front of the Nero mansion. It looks so different from the place I've grown up. I wonder, as we step outside, if it was always so foreboding.
Luc is waiting at the door. His face is grim.
"Gemma." He looks at Saint. "You sure about this?"
"It's done."
"What's done?" I'm looking between them. "Someone tell me what's happening—" My tone is high-pitched, practically a screech, as panic sets inside my chest. My heart is beating so fast, I worry it's going to explode. I press a hand to my sternum, trying to ease that ache.
"Inside," Saint says. His hand finds my elbow. Not gentle. Guiding. Firm.
I try to pull away, but he presses his fingers into my elbow. "Saint, I'm not going in there until you tell me—"
"Now, Gemma." His grip tightens so hard, I nearly buckle. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."
Luc opens the door all the way, allowing Saint to walk me through. We go down the familiar hallway. Past the formal living room where Bianca used to hold court. Past the dining room where we had family dinners.
To Adrian's study.
The door is open. My brother stands behind his desk, face like thunder.
He knows. I know he knows.
I freeze. My weight deadens, and I would have fallen to the ground if Saint hadn't been holding on to me.
Saint's hand on my back propels me inside, and I nearly fall on the antique oriental that once belonged to my mother.
Tears of embarrassment and betrayal prickle, but I refuse to let them fall.
"Gemma." Adrian's voice could freeze blood. "Sit down."
"What's going on?" I look back at Saint. He's standing by the door. Arms crossed. Face blank. "Saint, what—"
"Sit. Down." Adrian's voice cracks like a whip.
I sit. My legs are shaking so hard I can't hold myself up any longer.
Saint doesn't sit. Doesn't come closer. He just stands there, at the door watching, waiting.
Adrian moves around the desk, stopping in front of me. I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.
"Do you know why you're here?"
Yes.
"No."
"Let me enlighten you." He's breathing hard. He's gripping the edge of the desk hard, his fingers flexing on the wood. "Your husband told me something very interesting. About what you've been doing for the past few months."
My heart stops, and I'm sure I'm going to drop dead from the betrayal.
I look at Saint. He won't meet my eyes, and I know that he did exactly what Adrian is saying.
"He told me," Adrian continues, voice deadly quiet, "that you've been feeding him information about our family. That you helped him attack our operations. That when he stopped, you went to the fucking Russians."
The world tilts, and it's a miracle I'm still conscious.
I suspected Adrian knew. But I never imagined Saint would be the one to tell him. To sell me out completely.
"Adrian…"
"Don't fucking try to lie to me!" Adrian's hand slams on the desk beside me. I flinch, keeping my lips sealed. "I have details. Dates. Operations. Everything your husband was kind enough to share."
I'm going to be sick.
"Adrian, please, let me explain—"
"Explain what? That you betrayed your family? That you put Sera and Angelo at risk? That you worked with our enemies?" He reaches out so fast I don't even see it coming. His hand fists in my hair, yanks my head back. I yelp in surprise. "What explanation could possibly make that acceptable?"
"I protected Sera! I made sure Alexei wouldn't touch her or Angelo—"
There's no point in trying to deny what he already knows. Saint sold me out.
"You gave him the means to hurt them and think protecting them afterward makes up for it?" He's in my face now. "You stupid, selfish little brat. I told you that I had no choice, that the contract was already in place. I fucking told you."
Tears are streaming down my face. "I was angry—"
"So, you commit treason!"
"You sold me!" The words explode out. Rage. Betrayal. Terror. It all crashes together until I can't tell one feeling from another.
"You sold me to him!" I point at Saint, who's still standing there like a statue. "You didn't ask what I wanted! You didn't care that I was terrified! You just traded me away like I was nothing!"
"So, this is revenge?" Adrian laughs, sharp and cruel. "Poor little Gemma, married against her will, so she decides to destroy her family?"
"I wasn't trying to destroy—"
I stop. Close my eyes. There's no point finishing that lie. Adrian doesn't care. He doesn't think he's done anything wrong.
"Then what were you trying to do?" He releases my hair, steps back. I fall to the floor at his feet. "Enlighten me. What was your plan?"
I look at Saint. Silently begging him to say something. To defend me. To tell Adrian this isn't all my fault, that he was part of it too.
He says nothing. He doesn't even have the decency to look at me.
"I wanted—" My voice breaks. "I wanted to matter. I wanted to be more than just a baby making machine. More than a bargaining chip."
"So, you betrayed everyone who ever loved you because you wanted power."
He spits the word out like it's dirty, and it makes me fucking hate him even more. What the hell does he know? Where the hell does he get off. He's done worse for power. So has Saint.
I struggle to my feet. Legs shaking because I'm not going to lay at his feet. He wants to punish me; he can do it while I remind him of his own bullshit.
"No one has ever loved me!" The words rip out of my chest. I point at him.
"Bianca used me! You sold me! Saint—" I laugh.
"Saint fucked me until I was raw and bleeding just to give his uncle a fucking kid.
I'm just a thing to all of you. A thing to be traded and used and thrown away when I'm not convenient anymore! "
By the end, I'm screaming. I'm angry. I'm deflated.
Adrian stares at me for a long moment, and I wonder if my words actually penetrated his thick skull.
Does he feel guilty?
Then his hand connects with my face.
Nope.
The slap snaps my head to the side. Pain explodes across my cheek. I collapse to the floor.
I hear Saint move—a sharp intake of breath, a step forward.
But he stops. Doesn't intervene. Just watches.
Adrian had never hit me before. Ever. We were always in this together. He took care of me when our father died.
Protected me.
Apparently, that's over now.