When She Falls (The Fallen, #3)(28)

“Come again?”

She lifts her glass of wine to her lips. “I mean, he’s got to be like six-six? Six-seven? If his body is proportional, his penis must be—”

“Cleo! He’s right there!” I whisper hiss.

She purses her lips at my outrage and casts an unconcerned look to where Nero is sitting across from us.

“He can’t hear us,” Cleo says. “You probably wouldn’t be able to walk after he’s done with you.”

My cheeks heat. “What’s gotten into you? Need I remind you this is the man who tied your wrists with a zip tie and taped your mouth shut a day ago?”

She rolls her eyes. “First of all, my memory is just fine, thanks. And second of all, Nero didn’t do that. He just carried me into the car. The rest was your fiancé. Who, by the way, is staring.”

I shoot a discrete glance at Rafaele. “Yeah, at you,” I hiss. “He probably overheard you.”

A smirk unfurls over my sister’s lips. “God forbid I bruised his ego by talking about his consigliere’s package instead of his. Just look at Rafaele. He’s so wooden. Even with that handsome face, something tells me no one’s rushing to jump into his bed. He can’t exactly glare his way to a woman’s orgasm.”

I tug on her arm. “Do I really need to remind you that’s my future husband you’re talking about?” I say, my voice clipped.

Her expression sours. “Right. Sorry.” Her gaze drops to my hand and turns admiring. “At least the ring he gave you is beautiful.”

“Yeah.”

She notes the lack of enthusiasm in my voice and snorts. “You hate it, don’t you?”

The ring isn’t my style. I like dainty jewelry that I can layer, the kind Mamma always tells me looks cheap. She was thrilled when she saw the enormous emerald.

“I guess we have slightly different tastes,” I offer.

My sister studies me carefully. “You don’t want him.”

A wave of frustration rolls through me. “Just don’t, Cleo. You think I haven’t heard enough of this from Vale?”

“You keep hearing it because it’s true. You don’t want to marry Rafaele. It’s obvious.”

“You’re all missing the point. What I want doesn’t matter.”

Cleo’s lips thin with pity. “When did you internalize that, Gem? It’s really sad you think that way.”

My hands curl into fists on my lap. God, I’m so sick of these conversations. “No, you know what’s sad? The way you don’t seem to see the big picture. My marriage will strengthen our family. You know, that silly thing you and Vale seem to scoff at. Have you forgotten what we just lived through? Tito’s gone. Our uncles…gone. If I have to make a sacrifice to prevent that from happening again, I’ll do it.”

“God, Gemma. You sound just like Mamma. Always helping clean up Papà’s messes for him.”

My anger rises to a boil. “This has nothing to do with Papà.”

“If he wants to get in bed with Rafaele that badly, maybe he should marry him,” Cleo snaps. “Instead, he’s getting you to bail him out.”

“It’s not. About. Him,” I growl. “I am not doing this for him. I’m doing this for Nona, who has to worry about her grandsons bleeding out in the street. I’m doing this for Aunt Lia and Aunt Daniela, who’ve got four sons between them as made men. Don’t you care about anyone but yourself?”

Cleo’s face turns red. “How noble of you, Gemma. Did it ever occur to you that all those men chose to be made? They knew what they were getting themselves into.”

I laugh. “Honestly, Cleo, it’s time you stop living in fantasy land. We were all born into this life. We can’t do anything about it, so why don’t you try to accept it?”

“Vale didn’t.”

“Look where she ended up.” I gesture at the restaurant. “She’s married to a fucking don. She may have left New York, but she never left our world. Few ever do. So enough, all right?”

Cleo’s eyes are shining by the time I’m done. She shoots out of her seat, throws her napkin on the table, and storms away in the direction of the bathroom.

I look at the calm waters of the Mediterranean and let out a long breath. My stomach groans. I think that fish is definitely not sitting well with me.

When Cleo returns, we don’t speak. Over the next two hours, there are dozens of courses and as many toasts from Damiano’s capos. Their fast-paced Italian quickly becomes background noise since I’m not fluent in the language. I pick at my food but don’t get very far with any of it. There’s a steady ache inside my belly. The air should have cooled by now, but I’m still feeling too hot.

From time to time, I get the same feeling I had at the church. Like someone’s watching me. I don’t need to look in Ras’s direction to know it’s him. For the life of me, I don’t know why he keeps staring at me. It makes me feel exposed.

My abdomen is as hard as a rock. I pop a pill from my purse and put on a brave face, because that’s the only option I have. This wedding is what we came here for. Mamma would never allow me to leave the dinner early.

I’m sipping on some water when I feel a presence at my back.