When She Falls (The Fallen, #3)(69)
The dinner wraps up, our parents bid Cleo and I goodbye, and the two of us head out with Ras to Rafaele’s club. Once we’re there, a bouncer leads us to the private entrance meant for VIPs.
I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been allowed to go to places like this. Our cousins took Cleo and I out to Papà’s club in the Meatpacking District two times, and there was one birthday party for a girl from my school. It says something about how close Papà is to Rafaele that he’s okay with Cleo and I coming here with just one escort.
“When were you going to mention that you’re leaving soon?” I ask Ras under the cover of the blaring music.
His palm finds a spot on my lower back. “I only just talked to Dem about it. I was going to tell you tonight, but Nero asked before I could.”
So Dem wants him home. I guess Ras accomplished whatever diplomatic mission he was sent here for, and now he has no reason to stay. I can hardly call my brother-in-law and ask him to lend me his underboss for a little longer because I feel things for him that I have no business feeling.
Maybe Ras’s decided I’m not worth the risk. Rafaele would kill him if he knew what we’ve done. It doesn’t matter that Rafaele doesn’t feel an ounce of attraction to me—by contract, I’m already his.
That realization is tough to swallow. I’m putting Ras in danger by keeping this thing between us going.
“I’m going to grab a drink,” Cleo says, ditching us and heading to the bar.
I’m still trying to collect my thoughts when Nero intercepts us moments after she leaves.
“There you are. This way,” he says, gesturing ahead. “Rafaele wants to speak to you, Gemma.”
Behind me, Ras stiffens. I shoot him a wary look and slip my hand into the crook of Nero’s offered arm.
My fiancé notices us approaching and acknowledges me with a nod. He’s in a huge round leather booth with a few of his men around him. They make space for me, Ras, and Nero.
Ras takes a seat on one end, Nero beside him, and I sit by Rafaele. If he notices the inches of space I’m careful to leave between us, he doesn’t say anything about it or make an attempt to move closer.
He reaches for a bottle of wine and pours me a glass.
I take a sip. “You wanted to talk to me?”
“You were distressed at our last dinner,” he says, pouring a glass for himself. “I wanted to see how you feel about my future role as the head of your family now that you’ve had some time to think about it.”
He wants my opinion. Didn’t I make myself clear? “You’re stealing something that doesn’t belong to you.”
His icy gaze drops to me, and fear zips up my spine. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ras crack his neck. He’s watching us but he can’t hear our conversation over the noise in the club.
“Stealing? The favor I’ll have to call in with the DA is not only worth millions of dollars, but also many lost lives and years of espionage. That favor took a lot of work to get. Giving me control of your family is the only thing your father could have offered me to make it a fair deal. He even managed to get a concession out of me—five more years as don.”
I clench my fists. He’s explaining all this to me with the confidence of someone who believes they’re in the right. It infuriates me.
“How is any of this fair if Papà’s using Vince and I as his chess pieces? Papà lied to me about why I had to marry you. He manipulated me.”
“And when I realized you didn’t know what you were signing up for, I told your father he had to come clean.” Rafaele places his glass on the table and rests his elbows on his knees. “He didn’t want to tell you the truth, but I made it clear he had to, or I’d walk from our deal. I’m not above lying to my enemies, but if we’re to become a family, I don’t want us to start on a foundation of lies.”
“How do you expect me to believe that when you’re still lying to me about Vince?”
Rafaele frowns. “How so?”
“I don’t believe for a second that he’s okay with this. He’s Papà’s only son. The position of don is his.”
Rafaele stares at me for a long while and then says, “The whole thing was your brother’s idea.”
I laugh. It’s a shock response, a thing to do when I can’t formulate words. My pulse gets louder and louder in my ears, and Rafaele just keeps staring, cataloging my reactions.
I want to hit him.
I want to punch him right in the face for being such as filthy fucking liar. “Bullshit.”
“Vince was pulled into our negotiations when Stefano and I couldn’t agree on the terms of our deal. Stefano thought his son might have some creative ideas, and he did. He said he didn’t want to become don because he wants to continue running his own things abroad. He asked me what I thought about becoming your father’s successor. I wasn’t sold at first. I thought he wasn’t being honest with me. But then I went to visit him in Switzerland and saw what he’s built there. It’s impressive.” Rafaele takes a sip of his drink. “He convinced me he really meant what he said. We had to work out how to get your family to accept me, and that’s when it became obvious I’d have to marry my way in. Vince thought you were the best option. I wasn’t sure it was going to work out, because you didn’t seem too agreeable or interested during our initial meeting. But then the war with the Riccis began, and your papa said you were on board. When I saw you months later, it appeared you’d changed your tune. You seemed committed, just like Vince said you would be. Your brother’s not a pawn, Gemma. He orchestrated all of it.”