When She Falls (The Fallen, #3)(71)

A horrified gasp leaves my throat.

The knife is sticking out of Ludovico’s eye socket.

Get Cleo.

I’m the first one to move. I run toward her, some primal part of me kicking into action and screaming at me to get her away from here. “Cleo! Come here!”

But she doesn’t hear me. When I reach her, she’s staring down at Ludovico in horror, her back pressed against the rail. Her skin is milky white with shock.

Rafaele tears his gaze from Ludovico and pins it on her. “You have blood on your shoes.” His voice is calm and measured. I suspect if I checked his pulse right now, it would be as steady as a clock.

He just stabbed a man through the eye, and he’s acting like nothing happened.

My stomach turns.

Cleo looks down, and when she sees Rafaele’s right about the blood, she sags against me.

Rafaele locks eyes with someone behind me. “Get them out.”

Ras steps forward. I hadn’t even realized he was right beside me this whole time. “Let’s go.”

He and I grab Cleo under each arm and hurry out of the club.

“Wait here,” Ras commands once we step onto the sidewalk. “I’m going to get the car and bring it around.”

“Okay.” I wrap my arms around Cleo and press my nose into her hair. She’s trembling.

“Hey, are you okay?” I squeeze her harder. “Say something.”

She shakes her head. I think she’s crying.

“Are you hurt anywhere? Do we need to take you to a hospital?”

“No.” Her voice is reedy.

When I try to pull away so I can look at her, she clings to me tighter. My chest cracks. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen her this shaken. When our parents are angry with her, it’s like she’s Teflon. All of their words slide right off.

“Cleo, I love you,” I squeeze past the ball in my throat. “You’re okay. You’ll be okay.”

She produces a wet little whimper. My arms squeeze her tightly, and it still doesn’t feel like enough.

“C’mon, Cleo. Talk to me.”

She breathes deeply against me for a few moments before lifting her head off my shoulder. Her eyes are red and puffy, and there’s a hint of mascara smudged underneath them. “Gem, his blood is on me.”

A shiver runs through me. “We’ll get you cleaned up.”

“I don’t want to go home.” She clutches my arm. “Can we go to the penthouse? It’s not far. I don’t want to deal with Mamma or Papà tonight. I just want to go to sleep.”

The family has a penthouse that overlooks Central Park. I’m pretty sure it’s where Papà takes his whores, but the family uses it from time to time too. It’s not a bad idea to spend the night there.

We get into the car, and I give Ras directions.

He nods. “I can call your father and explain everything to him. Do you have a key?”

“I know the code.”

Ras dials Papà, and while they talk, I wrap an arm around Cleo and pull her into me.





CHAPTER 23





GEMMA


We stumble into the penthouse directly from the elevator.

It looks like a museum. Renovated by a famous interior architect that cost Papà a pretty penny, it’s all sleek lines, subtle textures, and mood lighting.

It’s a status item, not a place meant to be lived in.

Still, it’s better we’re here than back home where Mamma and Papà would put Cleo and I through an interrogation. I’m not sure I can even stand to look at my father after everything Rafaele told me tonight.

At least this way, that’ll have to wait until tomorrow.

I get Cleo cleaned up and set her up in one of the bedrooms. She passes out promptly after taking a sleeping pill. I grab a wet washcloth from the bathroom, wipe the smeared makeup off her face, and tuck her in.

God, she looks so young. Sometimes I forget she’s only eighteen. The tip of her nose is pink from crying, and her lips are covered with bite marks. She was gnawing on them the entire ride here, while I clutched her hand and tried to think of something comforting to say.

We’ve always lived surrounded by violence, but what Rafaele did to Ludovico was more brutal than anything I’ve ever seen. And Cleo was right there when it happened.

Poor thing.

Did Rafaele jump to her defense because he wanted to help her? Or because he wanted to show me how serious he is about treating Garzolos like his own family?

Papà must have mentioned to Rafaele that Cleo and Ludovico might be getting engaged. With Rafaele being the successor, it’s unfathomable that something like that wouldn’t come up in their discussions. Ludovico was out of line, but if Papà had been there, he would have gotten Ludovico away from Cleo and reprimanded him. He wouldn’t have taken an eye out like Rafaele did.

I sigh. Whatever drove Rafaele to do what he did, it’s a reminder that danger lurks just beneath his icy surface.

I press a light kiss to Cleo’s forehead and leave.

I stop in the kitchen to get a glass of water. As I fill my glass, my gaze catches on my emerald ring.

I hate the damn thing and what it represents. Now that I’m not around my family or Rafaele, I don’t need to have it on, so I slide it off my finger and leave it on the counter.