When She Loves (The Fallen, #4)(2)

She’s always had my back. Now, it’s my turn to have hers.

I wrap my palms over her knees and look into her eyes. “Are you willing to fight for it?”

Gemma sniffs and wipes her cheeks. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

My chest tightens.

And so will I. For her, I’ll do anything. She deserves no less than that.

“Gem, I’ll take your place.”

Confusion flashes over her features. “What do you mean?”

I take a deep breath. “I’ll marry Rafaele.”





A day later, I’m sitting in an Italian restaurant in Chelsea owned by the Messeros.

This was supposed to be an intimate dinner with Rafaele’s immediate family and ours, so there are just seven other people scattered around the large dining table.

It’s quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Rafaele’s mother and uncle have barely said a word since we sat down. So far, the conversation’s been dominated by Papà, but even he’s got his mouth shut now. A drop of sweat rolls down his pockmarked temple, and the sight of it fills me with satisfaction.

Nervous? You should be.

Gemma asked to speak with Rafaele alone just a few minutes ago, and now they’re talking in his office. Everyone can sense something is wrong. My sister’s supposed to be getting married in three days, but if their conversation goes well, it won’t be Gemma walking down the aisle.

It will be me.

Mamma is staring at her plate, her jaw tight. Beside her, my brother, Vince, is swirling the wine in his glass, a notch between his brows. I glance to my right, over Gemma and Rafaele’s empty seats, and lock eyes with Nero De Luca, Rafaele’s consigliere. For once, that annoying mountain of a man looks a bit uncertain. He lifts his brows, like he’s asking me if I know what this is all about.

As if I’d ever tell him. He’s just as bad as his tyrannical boss.

While it’s a bit thrilling to be the only one here in on the secret, what’s not thrilling is knowing that the best-case scenario ends with me walking out of here as an engaged woman.

I vowed I’d never marry a mobster.

But for Gemma, I’ll break that vow without any regrets.

Footsteps sound, and a moment later, the two of them reappear.

My heart jumps into my throat. I search Gemma’s expression for a hint of how it went, but she’s looking at the ground as she hurries over. As soon as she slips into her chair beside me, I take her hand and give it a squeeze. She squeezes back twice.

Is that good or bad?

Before I can ask her how it went, Rafaele stops at the head of the table like he’s about to announce something.

I turn my attention to him.

Sculpted cheekbones.

Jaw line carved into a firm, decisive line.

Muscular build that even the sleek tailoring of his black suit can’t hide.

In another universe, Rafaele Messero could have been an underwear model, but in this one, the only thing he’s modeling is how to be the most intimidating man in a room full of killers.

At twenty-seven, he’s the youngest don New York has seen in decades, but he’s already gained a reputation for being the most brutal.

A shiver slithers down my spine. I might be marrying this guy.

I should probably be more afraid of him, but I’m not. I’ve long since trained myself not to think too hard about the consequences of my actions. Papà and Mamma have spent their lives trying to keep me on a tight leash, and if I worried about how they’d punish me every time I broke their stupid rules, I’d never have any fun.

Of course, back then, I didn’t know Gemma often paid the price for my indiscretions.

Rafaele drags a tanned hand over his black silk tie. “The engagement is off.”

For a second, my lungs seize.

Holy shit. It’s done.

“What?” my father barks, his gaze darting between Rafaele and Gemma.

“Take a breath, Garzolo,” Nero warns, sensing the impending meltdown.

“You promised me a virgin bride,” Rafaele says. “And Gemma is not a virgin.”

Papà’s face turns red. “Nonsense.”

“Garzolo, she admitted to it herself,” Rafaele says.

“She’s unwell. You know how she’s been ever since she returned to us. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” Gemma says firmly as she stands up.

Nero clicks his tongue. “It seems to me like she’s quite in control of her mental faculties, Garzolo.”

Papà rises, his chair skidding out behind him. “This is a misunderstanding. Let me talk to my daughter in private.”

No way in hell. He’s not going anywhere near her again.

I move to put myself between my father and Gemma, but my brother beats me to it. Vince stares down Papà, his jaw a hard line.

“I’m done talking to you,” Gemma spits out, peering around Vince. “It’s already been decided. I won’t be marrying Rafaele.”

Papà tries to come closer, but Vince blocks his path. “Sit down,” my brother snaps.

“Get out of my way,” Papà snarls at him. “Gemma, what the hell is this? How dare you—”

Gemma slams her fist against the table. “How dare I? How dare you demand anything from me after what you’ve done? I spent my life trying to keep you happy, only to get beaten by you and emotionally abused by Mamma. You’ve never loved me. I don’t think you’ve ever loved any of your kids. I’m through with you. My only regret is that it took me this long to get here.”