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

CLEO


The door behind me opens without a single knock.

That’s a first. The maid usually knocks before she brings in my meals.

I tear my gaze away from the view of my fiancé’s garden through the arched bedroom window and turn. A strange woman I haven’t seen before stands in the doorway.

Black button-up shirt, gray knee-length skirt, and a sensible pair of Mary Janes. The outfit screams uniform, but it’s different from the one the maid wears.

She gives me a cross look, her gaze critically scanning my body, and her lips curling at my two-day-old clothes.

I’m still in the same dress I wore to the dinner where Gemma announced she’s pregnant. I would have loved to change into something else, but for whatever reason, the maid only brought me Rafaele’s T-shirts.

No thanks.

The woman closes the door and chucks a black garment bag onto the unmade bed. “Go shower. You need to get ready for your rehearsal dinner. The Messeros will all be here to see you, and you will not embarrass the don by looking like something the cat dragged in.”

Wow. Sounds just like Mamma.

When I don’t move, she scowls at me. “Are you deaf?”

Mild indignation coasts over my skin. Who the hell is she? She’s got a mean look and a mean mouth, but what she doesn’t realize yet is that I can be far meaner.

I march over to her until I encroach into her personal space. Her eyes widen. When I grab her wrist and squeeze hard, she gasps.

“Where is my sister?” I demand.

She jerks her wrist out of my grip, anger flashing over her face. “How should I know? You ever touch me like that again, and you’ll regret it. I’ve worked for the Messeros for two decades, and this is the first time I’ve been tasked to take care of a whore.” She spits out that last word as if it’s poison on her tongue.

I scoff. Does she think she can intimidate me? It’ll take a lot more than a few cruel words. “I need to know what happened to my sister. Can you find out while I get dressed?”

The woman’s scowl becomes even uglier. “Ungrateful slut. I serve at the don’s orders, not yours. The guests are arriving in an hour, so you better go wash up now.” Her eyes narrow at my hair. “It’ll take ages to tame that red mop you’ve got on your head.”

If I hadn’t bitten off all my nails while being locked alone in this bedroom, I would have raked them over her face, but in their absence, I have to settle on just glowering at her. “My sister—”

“If you want to know so badly about your stupid sister, you can ask the don at the rehearsal dinner,” she snaps.

Red bleeds into my vision. She can call me any name she wants—I’ve heard the same and worse from my own parents for years—but if she says another word about Gemma…

I count to three in my head so that I don’t fly off the rails. Until I know Gem’s safe, I have to play this carefully. It’s why I’ve sat quietly in this room for two whole days, not causing any trouble, waiting and hoping the man I’m supposed to marry in my sister’s place kept his word and let her go.

When I can’t stand to look at the old woman’s hateful face any longer, I whip around and grab the bag she threw on the bed.

Inside the bathroom, I lock the door behind me and look in the mirror.

I don’t recognize the girl staring back at me.

I’ve barely slept, I haven’t showered, and there are dark bags under my eyes. My worry is a churning mass inside the pit of my belly.

Gem, where are you? Did you make it? Did you manage to escape?

When Rafaele brought me here, I didn’t expect him to keep me cut off from the world until our wedding. He took my cell phone. He also must have instructed the maid who’s been bringing me food not to answer any of my questions.

Well, that bitch in my bedroom is not going to tell me anything either, so I guess I have no choice but to hope I can find out more at this rehearsal dinner.

I shrug off my old dress and step into the shower.

The wedding is tomorrow. It still doesn’t feel real.

This is like a nightmare I can’t wake up from.

At least I can sort of imagine what the celebration will be like, given I sat in on a few of the meetings Gemma had with the wedding planner.

But what happens after tomorrow?

That’s where I draw a blank.

Me. A married woman.

My vision grows fuzzy, so I brace my palms against the shower wall. If I knew Gem made it to Ras, I wouldn’t give a fuck if I fell and snapped my neck, but I’ve got to stay alive until I’m sure she’s safe.

It’s about the only reason I’ve got left to live.

I can hear an echo of Gem’s voice inside my ear. Stop being so dramatic, Cleo.

How can I not be dramatic when my life is a fucking tragedy?

I dry myself off and peel open the zipper on the garment bag. Inside is a dress.

It’s pretty. Cream-colored, smooth satin fabric with capped lace sleeves, and a V-cut neckline. I stare at it while I pat my hair dry by the bathroom sink. It looks vaguely familiar.

Hold on. Is this the dress Gem was going to wear tonight?

I put it on. It’s short on me and tight around the chest, just like all the clothes I’ve ever borrowed from my sister.

Nostalgia wraps around me.