“Who the hell do you think you are?” Gemma wipes her lips slowly, making a show of her disgust.
My stomach bottoms out. She’s upset.
Her nostrils flare. “Do you know what would happen to me if my father saw what you just did?” She gives her head an indignant shake. “I should have known. I should have left this kitchen as soon as you appeared.”
It’s a game between us, isn’t it? I kissed her. She kneed me. We’re even. Only she doesn’t seem to think so. “Gemm—”
She slams her fist against the counter, her eyes blazing with fury. “This is the hardest time of my life. I’m barely managing as is. And you’ve come along and decided to make me into your entertainment. Don’t you think I have enough problems to deal with as is? Or do you think this is fun for me? Hearing people talk about how crazy the family that I’m marrying into is? It’s a joke for them, but there’s nothing funny about it. It’s my fucking life. My life they’re laughing at. Me.”
I feel my blood seep out of my face.
Fuck. I hurt her.
Now I’m the one panicking. “No one is laughing at you.”
She snarls. “You are. You don’t even bother trying to disguise it. You’re either mocking me or you’re trying to dissect me like I’m some lab animal. Leave me alone. I’m not doing this for myself. I’m doing this for my family. Out of loyalty. Do you even know what loyalty means?”
“Of course I—”
“You’re loyal to Damiano. If he told you something was important, that it was critical for you to do it, would you?”
I would. It’s my job to follow his orders. But I’d ask questions. I’d want an explanation.
And if he refused to give it?
Ice slips inside my veins. Did I criticize Gemma for doing the same thing I would?
She’s waiting for my answer, her fist still clenched against the granite counter.
I force it past my dry throat. “Yes.”
“That’s right,” she snaps. “You’d do anything for him. Well, I’m doing this for my family.” She drops her hand to her side and stares at me, unblinking. “You should thank God that your loyalty will never require you to sell your body to another. That Damiano will never ask you to let a stranger take you home and spend years pumping you full of his children.”
Acid floods my mouth. This is how it is for women born into this life, but for some reason, hearing Gemma say it shocks me.
It’s repulsive. The thought of her being forced into starting a family with someone she doesn’t want. Doesn’t love. Her body not belonging to her, not fully.
The scales were never balanced, but the unfairness of it all has never felt this stark.
“That’s what we’re ultimately here for, you know? To breed. In our world, my crowning achievement will be birthing the next generation of made men. That’s what I have waiting for me. So in my last few weeks of freedom, the last thing I need is you rubbing in my face just how pathetic you think I am.” Her voice breaks. “Let me enjoy my time here, damn it. You don’t need to rob the last few bits of happiness from me.”
My fists clench. I watch a single tear slip out of her eye, and it’s crushing.
I’m an asshole. A real fucking jerk.
I fight against the urge to cross the distance between us and embrace her. She doesn’t want my comfort. The least I can do is respect that.
She must see how thoroughly she’s flattened me. How she’s made me into mud at the bottom of her shoe.
If she was afraid of me before, she isn’t now. She walks around the island and points her finger at my chest.
“You may have fooled my sister, Ras, but you’ve never fooled me. I see you for who you are.”
“Who’s that?”
The tip of her finger presses against my shirt, right between my pecs. “A brute with no honor. You might be loyal to Damiano, but everyone else is fair game. You’re the kind of asshole who’d ruin someone’s life just for a bit of amusement.”
Nunzio’s voice flits through my head. “You think this is funny? Do you know how hard my parents worked for that?”
I shake the memory off.
She backs away. “You won’t touch me again. Do you understand?”
And then, before I can even think about how to answer, she whirls around and stalks out of the kitchen.
CHAPTER 7
GEMMA
When I wake up the next morning, I can still feel the rough press of Ras’s lips, the thrust of his tongue, and the weight of his hips against my own as he slammed me into that counter.
I was so mad just before he did it. So damn annoyed with all the probing questions he was asking that I couldn’t answer.
But something strange happened when he kissed me.
All of my fear and fury morphed into something else. It turned hot and decadent, sliding over my skin and settling between my legs for a brief moment before I came to my senses and kneed him where it hurt.
I pull the bedcover over my head and groan into a pillow.
There is a reasonable explanation.
That asshole is just the first guy to kiss me who actually knows what he’s doing.
I’ve only kissed two other people before. They were boys, not men. My age. Clueless and sweet. Our brief make-out sessions had been as exciting as waiting in line at the DMV.
No wonder what happened with Ras was more…jolting.
Open your eyes, you idiot. Time to snap back to reality.
I drag the bedcover down and immediately regret it.
It’s so, so bright.
After the fiasco in the kitchen, I all but ran back to dinner and decided to drown all my problems in wine.
Delicious, fruity Spanish wine. The waiter understood his job quickly and made sure my glass was never empty. With Mamma and Papà seated at a different table, no one paid enough attention to stop me.
Too bad no matter how good the wine is, your mouth still tastes like acid the next morning.
I sit up and cradle my pounding head in my palms.
Ras returned to the table sometime after me, but by that point, the dance floor had opened up, and I was out of there before his butt touched down in his seat.
Honestly, he should be glad I didn’t stick around. With all that alcohol sloshing inside of me, there was a lot more I could have said to him.
I hate him.
The man might be a decent kisser, but there’s something seriously wrong with him.
I don’t even want to imagine what would have happened if someone had walked in on us.
If my parents got word of me kissing another man? Kissing Ras?
I shudder. It wouldn’t even matter that he forced it on me. Papà wouldn’t wait for an explanation before he punished me. He’d probably take us all back home, tell Rafaele not to come here, hold this over Damiano’s head—
I dig the heels of my palms into my eye sockets. It would be so easy to spiral right now, but I won’t. I won’t let Ras ruin this week for me more than he already has.
Cleo’s still snoring across the room, but I force myself out of bed, eager to get that sour taste out of my mouth.
My hangover sends my thoughts down annoying little detours.
While I rinse my mouth and brush my teeth, I recall what Ras’s body felt like. Hard muscle everywhere. Radiating heat like a furnace. His abs may as well have been a stack of bricks. I think I hurt my hand more than I hurt him when I punched him. He barely even huffed in response.