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.”
The wineglass in my hand shakes.
I put it on the table and press my spine into the leather seat. I don’t want to believe him. My brother wouldn’t do that to me.
My brother wouldn’t use me like that.
But then I remember the things he said in Ibiza, and I suddenly see them in a different light.
“I could never live with Papà breathing down my neck.”
“He’s lucky to have you, Gem. Very lucky. He raised three selfish kids, and one selfless daughter.”
“I’m not going to convince you of anything. I don’t agree with Vale. You should marry Rafaele.”
Acid floods my mouth. Back then, I was touched that Vince had looked into Rafaele on my behalf. I thought he was watching out for me. Instead, he’d probably done all that research to make sure his masterplan wouldn’t fail. This is why he’s been ignoring my calls. He’s probably scared of what I have to say.
“Gemma.”
I blink. Rafaele looks at me and then glances down at the emerald ring on my hand. “I can’t give you love. But I can give you respect and honesty. And I can promise that I’ll treat your family the way I treat my own.”
I nod numbly.
There is no way out of this marriage. Not when Papà, Vince, and Rafaele are all working together. There’s nothing I can do. Nothing anyone can do.
My fate is sealed.
Nero interrupts us. “Rafe, you’ve got a call. I think you should take it.”
Rafaele takes the phone from Nero. “Excuse me.” He walks away with his consigliere, and the two of them disappear behind a hidden door off to the side.
Ras is beside me as soon as they’re gone, his thigh bumping against mine. “Are you all right?”
I swallow. My throat is bone dry. “No.”
“What’s going on?”
“Papà didn’t lie to me about Vince.” It takes effort to get the words out of my mouth. “He really is giving up his position. He doesn’t want to be don. He wants it to be Rafaele.”
Despair wraps around me. I’ve always tried to do the right thing, so what did I do to deserve this? A father who lies to me and hits me. A brother who manipulates me and uses me for his own gain. They’ve laid an elaborate trap and forced me into a corner. There’s no way out.
Ras is saying something, but a movement across the dance floor catches my attention. I jump to my feet. “Is that Ludovico?” My eyes widen when the crowd parts. “Oh God, he’s all over Cleo.”
Ras stands, his eyes narrowing on the scene playing out on the other side of the VIP area. Ludovico is tugging Cleo into him, trying to grind up on her from behind while my sister tries to shove him away. She breaks his hold, whirls around, and shouts something right into his face.
My stomach drops. He’s drunk, and I think Cleo’s in trouble.
“We have to go,” I say urgently. “We need to get him away from her.”
Ras and I try to squeeze through the crowd, but it’s packed, and we’re moving so slowly, I start panicking.
“What do we do?” I shout over the music.
Ras moves ahead of me, parting the crowd by shoving people aside. I suspect he’s growling at everyone to get out of his way, and no one’s idiotic enough to not listen.
My pulse is loud inside my ears by the time we finally emerge from the crowd, but Cleo and Ludovico aren’t in the spot I saw them before.
“Where are they?”
Ras points. “There.”
Cleo’s standing on a small round balcony that overlooks the dance floor below. Her back is pressed against the rail, and her expression is a grimace. She’s angry, but I know her well enough to detect a hint of fear.
Ludovico is crowding her. His hands are on her waist and sliding lower. Cleo yells something and digs her high heel into his foot. He staggers backward, the music swallowing up his shout. Before Cleo has a chance to dart away, he lunges at her, fist raised.
Fear seizes me. He’s out of control. What if he knocks her over the balcony? “Cleo!”
Ludovico’s fist never makes contact with my sister.
Someone catches his arm from behind.
It’s Rafaele.
For the first time since I’ve met him, there’s no mistaking the raw emotion on his face.
Cold, merciless fury.
The crowd quiets, even as music keeps blasting through the club. Everyone is waiting with bated breath to see what Rafaele will do. Everyone but Ludovico, who’s still snarling insults at Cleo like a rabid dog.
Rafaele says something I’m too far away to make out, and the effect on Ludovico is immediate. He freezes in place and slowly turns. When he sees who grabbed him, his mouth abruptly slams shut.
Whatever Ludovico sees in my fiancé’s eyes makes him visibly cower. He’s halfway through uttering what I presume is an apology when it happens.
Something glints in the darkness of the club. A knife in Rafaele’s hand.
He jerks Ludovico away from Cleo with such force I think he may dislocate Ludovico’s shoulder, and then he lifts his other hand and slashes the knife down.
This time, even the music isn’t loud enough to mask Ludovico’s shriek.
No one in the VIP area moves.
Rafaele drops Ludovico on the ground like he’s a bag of trash and takes a step backward.
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.