“Can you stop interrupting me and just listen? Let me handle Damiano. If you just tell me what you want, I can help you.”
Vale doesn’t get it. She doesn’t know what’s at stake.
Calling off the engagement would throw everyone under the bus. If the alliance between Papà and Rafaele falls apart, the Garzolos will become a target.
For all I know, Rafaele might decide to destroy us himself.
No, there is no way out of this.
“What I want is to marry him. It will be good for the family.”
A shadow passes over Vale’s expression. “My marriage was good for the family too. At least that’s what Papà said. Look how that turned out.”
“That was different,” I say. “Speaking of family, they miss you, you know. Nona wanted to be here, but the flight would have been too difficult for her. And our aunts ask about you every time I see them. You should call them.”
My suggestion is innocent, but I can see she’s taken aback. She crosses her arms over her chest and looks toward the window. “I wouldn’t know what to say.”
“It doesn’t matter. They just want to hear your voice.”
She shakes her head, her gaze fixed on the glittering sea outside.
“Are you angry with them?” I venture.
“I was in the beginning.” She stands, walks toward the window, and pushes the sheer curtain aside. “But not anymore. Now, I don’t know what I feel.”
“They had no idea what Lazaro was making you do. None of us did.”
Vale links her palms behind her back. “Unfortunately, emotions are rarely logical. But like I said, I’m not angry at them. If anything, I’m ashamed.”
I get up and move toward her. “Why?”
“I should have called a long time ago to offer my condolences after what happened with the Riccis, but I just couldn’t do it. The questions they’d ask about me and Lazaro… I didn’t want to have those conversations. I still don’t. It’s selfish of me to want a clean break from my life in New York, but that’s what I want.”
Something cracks inside my chest.
I get it. I do.
But I’m part of that old life.
Does she want a clean break from me too?
My fingertips brush against her shoulder. She looks at me. “I wish Papà would call off your engagement and let you and Cleo move in with me.”
There’s a flash of hope, like a single match being lit inside a dark room.
And then it’s gone.
“You know he’d never let that happen.”
Vale’s smile is sad. “I know. I just don’t want what happened to me to happen to either of you. I don’t think I could live with myself if it did.”
“It won’t.” I clasp her hands. “Look, I appreciate you trying to help, but you don’t need to worry about me. I’ve always known I’d marry someone of Papà’s choosing. I’m ready for this. My concerns are nothing I won’t be able to work out once I’m back home. Now, I didn’t come to your wedding to spend the entire time talking about mine. Let’s talk about this week, please.”
The line of her shoulders softens, but there’s a look in her eyes that tells me this won’t be the last conversation we have on this subject. “All right, let’s talk about this week.”
She walks me through the schedule. It’s packed. A family-only cocktail reception tomorrow night, then Martina and Giorgio’s wedding the next day. Two days later, it’s Vale and Dem’s turn. The more Vale talks, the more excited she gets. There’s a glow about her that’s new. She didn’t glow like this back when she lived with us in New York.
“You seem happy,” I tell her when she finishes describing all the events.
She glances at her hand, the one that’s sporting a massive engagement ring and the wedding band from her elopement. “I am. I know we’re already married, but it still feels special to do it with all these people as witnesses. Even Vince is coming. I haven’t seen him in years.”
Our older brother Vince has lived in Switzerland for nearly five years. He rarely comes to New York, and when he does, he doesn’t stay long.
I smile. “It will be good to see him. How many guests are coming?”
“For Mari and Giorgio, there will be around one hundred people in attendance. For ours, there will be a few more.”
Including my fiancé and his consigliere. They’re coming the day before Vale’s wedding.
“Do you need any help with anything?”
“Not really. The planner’s on top of it. But you need to try on your dress to make sure it fits. It’s in my room back at the main house.” She stands up and offers me a hand. “Let’s do it now before we forget. The tailor needs time to make adjustments.”
I follow her out of the bedroom and down the stairs. When we pass by the kitchen, a tempting smell makes my steps slow.
“God, that’s heavenly. Did someone make bread?”
Vale sniffs. “Smells like it.”
I drop her hand and take a few steps to peer through the arched entryway.
On the counter is a basket filled with those delicious-looking buns Mamma wouldn’t let me eat.
“You coming?” Vale calls out.
“Yeah.” After a moment’s hesitation, I snatch one, break off a piece, and shove it in my mouth.
It’s still warm. It’s so damn good I barely feel any guilt over breaking my pre-wedding diet. Whichever staff member decided to drop these off is officially my favorite person.
We leave the guest house and make our way over to the main villa. The air is warm and humid, and the slight breeze carries the scent of the waves that crash over the big rocks at the edge of the property. The heat penetrates my skin. My hip still aches from when I fell, but I do my best not to show it.
As we walk along the stone path between the houses, I spy a few red hummingbirds buzzing close to the branches of a nearby tree. One of them spots a flower and dips its long beak inside.
It’s lovely here. I wish we could stay for longer than a week.
I’m about to voice that thought as we step through the side door that leads directly into the living room, but my words dry up when I see the man spread out on the couch.
Ras. He’s horizontal, one tanned arm folded beneath his head, the other holding his phone. He’s typing something, a slight line between his brows.
My gaze skates over his flexed biceps. He was wearing a dress shirt at lunch, but he’s changed into a fitted black T-shirt with a small logo stitched in the corner.
“I thought you were going to Revolvr?” Vale asks. Revolvr is one of Damiano’s clubs on the island.
Ras looks up, his gaze immediately locking on me. “Yeah, I’m about to go. Just had to take care of some things. What are you two doing?”
“Gemma needs to try on her dress to see if it fits.”
He sits up, still staring at me. “If you want my opinion, I’m available.” A smirk plays on his lips, but there’s something darker than usual behind it. A challenge. Like he’s waiting for me to figure something out.
I look away.
Whatever it is, I don’t care.
And he can shove his opinions up his ass. I’ve got enough of those to deal with as is. “I think we’ll survive,” I retort, keeping my gaze away from him as I move toward the stairs.