Familiarity breeds boredom, right?
I pull the door open and step inside.
Cleo is perched on a black velvet sofa, her back angled to me. Beside her is Sabina, but I barely notice the house manager.
My fiancée turns and when our gazes clash, a current sparks through me.
Her expression is carefully guarded, her spine is welded straight, and her hands are folded primly in her lap. This is the most demure I’ve ever seen her.
I slide my hands into the pockets of my trousers. “Good evening.”
That’s when the demure illusion breaks. Anger flashes inside her gaze, and then she’s on her feet, stomping across the room until she’s standing right in front of me.
Amusement crackles through me at the fierce expression on her face.
Yes, this is the Cleo I recognize.
“What happened to my sister?” she demands.
Her scent fills my nose. No perfume, just clean skin, and a hint of floral shampoo.
My pulse picks up speed. Her hair is all pulled back in a bun and my hands itch to loosen it. I want to bury my nose in that magnificent copper hair and wrap it tight around my fist.
Why the fuck did Sabina hide it all away?
The old woman rushes to Cleo’s side. “Don Messero, I apologize—”
“Leave us.”
Cleo holds my gaze as the house manager scurries out of the room.
“I asked you where my sister is,” she says in a low, hostile tone. “I need to know if she’s okay.”
I should have known that would be the first question out of her mouth. After all, she’s doing all of this for her sister’s sake.
“I don’t know. She is none of my concern anymore.”
Her nostrils flare like she’s unhappy with my response, but it’s the truth. I made sure Gemma was allowed to leave without any interference from her father, but that’s where my goodwill ended.
“Can’t you find out? I’m going crazy with worry. It’s been days since she left, and I’ve gotten no news.”
“You’ll get news tomorrow at the wedding.”
Hope flashes in her green eyes. “Will Gem be there tomorrow?”
“She’s not invited.” I am not so charitable as to let the woman responsible for our broken engagement attend my wedding.
“My other sister?”
“If Valentina and De Rossi decide to show up, they will be welcomed. Your mother and brother will be there. Your father will walk you down the aisle.”
Red spreads over her cheeks, and she takes a small step back. “No. I’ll walk on my own.”
“It’s customary to be given away by a male relative.” If I ignore another of my family’s traditions, someone is going to suffer an aneurysm.
“Then I’ll walk with Vince. I don’t want anything to do with my father.”
I study her. She said Garzolo never lifted a hand to her, but she could have been lying. If her father hit her like he hit her sister…
A sudden wave of anger makes me clench my fists.
“Are you afraid of him?” I ask.
She scoffs. “He would like that, but no. I just don’t want to walk with him.”
It’s a simple enough request, and I don’t care about Garzolo’s stance on the matter, so I nod. “I’ll talk to your brother.”
The dress she’s wearing is modest enough, but it stretches tightly over her tits, drawing my attention to them. There’s a dusting of freckles over her skin. The fact that I’ll get to unwrap her like a present in twenty-four hours and see how far those freckles go sends a jolt to my groin.
“How long will this dinner take?” she asks.
Reluctantly, I drag my gaze back up to her face. “As long as necessary.”
I can tell she’s trying to keep herself from mouthing off to me, which is a first. Given what I know of her, she’s being surprisingly cordial. What will happen once she’s sure Gemma is safe?
“I hope I don’t need to remind you that you’ve signed up for this willingly.”
Her eyes narrow. “Don’t worry. Tomorrow, I’ll walk down the aisle, say I do, and let you put a ring on my finger. I know if I don’t, you and Papà will do everything in your power to hurt Gemma to get back at me.”
I have no intention of harming her pregnant sister, but I don’t correct her. After all, I want this wedding to go smoothly.
“I’m confident you’ll quickly adjust to your life here.”
She gives me a blank stare. “Right. Because I’m generally so well-adjusted.”