Page 41 of Last Breath (Blood Wine Dynasty #2)

Nella

‘We’ve only been on a few dates.’

‘Huh?’

Daisy gripped Nella’s arm, concern twisting her delicate features.

‘Me and Jett. That’s why you’re annoyed with him, isn’t it?

Because you think he’s taking advantage of me?

Nel, he’s actually so kind and sweet and .

.. we’re not exclusive or anything, we’ve barely done anything .

.. I’m starting to think maybe he doesn’t even . ..’

‘We have to be silent now, Daisy.’ Nella pointed to the arched doorway at the top of the stone steps.

Daisy mimed zipping her lips, her cheeks turning the same pink as her hair.

Despite everything, Nella couldn’t help but stare up at the enormous walls at the entrance to the Walk of Silence.

The ferns and greenery creeping over the top, the Romanesque feel of the whole thing, the cobblestone streets and the arched windows made her feel like she’d fallen through time or into a medieval painting.

Forced silence suited her just fine. All she could hear besides their footsteps as they followed Roman (seriously, his name was Roman ) down the alley that looped around the tiny island was the gentle smack of waves against the rocks, the distant putt, putt of a motorboat and Jett’s goddamn breath down her neck, ruining everything.

She turned to glare at him. Do you have to walk so close? Shouldn’t you be walking up your girlfriend’s arse instead of mine?

He returned her glare, offering no insight into whether he’d understood.

She increased her pace. Unfortunately she’d worn her magenta Lululemon leggings, which encouraged her arse to be the best version of itself.

Not that he would notice or care, but still, with that kiss lingering between them, it was hard to focus knowing, as the path inclined, he would be eye-level with this ingenious sportswear design.

He’s dating Daisy. Your colleague. Your friend. He cancelled their date to drive you home. Because he promised your brother and mother he’d play the role of bodyguard so you don’t end up strung up on a ceiling fan in your office before this case goes to trial.

She argued with herself for the rest of the walk, ignoring the signs written in Italian, English and a bunch of other languages telling her to bask in the silence, set her thoughts free and that the walls are in your mind .

The walls were definitely not in her mind. The walls were a pink-haired, perfect girlfriend, a dysfunctional Italian dynasty, a dead university friend, a damaged childhood and a kiss that never should have happened.

If she was going to be Jett’s friend and show him that he should stay in Bindi Bindi, then Daisy was the perfect trump card to help her do that. So why was she fantasising about chopping off her colleague’s perfect pink ringlets and fly-kicking her over the Wall of Silence?

She was a hypocrite. The worst kind of friend. How many times had she thought about Clarkson since they got on the plane? She was the exact type of person she’d made her challenges to weed out of her own life. And now she was sprouting, out of control, in Jett’s.

She stood as far away from him as possible once they reached the wrought iron gates of the abbey. But it was redundant, because Roman was ushering Jett out of the way.

Women only , he mouthed, winking at Nella again.

He was what she needed – a hot Italian distraction.

Roman was probably five years younger than her and she had more facial hair than him (before her bimonthly waxing appointments, of course).

He’d already insinuated they could go on a boat ride across Lake Orta that evening and she’d been going to decline, but now, battling her poisonous thoughts and the feel of Jett’s breath lingering on her neck, why not accept?

The nuns were out in the front garden, snipping, pruning and plucking under the peachy glow of winter sunshine. Surely this cold, orange sphere casting frosty glimmers across the grass was not the same sun they’d left behind in Australia?

Nella nodded at Ariana, who was still a sort of greyish colour but had at least stopped throwing up for the duration of the walk. Maybe she really was pregnant. That would make getting Forrest’s DNA for Max a hell of a lot easier.

Nella placed her right palm between the bars of the cool metal gate, trying to ignore the sensation that the bars were going to clamp together and sever her arm at the wrist. She’d written ROSETTA with the thick lines of a Sharpie pen across her palm.

The nun closest to them, a young woman with a murderous set of pruning shears, squinted at Nella’s hand before giving a curt nod and resting the shears on the grass.

Nella felt Ariana’s shaky breath beside her. If they were not sworn enemies, she might have offered reassurance in the form of a squeezed hand. But nothing could undo hundreds of years of their families’ feud, so she did nothing as Ariana unbuttoned her cream blouse.

A nun was walking towards them. Rosetta, Nella presumed.

Taller than the one with pruning shears, and older.

Years of silent living seemed to be good for the skin at least; despite the fact that she was probably in her early fifties, she had very few wrinkles around her mouth (lack of muscle movement?) and eyes.

Rosetta stopped a foot before the gate, her expression neutral, brown eyes curious. She was only looking at Ariana.

Nella looked over at her too and tried not to yelp.

Ariana’s blouse was open, revealing a black lace bra. How had she never noticed before how incredible the younger woman’s boobs were? Oh, right. Mortal enemies. And the drab, bulky grandma clothes she always seemed to wear.

Ariana had dragged the lace down over one of those ridiculously perfect boobs, not in a sexy Victoria’s Secret way, but like she was showing a doctor a concerning mole. Under the lace was what looked like a Celtic tattoo but was actually a heart-shaped crest.

The La Marca Cuore.

The Heart of the La Marcas. People could say all they wanted about the Barbaranis, but at least they hadn’t descended to gang rituals like the La Marcas had, marking their family members and loyal servants with their cuore.

Straight over the heart. So they had a bullseye to aim their knife at if you betrayed them.

But that wasn’t what Rosetta was staring at, and Nella’s breath caught in her throat as she realised what it actually was that Ariana was showing Rosetta.

She had to look away from the red and purple lines cutting through Ariana’s flesh.

Tiny little lines, like marks on a cell, counting the days of isolation across her stomach.

Nella didn’t know what had caused those scars.

She didn’t want to know. Especially if it was Ariana.

Something passed between Rosetta and Ariana. Something intangible and strange, like a cold breeze over a desert plain. Understanding. Rosetta tilted her head and Ariana nodded slowly, a tear rolling down her cheek. Everyone on their side of the gate held a collective breath.

But as quickly as she’d arrived, Rosetta turned and walked away towards the abbey.

The instinct to scream in rage billowed inside Nella. Silence was bullshit. She grabbed Ariana by the arm as she tried to do up her buttons with shaking hands, making her look up. Ariana shook her head: I’m sorry.

Nella’s insides screamed as Clarkson’s face beamed across the sky of her mind – a sun slowly setting.

No. No . This couldn’t be the end. She needed that key.

They had to get into the La Marca house.

It was going to lead her to what had happened to Clarkson, she knew it.

He hadn’t killed himself, he just hadn’t .

Just as she looked up to gauge exactly how far she’d fall if she tried to climb the abbey gate, a movement brought her gaze back to eye level. Nella and Ariana exchanged a look. Dangerously close to one shared between two people who were on the same side and could understand each other via a look.

Rosetta was back. Her left hand was clenched into a fist, which she held out to Ariana – it looked absurdly like she wanted them to fist-bump.

Ariana, blouse still half open, tears drying on her cheeks, held out a shaky hand, palm up, and Rosetta dropped a large bronze key on a plastic keyring into it.

Something far in the back of Nella’s mind dropped. Not quite disappointment. Something sharper, warier. Something that hadn’t wanted Rosetta to return, that had wanted to scale the fence. Because now it almost seemed too easy.

The keyring had an address, encased in a clear plastic shell. Roman looked at it for a total of five seconds before he led them back around the cobblestoned Walk of Silence, squeezing their way past tourists to a private residence with custard yellow walls.

Nella desperately wanted to ask Ariana what silent conversation had passed between her and Rosetta. She’d heard Ariana telling Jett on the boat that Rosetta was her aunt, so deep down, underneath her thick layers of religious garments, Rosetta likely bore a tattoo identical to Ariana’s.

She’d handed over the key without asking anything, as though she’d been waiting for them.

Expecting them. But that was impossible, wasn’t it?

Unless Clarkson had made contact with the abbey before he died – and not written it down in his notes.

But that would have been billable hours, and it wasn’t like he was investigating for Nella’s family pro bono.

Or maybe Rosetta had another reason to be expecting Ariana.

Whatever it was, Nella hoped the answer would be in this yellow house.

Ariana handed Roman the key, and as they heard the lock click, someone screamed from behind them.

‘NO!’

SLAM.

Cold, hard bricks. No air. Leather, pepper, sweat.

Nella dragged in a breath as her spine connected with the hard stone of the yellow house.

Her front was encased by someone’s chest, pinning her to the alley wall.

Jett.

‘What are you ...?’ But she couldn’t speak; she was winded, disorientated, breathless.

They were too close. His chest rose and fell against hers like a wild tide against a rock, his arms bracketing her, palms and forearms pressed against the wall.

Protective.

Dominating.

She hated that word, but she didn’t hate the feeling.

His scent engulfed her – he’d showered and changed on the plane, and she could taste the hibiscus shampoo and shaving cream like it was on her tongue, sunscreen he’d applied because Daisy made him and his normal, leathery, manly Jett smell.

She inhaled, remembering the last time they’d been this close, his lips whispering in her ear.

The lie she’d punctured the moment with.

How much would break if she whispered the truth now?

I was turned on.

I was burning.

Every movement she’d made on this trip so far to try to stay away from him, out of his line of sight, had all shattered as their breath became one and Nella tilted her chin ...

‘It’s okay!’ Daisy’s pink curls bobbed around the corner of the house.

Nella and Jett sprang apart. ‘Just a kid running too close to the edge!’ Her smile faltered slightly as she took in Jett’s heavy breathing and what was probably a guilty, flushed look on Nella’s face.

‘You really take this role of bodyguard seriously, don’t you?

’ Daisy teased, smiling up at Jett. ‘Always playing the hero.’

Was that a jab at the fact that he’d cancelled their date to pick Nella up? Did Daisy know that was why he’d left?

Ariana and Roman had entered the house, and Daisy went in the open door, leaving Nella and Jett outside. Alone. ‘What the hell?’ Nella hissed at Jett. The silence had clearly been shattered beyond repair at the scream.

He looked down at the water’s edge, where a teary blond boy was being reprimanded by a woman.

‘Someone screamed ... I thought we were in danger. I overreacted. Sorry.’ He didn’t meet her eyes.

‘It was a nuclear-level overreaction.’

‘I know. ’ His voice was strained. ‘I know.’

‘What’s going on?’ She folded her arms. ‘You’ve been acting weird ever since Avery dropped you at the hangar. A detail that you haven’t actually explained, by the way. Is this just about ...’

Every unmentioned thing about Saturday night pulsed between them.

‘It’s not.’ The condescension in his tone made her shrink like a scolded schoolgirl. ‘I’m just not taking any chances with your safety.’

‘Right. Well, thank you, you saved me from a loud noise. I’m sure the Governor General’s already organising the ceremony to award you a medal of bravery. And don’t give me the knight in shining armour bullshit. You get paid to look out for me.’

‘Yeah, Nella, I didn’t grow up with a billionaire father, so I need to work.’ He pinched the bridge of his nose, which he was doing a hell of a lot more of these days.

Work.

‘I know you hate it, but instinct is all I have to go off because I don’t make all my decisions about people based off a 2007 Cosmo article about relationships. There are other things going on that you don’t know about.’

‘Like the fact you’re dating my paralegal?’

‘You’re really going to do this here?’

‘The fact that you and Avery are now best buds?’

‘Okay, so we’re doing this.’

They stared at each other for a moment that was only punctured by Daisy and Ariana’s giddy laughter from inside the house at something Roman had said.

‘What is it with that guy?’ Jett said. ‘Does his dick drip wine?’

‘Don’t worry, I don’t think he’s after Daisy. I mean, unless he’s also asked her for a moonlight boat ride this evening ...’

‘You’re serious? He’s already asked you out?

’ Whatever irritation had been simmering under Jett’s skin before, it was boiling through now.

But Nella had no idea what to make of that.

‘A boat ride ? What, like, on one of those dinghy things we passed at the docks that smells like fish guts? I thought European men were supposed to be romantic. Does he really expect you to develop an insatiable infatuation with him after a boat ride ?’

‘Because you’re the expert on making women develop insatiable infatuations?’

‘Please.’ He mimicked her posture, arms clenched, eyes serious, but his mouth was tilted up wickedly. ‘I don’t need a fucking boat or the moonlight . All it would take is five minutes in the backseat of my car.’

The pause was excruciatingly long. Nella had no idea what to say. She always knew what to say. But there was no witty, sarcastic quip tingling on her tongue.

Because it’s probably true.

If the kiss in the office was anything to go by ...

What was wrong with her?

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean ...’

‘I know.’

The air thinned, oxygen filtered in and the tension was gone again. She opened her mouth but was cut off by a voice from inside the house. Daisy.

‘Nella, you need to come and look at this.’

And she knew, before she saw, that something was very, very wrong.