Page 22 of Where Quiet Hearts Scream (Dark Hearts #3)

S erafina

Another knock sounds at my bedroom door.

“Sera, are you ready yet? At this rate there’ll be no evening left to celebrate your last night as a single woman!

” Trilby’s impatience overshadows the sympathy she’s been showing me this last month.

As Maid of Honor, she’s taken on the task of hosting a bachelorette party for me and I’ve made it abundantly clear I don’t want to go.

But, I know it’s not really an option, and she’s gone to so much trouble to arrange a lovely dinner for us all, that I can’t hide away for much longer.

“I’ll be right out!” I clean up the blade I just used to release my latest demons and apply a new dressing to my inner thigh. I’d hoped I could go at least one night without cutting myself before the wedding, but since I succumbed to it right after Andreas’ visit, I haven’t been able to stop.

Like a drug addiction, all it took was one lapse and now I’m hooked all over again. All I’ve been able to think about is getting alone so I can cut myself and release the volcanic tension that keeps mounting and mounting.

I have a lot of demons to release. I feel helpless because I have no control over what’s happening in my life.

I feel a deep despair at knowing I’m going to be taken far away from my sisters to live with a man whose only formidable talent, it seems, is lying to my face.

I feel weighed down with grief at the knowledge Mama would be turning in her grave.

The last thing she wanted for any of us was to be forced into marrying mob men.

She’d be livid at Papa for letting this happen.

And I miss her so much I feel a constant pain in my heart.

With the blade concealed in my kit, I lift the framed portrait of my mother from where it lies face-down on my desk. I can’t let her see what I do to myself.

I pack my kit into the upper drawer of my desk and lock it, then I stash the key in my purse.

Allegra has arranged to have my desk and some other belongings packed up to be shipped to the Winchester house.

It will be a convenient way of getting my kit there without having it on my person.

Now that I’ve experienced first-hand how happy Andreas is to violate my personal boundaries by having me eat what he wants me to eat, against my wishes, I wouldn’t be shocked if he personally checked through all my belongings too .

I shake my hair down my back, momentarily dislodging the unease that rests permanently on my shoulders. Then, letting the hem of my long summer dress fall to the floor, I unlock my bedroom door and follow the sound of voices to the garden.

There’s a small, exuberant cheer when I step through the doors.

Allegra and my sisters greet me with wide smiles and claps, and Trilby busies herself immediately by uncovering the plates of food that look to have been standing out here for a couple of hours.

I feel Bambi’s small hand slip into mine.

She’s almost seventeen now, but her hand still feels like it belongs to the small girl I guided through early adolescence after Mama was killed.

I glance sideways and she gives me a slightly guilty smile—even my little sister feels bad about my situation. We haven’t spoken a lot since I returned home because I’ve locked myself in my room for most of the time, only coming out when I’ve been given strict orders to force down food.

I’ve spoken with Trilby in short bursts, but for the most part she’s been at the Di Santo residence. I’ve spoken a similarly small amount to Tess. She’s tried a little harder to get me to open up but I made a decision to not let anyone in. No one else needs to feel my pain.

Allegra passes me a plate, her eyebrows raised.

“Has this food been approved by His Majesty?” I ask.

She brightens instantly. “Actually no. Your fiancé has given us permission to serve whatever we want this evening.”

“Including Twinkies,” Tess says, stuffing one into her mouth.

Sometimes I wish I could be like her—able to eat whatever I want and not put on any weight. Unfortunately though, I only have to look at a Twinkie and my thighs fill out. Then again, I suppose if I danced for several hours a day, I’d be able to eat whatever I wanted too.

Allegra shoots me a wink. “I got you some peanut butter popcorn. Your favourite.”

My jaw drops in mock horror. “But Allegra, however am I going to look my fiancé in the eye knowing I’ve succumbed to such treachery?”

Trilby slides a flute of champagne into my hand. “Drink enough of this and you won’t remember.”

I raise the glass to my lips with a dramatic sigh. “You are all terrible influences.”

“That’s why you love us,” Trilby says, clinking her glass against mine.

The sunset casts gentle shadows across the lawn, which has been transformed into a glittering cocoon of fairy lights, Ella Fitzgerald and the deliciously forbidden scent of greasy snacks. No forced fiancés. No watchful eyes. Just me, my sisters and Allegra.

Tess glances at me from her spot on one of the floor cushions and licks sugar off her fingers. “Do you think His Royal Highness eats peanut butter popcorn in secret? Maybe he’s got a stash hidden in his gun case or the closet of suits he reserves for dinners with government officials.”

I force a laugh. “He probably doesn’t eat anything that hasn’t been scanned for allergens, toxins, or bad PR.”

Trilby giggles but a tension follows it as they remember what my future role has been laid out to be.

I won’t be a hospitality manager, with my own life, my own independence, like everyone had expected—me included.

Instead, I’m going to be the arm candy of a crime lord, an accomplice in his underhand seduction of high society players and politicians.

My quip about bad PR might have been made in jest but there’s a disturbing truth to it.

I’m under no illusion that having me on his arm will reflect well on Andreas.

I’m a sibling of Cristiano Di Santo’s wife—one of the now-famous Castellano sisters.

That apparently propels Andreas into another league of influence, according to Tess.

He’s not only forcing me into a life I don’t want, but he’s using me for his own gain. And that makes me feel nauseous.

Even peanut butter popcorn is rapidly losing its allure.

I turn to Allegra. “Where is Papa this evening?”

Her skin pales a little. “Well, it’s a bachelorette party isn’t it? I banished him from the house.”

My eyes narrow. “That wasn’t the question.”

Each of my sisters turn their gaze to Allegra. We know where Papa is but we want Allegra to say it .

“Fine.” She heaves out a heavy sigh. “He’s with Antonia.”

“Cristiano’s aunt…” Tess confirms.

Allegra shrugs. “Yes. I believe your father has taken her to dinner.”

“MacDonalds I hope,” Bambi mutters, earning herself a Trilby-shaped elbow in the ribs.

“I think it’s nice he’s dating someone.” Everyone spins to face me in surprise. Out of all of us, a liberal attitude toward Papa’s love life was least expected of me, what with my current predicament and all. “At least he gets a choice—it’s good he’s exercising that.”

Trilby frowns. “You’re okay with it?”

I rub my temples which are tight with tension, despite the champagne. “There are bigger things right now for me to not be okay with. I suppose I’m not sweating the small stuff. I mean, he’s just having fun—it’s nothing serious.”

My gaze flicks briefly to Allegra, just enough to see her cheeks pale further still. When she catches me looking in her direction, she jumps up from her chair. “I need more bubbles. And we have some cold meats in the refrigerator too. I’ll be right back.”

“So, Sera,” Tess begins as I watch Allegra return to the house, “what have your tarot cards being saying the last few days?”

My sisters look back at me expectantly and I give my head a short shake. “I haven’t done them in a while.”

“What?” they chorus .

“But you used to do them every day,” Trilby says, stunned.

“I don’t really feel like there’s any point. My future has been decided for me.”

“But, you always said the tarot wasn’t about fortune-telling—it was about helping you reflect on situations and see them from different angles.”

I shrug because I don’t want to tell them the truth. I have been reading my tarot—every day. And every day it’s been telling me the same thing. I keep dealing the same cards. Three of Swords, Eight of Cups and Five of Pentacles.

The Swords card was the first I drew when I was finally alone after Trilby and Cristiano’s wedding. It indicates heartbreak and betrayal. I couldn’t have drawn a more fitting card for then, for now, for the future.

The Eight of Cups points to the possibility of someone walking away. That person won’t be me because I’ll be holed up in a prison of my marriage’s making—I won’t be going anywhere. But Andreas… if there are any emotions there to speak of—which I doubt—he will withdraw them completely.

And finally, the Five of Pentacles. This card is well-known for depicting isolation, but, let’s face it, I’m going to be alone in Massachusetts without a soul to speak to. That isn’t a surprise. But the Five of Pentacles goes deeper than that. Deeper than anyone around me would dare to imagine.

It suggests total abandonment.

Bambi tugs on my arm. “I’d still like you to do mine for me. Maybe after the wedding? I could come visit you.”

I squeeze her hand. “I would love that.”

While Tess and Trilby take the opportunity to grill Allegra on Papa’s burgeoning relationship with Antonia Di Santo, Bambi leans in to whisper in my ear.

“For what it’s worth, I think all of this is awful. Just horrible. I hate to see you going through this.”

I pull back a little and lie through a smile. “I’m going to be fine, Bambi, don’t you worry. You just focus on school and getting good grades so that one day, you can stand on your own two feet without our family’s help.”

Her face contorts into something heart-breaking. “I’m scared, Sera.”

I grip her hand tightly. “What? What are you scared of?”

Her bottom lip shivers. “I’m afraid that with you and Tess and Trilby all married—or as good as married—to Cristiano’s men, I’m going to be next.”

I shake my head in an weak attempt to reassure her that such a thing won’t happen, but I didn’t think this would happen to me, so I know I’m not convincing.

Her voice trembles. “I don’t want to get married. And even if I did, no one would want me. Papa will be so disappointed.”

“Bambi stop.” I place a hand on her shoulder. “No one is setting you up for marriage. You’re too young, and even when you’re older, it won’t happen. I won’t let it. Do you hear me? I won’t let them do to you what they’re doing to me.”

“But Trilby and Tess…” she starts.

“They’re different. They fell in love with Cristiano and Benito.

No one forced Trilby into marriage, and I don’t see any pressure being put on Tess.

” I sigh, hoping I can convince her she has nothing to worry about.

“This arrangement I’m a part of… it’s all to help cement an alliance between Cristiano and Andreas. ”

Bambi still looks like a petrified rabbit in the glow of approaching headlamps.

“Cristiano wasn’t looking for an alliance when Andreas showed up. It’s possible this might be the last, at least for a while. Anyway, it isn’t good to keep thinking of what might happen. You’re nearly seventeen, you’re beautiful, you’re full of life. Enjoy who you are now.”

“But I feel so terrible for you, and this wedding tomorrow…”

I pull her into a hug. “I’m okay, Bambi, you don’t need to worry about it.” The foreboding cards I keep drawing flash across my lids and I swallow. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”

I hold it together through the few hours of my bachelorette party and even manage to enjoy it a little. But Allegra ushers me to bed before I can get too tipsy, and promises to wake me bright and early so the preparations can begin.

It was my decision to get ready at our home on Long Island before driving to Manhattan for the ceremony.

The day after the wedding, I will be accompanying Andreas to New England and stepping into my new life straight away.

I’m staying here one more night because want to hold on to my present life for as long as I can.

When I’m alone in my room, my gaze drifts instinctively to my desk. I thought I’d gotten relief from the constant build-up of tension before I went downstairs, but the yearning inside me grows the second I entertain the idea of one last time .

I wasn’t myself downstairs. I was playing a role—the role of the dutiful mafia wife-to-be.

There’s nothing anyone can do about my predicament and I could see the toll my situation is having on my sisters and Allegra, so I behave as though I’ve accepted it.

I’m not being authentic, and I loathe myself for it. But, there’s nothing else I can do.

I can’t run away—if the Di Santo’s didn’t find me, someone else would, and there’d be a price on my head.

I can’t fight it either because too many people want this alliance.

As a Castellano, I have to be a team player.

This is how our family is now. All I can do is hope that Andreas will at least be civil with me in my new home, and that when he wants an heir, he’s gentle and brief.

My stomach rolls, my fists clench and I reach for the key.

I open up my kit and remove the dressing on my thigh.

The blood along the cut has dried. I know just how deep and long to go to keep the bleeding to a minimum.

I don’t want my dressings to be visible beneath my clothes.

The first prick drags a long sigh from my lungs then the ensuing pain makes me grit my teeth.

I don’t look; I just cut. I just feel my flesh opening up, the blood running down my thigh.

For a moment, all my worries disappear, and all I focus on is the pain radiating across my leg.

It’s a relief to not have my head full of questions and fears.

When the pain subsides, I open my eyes and lower my chin.

The first thing I see is bright white taffeta hanging on my closet door.

The skirt looks like a fine cotton cloud and the bodice sparkles with silvery crystals.

But the picture isn’t perfect.

Because in my periphery is a river of red.