Page 34

C ontessa

A knock at the door makes my lids pop open. “Who is it?”

“It’s me.” Bambi .

I push myself up to my elbows and try to ignore the crap scattered all over my bedroom floor. “Come in.”

The door opens and her brows shoot up. “You’re not packed yet?”

“We’re not leaving for a couple of hours,” I say with a sigh.

Her eyes are wide as they roam the dumping ground that is the floor. “I fear you might need longer than that. Do you want some help?”

I lay back down with a thump and close my eyes. How has it come to this? My little sister offering to help me get my act together for a stay in a luxury hotel in the Hamptons? I should have been ready hours ago but all I’ve managed to do is shower.

I know what’s putting me off—it’s the thought of seeing Bernadi when I get there. Unfortunately, it’s inevitable—he’s Cristiano’s best man.

Shame floods through my ribcage at the thought I’ve worked hard every day to banish, though it still creeps back beneath my skin when I drop my guard.

I haven’t told a soul about the day in the nightclub basement, because I’m so ashamed at how I feel about it. Despite the terror his cold gaze and sharp tone provoked in me, I knew deep down he wouldn’t truly hurt me. But the most shameful thing about it was, Benito was right. I liked it. I liked being tied up and at his mercy. I liked him ‘punishing’ me with his tongue. I loved his dirty words and the way insanity seemed to infuse his conviction and blind him to everything but my body, my pleas. The only truth either of us were able to confront in that deep dark room was the undeniable chemistry that crackled and combusted beneath every touch.

The sound of his murmurs still fills my ears, the vibration of his anger as his fingers coasted up my skin still touches my nerves. My helplessness as I trembled beneath them still empties my lungs.

Even as I lie here on my bed, delaying the inevitable, I’m short of breath.

Then the sound of a suitcase being slid out of the closet makes me jump. “Do you know when Trilby’s getting there?” Bambi asks .

My throat is dry and scratchy when I swallow. “No idea. I haven’t seen her in a while.” Three weeks to be exact.

“Aren’t you guys pretty close now? At one point I thought you’d actually moved into the Di Santo residence.” I hear a zipper and the suitcase cover hits my leg.

I huff out a sigh and sit up. There’s no getting away from it. I have to pack. “Yeah, I guess. I’ve just been busy.”

“When’s the recital? It’s got to be soon. Feels like you’ve been rehearsing for years.”

Just the thought of my upcoming show fills me with the kind of dread that stops someone eating for several days. And that’s without the underlying anxiety I’m experiencing because my dancing has taken a total nosedive since Benito had me tied up in the basement of his club. “A week after the wedding.”

“So this should be the perfect distraction,” Bambi says, with a happy lilt.

I reply with a faint smile that fades the second she looks away.

Since I fled Arena three weeks ago, my life has become unrecognizably dull. I go to the studio. I don’t hang around. I come straight home. I eat. I stare at the ceiling. I sleep.

I haven’t looked out of the studio window once; I haven’t glanced up the stairs to the apartment above; I’ve avoided Cristiano’s house completely. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen anything of Bernadi. He’s there, on the back of my lids, when I go to sleep, when I dream at night, when I wake up, when I dance. His jet black hair, his scarred left cheek and those dark bronze eyes that glisten when I come undone. He’s there in all of it, making me warm and weak. Embodying the beautiful things he said to me while I curled around his body in the hotel bed.

But he’s nothing but an empty promise wrapped in a dark suit.

All it took was one unvalidated suggestion I might have corresponded with my old best friend and he jumped to the conclusion I was betraying him. He didn’t give me any benefit of the doubt—he immediately accused me of lying, and no declarations of truth would change his assumption. It wasn’t even me who got him to see sense—it was Cristiano.

The hurt in his eyes when I ran away tugs at my weakened bones, but I can’t return to a man who doesn’t trust me. And Benito doesn’t trust me as far as he can spit. And after the way he treated me, as though I was heartless betrayal personified, I don’t trust him —with my body, my mind, or my heart.

I wished I still hated him—things were much easier then—but in the last few weeks he’s molded me into someone I barely recognize. I was closer than I’ve ever been with my older sister; I was dancing better than I’d ever done before. I’d begun to feel more comfortable in my own skin—at ease with my wildness. And my darkness—or so I thought.

I’ve never felt more dark than I did when Benito had my wrists and ankles bound together as he slid his full length into me on the cold concrete floor. I loved it.

I hate that I loved it.

It scares me that I loved it.

“Are you even listening?”

I blink back to my youngest sister who’s neatly folding clothes and placing them in my suitcase.

“Sorry,” I mutter. “Thinking about the recital. What were you saying?”

“Did you reply to Federico?”

The temperature in the room seems to drop at the mention of his name.

“No. I’m not sure I will.”

Bambi folds a short black bandage dress over her arm and scrunches her nose. “I thought he was your best friend?”

“Three years ago,” I say, lying back down on the bed and covering my eyes with the palms of both hands. “Not anymore. This was the first I’d heard from him in all that time. He could’ve been dead for all I knew.”

“What did he say in his letter? Is he coming back?”

I slide my palms down my face and stare at the stark white ceiling. “I don’t know.”

He said in his letter he was returning to New York, but he didn’t say when, how, who with. And remembering what I can of my old friend, what Federico said and what Federico did were often two very different things.

Bambi’s voice dips. “Would you like him to come back? ”

I swallow, my gaze still glued to the shards of light stretched above my head. Truly, I don’t know what I want. I want for Federico never to have written the letter; I want for Benito to never have doubted me so quickly. I want to turn back time so I can forget the heat of his lips on my throat, the scorching trail of fire his fingertips left on my thighs.

But I also want to know Federico is okay, and that Benito sending his family away didn’t hurt them too badly.

I recall the bite in his words and know one thing for sure: The Falconis were hurt by Benito’s actions—enough that Fed seems determined to get his revenge. The only problem is, he still believes I want revenge too, but I don’t. I know Benito now, and I know in my bones he was telling the truth when he said he’d sent the family away for their own protection.

I worry for Federico if he does choose to return. If Benito can turn on me at the mere suggestion I was plotting against him, I’m frightened for what he’ll do to Federico knowing my old friend really is seeking revenge—it was written in his letter; it was there in black and white.

With that in mind, I reply with a fervent, “No. There is nothing he can gain from coming back here.”

“Not even your heart?” If Bambi’s own heart wasn’t so sweet, I might have snapped, but she knows nothing of my history with Federico, nor my past and present with Benito .

I lift my head and let out a soft sigh. “No, Bambi. That ship has sailed.”

An hour and significant effort on Bambi’s part later, I drop my suitcase into the trunk of the car and ignore Allegra’s scowl as I slide in behind her.

“Honestly,” she mutters. “You girls will be late for your own funerals.”

“I was on time!” Bambi shoots back. “Besides, not planning on dying any time soon.”

I look across to see her inspecting her newly painted nails. “Well, if you do, you can rest assured our aunt will get you to the burial on time.”

“Not if I go before you,” Allegra snaps.

“We’ve got an hour’s drive ahead of us,” Papa grumbles from the driver’s seat. “Can we pick a more optimistic topic?”

I chew the inside of my cheek and drift my gaze out of the window. The grey of the roads eventually gives way to expanses of green, trimmed lawns warming under a cloudless sky.

I feel like I’m on the edge of exhaling a long breath, emptying me of the tightness that has allowed me to function over the last three weeks. But the knowledge of what awaits me keeps the iron fist closed around my heart.

I want to feel everything for Trilby—this will be the happiest day of her life. But I can’t and won’t be vulnerable. I’ll watch the proceedings with a detached eye, I’ll hold a tissue to dry cheeks and I’ll make my apologies at the earliest opportunity. If I stay around just a second longer than I have to, I’ll risk being drawn back into darkness and that scares the life out of me.

For now, darkness recedes as the view ahead fills with bright white architectural splendor.

“Oh, it’s gorgeous,” Allegra says, fanning herself with a magazine.

“It’s even nicer than the pictures on the website,” Bambi adds.

I step out of the car and take a deep breath. My chest releases a little. Somehow, I know he isn’t here yet.

The wedding isn’t for another three days but we’ve arrived early to help Trilby with preparations, hold the most epic bachelorette party for her, and of course, spend some time with Sera, our second eldest sister.

A doorman hurries down the steps towards us and Papa tosses his keys to a valet. We unload the trunk and leave the suitcases with the doorman as we climb the steps to a picture-perfect country club-esque hotel.

“How did Sera land this gig?” Bambi asks in a voice full of wonder.

“I never asked,” I reply, “but I expect Cristiano had something to do with it.”

Just as we reach the doors, a flurry of dark auburn hair rushes toward us. I recognize Sera immediately and she barrels straight into me and Bambi for a hug.

“It’s so good to see you all,” she squeals. “I can’t wait to show you around. Trilby and Cristiano got here an hour ago…”

My chest tightens again. “Where are they?”

“They were in the lounge last time I looked but they might be in their cottage unpacking.”

“Cottage?” My eyes pop.

Sera beams proudly. “Yeah, we have four cottages on the grounds as well as all the suites in the main house. It’s perfect for their wedding night.”

Bambi’s nose scrunches. “Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride though, on the day or even the night before?”

Sera turns and guides us inside to where Papa and Allegra have already sunk into deep chairs in the reception area. “Cristiano will be staying in Benito’s room the night before…”

My lungs constrict and suddenly I’m finding it hard to breathe.

“Besides,” Sera continues, “we’ll be rooming in a suite with Trilby for two nights. Bride’s request.”

I thump a fist against my chest in the hopes it will kickstart my lungs’ ability to operate.

“You okay?” Sera shoots me a concerned glance.

“Yeah,” I squeeze out. “Just… swallowed a bug I think.”

“What?” She looks horrified. “There shouldn’t be bugs in here! Wait here and Sergei will get you all checked in. I’ll meet you on the veranda for lunch in thirty minutes.”

Bambi and I watch Sera scurry away to locate some no doubt toxic chemical to eradicate the place of non-existent insects and wander out onto the patio.

“Wow…” Bambi twirls around, taking in the immaculate white building with its sash windows and manicured foliage. “I feel like we could be in England.”

I resist the pull to open my heart to the place. As gorgeous as it is, I dare not let my guard down. It’s challenge enough taming the butterflies coursing around my belly—they don’t understand that the man I’m so nervous about seeing is no good for me.

She takes out her phone and starts snapping photos while I wander off the patio to the lawns. Two of the cottages are set to the side—beautiful miniature versions of the big white country house, surrounded by small picket fences and flowers. Trilby will be in heaven.

I sit on a bench beside the lawn and listen to the waves in the distance. In seconds I’m lying on the hood of my car by the ocean looking into Bernadi’s glittering bronze eyes before he throws my legs apart.

Heat spirals down to my core knocking me off my axis and whipping away my breath.

The view ahead of me spins and suddenly I feel completely out of control. I have no agency over my visions and emotions. How am I going to get through the next few days if I can’t even get him out of my head, let alone my direct eyeline?

My heart sinks as I realize the only way I can stay afloat is to go back home. My heart sinks even further knowing Papa would have an aneurism if I even suggested it .

I drop my face into my hands and will the time to pass quickly. Then a warmth beside me draws my gaze to the right.

“What’s wrong, Tess?”

As my eyes get used to the light again, I feel some relief to see Trilby settled on the bench.

“How long have you been sitting there?”

“Couple minutes.” She strokes a hand down my back. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s nothing,” I say but a taut sigh follows the words. “Headache, that’s all.”

Her brow dips into a small frown. “Sera said you swallowed a fly back there. Are the two connected?” She arches a brow like she knows neither of those excuses are authentic.

I exhale slowly and turn to look out toward the ocean. When I don’t speak again, she continues. “You haven’t been to the house in a while. Does it have anything to do with Benny?”

A shiver curls its way down my spine and I’m sure she notices, but she doesn’t say anything.

“No. Why would it?”

She clicks her tongue. “Because he’s looked like shit for the last three weeks, which is roughly when I last saw you at Cristiano’s place.”

I turn slowly back to face her.

“Cristiano told me Benny was getting a little touchy about you. Has something been going on? I won’t judge you, Tess. I know you hated him—and for good reason—but I also know that feelings can change. ”

I drop my gaze to the ground and notice my hands are shaking. Just talking about Benito has whipped me up into a frenzy.

“Has he really been looking like shit?” I ask in barely a whisper.

“Yeah. Well, as shit as someone blessed with the skin of a supermodel and the jawline of a steak knife can look, sure.”

A smile pulls at my lips but I’m too shaken to give in to it.

She breathes out and rests her hand on mine. “You don’t have to tell me, but if you’re worried about seeing him, I can ask Cristiano to give him stuff to do that keeps him out of your way for the next few days. Obviously, the day of the wedding won’t be easy—you’ll be in the same room all day, but?—”

“He tied me up in a basement, Tril.”

Trilby sucks in a breath, removes her hand from mine and clamps it over her mouth. I don’t bother looking up. I see enough judgement in the mirror—I don’t need to see it from my sister too.

From what I can tell, she may in fact have stopped breathing, so I figure she deserves the full story.

“We’ve been having a thing since… well, since the day you gave me the music box.”

I eventually glance across to see her eyes widen further.

“But things got a little more serious when I went to Arena with my friend Paige.”

Trilby nods. So she knows about Arena .

“Benito was there. We went to a hotel, we stayed there for three days. He called me his girlfriend…”

A choke begins to work its way up my throat but I swallow it down because I refuse to cry any more tears over a man. Federico had my tears three years ago and look at what came of that…

“I was going to tell you at the lunch Cristiano hosted at his house, but…”

Trilby’s hand slides from her face and concern shrouds her features. “But what?”

“He found a note Federico had sent me. It arrived completely out of the blue and Bambi had only given it to me that day. But in it Fed talked about wanting to get his revenge on Benito for sending his family away. He said something about knowing his Achilles Heel and working with the Marchesi’s?—”

“The Marchesi’s? Are you serious?” She says, a little too loudly.

“Sshhh,” I hiss, knowing the patio is filling up not far behind us. “They’re empty threats, Trilby. I know Federico, and he isn’t like that. The note was written a few months ago. If he was going to appear and cause trouble, I’m confident he would have done so by now. That’s if he was going to do it, anyway, but he was always good at talking the talk—not so good at putting his words into action.”

That seems to settle Trilby slightly, then her frown sharpens. “Why did Benny tie you up in a basement?”

I take a long breath in. “He found the letter, believed I was working with Federico to avenge what Benito did to the Falconi’s. What hurt the most was, he didn’t even question it. Despite everything that had happened between us, he couldn’t find it in himself to trust me.”

Trilby rubs her eyes in my peripheral and mutters, “What the fuck , Benny?” Then she looks up suddenly. “Did he hurt you?”

Heaviness seems to engulf me until I can barely lift my head. “No. He didn’t hurt me. Not physically anyway.”

“So, what happened? How did you get away?”

“He released me eventually. But only after Cristiano confirmed the letter was old and Bambi had only just given it to me.”

“So Cristiano knew ?”

Oh shit . They’re getting married in three days and I might have just got Cristiano into a bit of hot water.

“According to Benito, yes.”

I can hear her teeth grinding beside me. After a few long moments, she huffs out a tight breath. “Well, that certainly explains why you haven’t been around to the house and I don’t blame you one little bit.”

I look up and she’s shaking her head, vehemently. When she stops, her gaze is hard. “Are you okay, Tess? Answer me honestly.”

“I’m fine, really. I just don’t want to see him. At least, I don’t think I do… It’s complicated.”

“I wish you’d told me sooner,” she says through thinned lips. “I’m so angry with both of them.”

“I wish I hadn’t told you at all,” I murmur. “This is your moment and I really don’t want to ruin it for you. ”

Trilby wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You won’t. I’m glad you told me. I’m going to be looking out for you better from now on, Tess. I promise. I’m never going to let anything bad happen to you again, okay?” She hugs me into her side but I don’t reply. It’s a sweet and honorable sentiment, but contrary to most peoples’ opinions, I wasn’t born yesterday. As much as Cristiano loves my sister, he’s still a mob man, and her influence can only stretch so far.

“Come on,” she says, pulling me to my feet. “Let’s go and get you some food.”

We turn and walk back toward the patio. From the sound and volume of voices, it seems our family and a large proportion of Cristiano’s have now arrived. We duck around some foliage framing the eating area, then my heart stops and the blood drains from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes.

Trilby is whispering something in my ear but I can’t seem to hear her. My gaze is caught like a rabbit in a snare. Benito Bernadi is standing at the doors to the patio and even though twenty people are chattering and moving around between us, it feels as though a tattooed calloused hand is sliding around my naked waist, hot breath coasting over my shoulder.

His eyes have darkened and even from this short distance I notice his jaw moving from side to side. One hand rests in his slacks while the other holds a lowball of whiskey. Whenever the light catches the dancing golden liquid, I’m reminded of the glisten in his eyes when he’s pulling me apart with his bare hands .

They’re not glistening now though. They’re opaque, and black.

Eventually, Trilby’s words cut through the haze. “Do you want me to get rid of him? Or we can take a walk. Whatever you want to do Tess. I’m right here.”

I give my head a small shake, my gaze still captured in his. “I’m fine.”

I’m not fine.

My stomach has liquified and the butterflies are careening about within like they’ve been electrocuted. And a stone-cold heaviness pulls me downward, as though something inside me is trying to keep my feet on the ground.

The movements between us slow down until I’m painfully aware that people are watching us as we stare at each other. All I can hear now are my heart beats—hard, short and filled with heavy emotion.

“Benito!” Cristiano’s bark cuts through the tension across the patio and makes me draw in a breath. Benito doesn’t look away. He holds my stare a few seconds longer, making it subtly but crystal clear he will do as Cristiano asks eventually, but only because he wants to. Just like there are a million other things he could do, if he wanted to.

When he glacially pans his gaze to Cristiano, the chattering across the patio slowly picks up again and I release my breath.

“Get some food,” Trilby says, in clipped tones. “I’ll be right back.”

She marches across the patio, around various members of the two families, and follows Cristiano and Benito into the hotel. I can’t help the little ball of guilt that forms in my chest at the thought I’ve muddied what should have been Cristiano and Trilby’s idyllic and problem-free wedding event.

“There you are!” Sera bounds over with a plate. “Come on, the food here is so amazing. And I sprayed the whole lobby. There won’t be any more irritating bugs, I promise you.”

I take the plate and follow her to the buffet table, marveling a little at how much Sera has come out of her shell. She was always the quietest of the four of us but she seems far more excitable and exuberant than she used to be. Usually, she keeps herself to herself and her astrology charts and tarot cards, but she seems lighter now, somehow.

“This place suits you, Sera,” I say, helping myself to a pizza slice and some salad.

“Does it?” She beams at me. “Well, I do like it here.”

“How’s the job? Are you enjoying the work?” I take a large bite of the pizza and resist swooning because it really is delicious.

Sera’s gaze softens, wistfully. “It’s good. It’s hard, I mean, the place is fully booked all of the time, so we don’t get many breaks but… the guests are fantastic, which makes it all worth it.”

“What kind of guests do you have here?” I’ve always been curious about how the other half lives. As a family, we’re not exactly poor, but we’re not uber rich like some.

She smooths down her dress and it’s only then I notice how amazing she looks. Her figure has filled out in all the right places, the hem of her skirt is just short enough to reveal the bottom of her slim thigh. Her auburn hair bounces joyfully around her face and her skin is glowing .

“We get a real mixed bag. Wall Street financiers, actors, New York society of course, and also just regular, nice people.”

“Celebrities?” I ask, shoveling the rest of the pizza into my mouth.

“Sometimes, yes. But we don’t get to see them a lot. They often stay in the cottages and we’re given strict instructions not to bother or approach them.” Sera lets out a soft breath. “Doesn’t matter though. I think ordinary people are far more interesting.”

My gaze narrows. Something about Sera is different, but I can’t put my finger on what it is.

“So, what’s the plan for the next few days?” I ask. Forewarned is forearmed and all that.

“So, tonight we’re having a dinner with all the guests…”

My heart sinks.

“Tomorrow is Trilby’s bachelorette party. I have the day off so we’re going down to the beach then up to one of the suites for a girly pampering session.”

“That sounds fun,” I force out, though I’m still mentally figuring out how I can either get out of or survive the family dinner.

“The following day is for final preparations and the rehearsal, then the next is the wedding!” She squeals and bunches her hands into fists, clapping them together excitedly. “In fact, you should probably try on your bridesmaid dress—Bambi too—as it’s been a while since your last fitting. We have a dressmaker on site who can make any last-minute alterations.”

Perfect excuse to get away. “Great! I’ll do it now. Where is it?”

“In your room. I’ll take you there now if you like?”

She takes my plate and hands it to a passing waiter who gives her a huge grin in return.

“How much longer do you plan to stay here?” I ask as we walk through the lounge to the main staircase. I glance around nervously, with half an ear listening for the sound of Benito’s voice.

“My placement is for twelve months, and I’m halfway through that now.”

She looks back over her shoulder at me as we climb the softly carpeted staircase. “I really love it here. I’m hoping they offer me a permanent job. If they don’t, I guess I’ll come home and figure out what next.”

Her shrug speaks of regret but her shoulders are light. The prospect of not getting what she wants doesn’t seem to bother her all that much. Then it occurs to me...

“Are you seeing someone?” I blurt out .

She doesn’t turn back around but I’d spot the immediate flush in her cheeks a mile away.

“You are, aren’t you?” I tease.

“No,” she replies quickly. “Not really.”

“Not really? You either are or you aren’t.”

We reach the top of the stairs and she takes a sharp right away from me. “Then it’s a no. I’m not officially seeing someone.”

“But you like someone,” I muse behind her. “And you speak so highly of the guests…”

She stops suddenly and spins around. “Here’s your room,” she says brightly, the flush still evident in the apples of her cheeks. “Your dress is inside, and your luggage has been put in there too.”

“Why are you being weird?” I frown. “So you like someone, it’s no big deal.”

“It’s nothing.” She shakes her head, bouncing her hair about, but it doesn’t shake the smile from her eyes. “So drop it, Tess, please?”

There’s something slightly pleading in her voice and I instantly empathize. I wouldn’t want anyone prying into the ‘thing’ I have with Benito, even if that ‘thing’ no longer exists.

“Sure, no worries. And thanks for bringing me to my room. Will you be at the dinner too? Or will you be working?”

She wraps her warm hands around mine as if to say a silent thank you for not pushing her. “I’ll be at the dinner,” she says with a smile. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. ”

Then she walks past me and heads back downstairs leaving me to ponder the very real possibility I actually would miss it for the world.