Page 22 of Leave Me (Touch of Death 2)
I count to five in my head and will myself to calm down, to stop fighting. Centering myself, I slip into the role, as an actress would a part. To these people, I can play the doting fiancé. They’re easy to fool, but they don’t matter. It’s him that needs to buy my lies. And this is my first chance to sell them. I slide one trembling hand around the back of his neck and close the distance between us until my chest presses against his body. My stomach churns violently, and I swallow down the sickening sensation. My lips part subserviently, inviting his possession. There’s the slightest hesitation before he takes it, violating my mouth until I feel filthy and soiled. When we finally break apart, he stares at me through narrowed eyes, as though he’s trying to work me out. The noise from the gathered guests starts to filter in, the clapping and cheering. My face heats, and I stare down at my hands, at the enormous solitaire diamond that now sits like a trophy on my ring finger. The weight of it feels like lead, the cool of the metal as though it’s burning my skin.
A few men step forward to congratulate us, and by us, I mean him. Once again, they ignore me, and I’m glad because I don’t need their scrutiny right now. I need a second to pull myself together. Not for the first time since I handed myself over to Enrique, I wonder if I can actually do this. It feels like I’m being torn in two. Loyalty to my father drives two different emotions that are pulling in opposing directions.
The taste of Enrique’s whiskey still lingers on my lips, and I feel horrible. When I close my eyes, it’s Sasha’s face I see. The figurative knife digs deeper and deeper. I wonder how many people I will betray before this is over: my father, Sasha, Gabi. I miss Sasha. I miss the way he made me feel invincible simply because he was standing beside me. A pang of longing stabs through my chest.
“Excuse me,” I say in a rush.
Enrique spares me a glance, but I’m already moving, rushing toward Gabriella—salvation in a room full of enemies. She watches me approach, her expression remaining impassive, ever the professional. I ignore everyone else as they try to gain my attention. I feel like I’m being squeezed, and the pressure is going to make me explode. When I reach my sister, I grab her arm and tug her toward the bar.
“Tequila!” I bark at the barman. A shot glass appears in front of me with a slice of lime on top. The liquid burns over my tongue and trickles down my throat as I tip it back. The sourness of the lime chases it, and I wince.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to get trashed at your own engagement party, Lina,” Gabi mumbles, forcing false humor into her voice as she rolls her eyes at the man standing at the opposite end of the bar. All about appearances.
I snort. “Another,” I tell the bartender.
“Careful,” my sister warns, quieter this time. “People are watching.”
I look up and find her now smiling politely at a woman nearby. Ah, Gabriella is ever the diplomat. The woman moves away, and the man who was standing at the bar takes his drink and leaves. My sister moves closer until her elbow bumps mine.
“Are you okay?” she whispers.
“I’m fine,” I say, necking the next tequila shot, and she falls into silence. I look at her as I suck on the lime. Her brow tightens, lips pressing in a flat line. “I’m fine,” I repeat.
“You’re marrying Enrique Bianchi.”
“Yes.”
“Why?” Her eyes narrow further, and I say nothing. She moves closer, ducking her head to mine. “I sent you away, Lina. You were protected.”
“There is no protecting me from this,” I mumble.
“Look, if you’re trying to protect the family…”
“I’m doing this because I want to.” I can’t talk to her about this. Not here. There are ears and eyes everywhere. “It will unite our families.” I recite the words like the dutiful little mafia wife they all think I am.
I can see the cogs turning in her mind, processing my lies. She’s confused and probably a little betrayed. I’m sleeping with the enemy, or I will be. That thought has me needing another shot of tequila. Gabriella’s hand slides over mine where it sits on the bar.
“I’m always here, Lina. Whatever you need. Whatever trouble you might get in; I’ll get you out.”
I smile at her, feeling the tell-tale prickle of threatening tears because I know she would. Even though she has her own share of problems, I know she’d move heaven and earth to rescue me from this fate if I asked her to. She tried. She fought to keep me from Enrique’s clutches. She sent me to Sasha, and he would have protected me to the death.
