Page 2 of When She Loves
Finally. There’s real conviction in her voice. This might be her chance to break free from Papà’s shackles and do what’s right for her. But she can’t start a new life with Papà and Rafaele on her back. As long as they need her for this marriage, they’ll never let her go.
A heavy weight settles in the pit of my stomach.
I can make them stop needing Gemma.
After all, she’s not the only Garzolo daughter around here.
Fucking fuck.
I brush my curls off my neck, feeling a nervous heat creep up my skin. Can I do this?
I have to do this.
Yes, it’s time to grow up. I’ve spent years dreaming of moving to LA, working as a music manager, rubbing shoulders with the talented and the famous, and having the freedom to do whatever the hell I wanted, but I’d never enjoy it if the price is Gem’s happiness. She deserves to live her life with someone who loves her the way Ras does.
She’s always had my back. Now, it’s my turn to have hers.
I wrap my palms over her knees and look into her eyes. “Are you willing to fight for it?”
Gemma sniffs and wipes her cheeks. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
My chest tightens.
And so will I. For her, I’ll do anything. She deserves no less than that.
“Gem, I’ll take your place.”
Confusion flashes over her features. “What do you mean?”
I take a deep breath. “I’ll marry Rafaele.”
* * *
A day later, I’m sitting in an Italian restaurant in Chelsea owned by the Messeros.
This was supposed to be an intimate dinner with Rafaele’s immediate family and ours, so there are just seven other people scattered around the large dining table.
It’s quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
Rafaele’s mother and uncle have barely said a word since we sat down. So far, the conversation’s been dominated by Papà, but even he’s got his mouth shut now. A drop of sweat rolls down his pockmarked temple, and the sight of it fills me with satisfaction.
Nervous? You should be.
Gemma asked to speak with Rafaele alone just a few minutes ago, and now they’re talking in his office. Everyone can sense something is wrong. My sister’s supposed to be getting married in three days, but if their conversation goes well, it won’t be Gemma walking down the aisle.
It will be me.
Mamma is staring at her plate, her jaw tight. Beside her, my brother, Vince, is swirling the wine in his glass, a notch between his brows. I glance to my right, over Gemma and Rafaele’s empty seats, and lock eyes with Nero De Luca, Rafaele’s consigliere. For once, that annoying mountain of a man looks a bit uncertain. He lifts his brows, like he’s asking me if I know what this is all about.
As if I’d ever tell him. He’s just as bad as his tyrannical boss.
While it’s a bit thrilling to be the only one here in on the secret, what’snotthrilling is knowing that the best-case scenario ends with me walking out of here as an engaged woman.
I vowed I’d never marry a mobster.
But for Gemma, I’ll break that vow without any regrets.
Footsteps sound, and a moment later, the two of them reappear.
