Page 7 of When She Loves
I grasp the neckline and pull it up to my nose, searching for a hint of her scent, but it doesn’t smell like Gem. My heart clenches. She has to be okay, or I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.
When I come out, the woman is scowling by the dressing table. “Sit down. I need to do your face and hair.”
“I can do it myself.”
She holds up a hairbrush like she’s about to smack me with it. “Sit.”
I heave out a sigh and slump in the chair. Again, none of this treatment is new to me. Mamma never let me get ready for events she dragged me to, and I always had to wear the itchy, frilly dresses she picked out for me. I hated how I looked in them—just like an obedient mafia wife.
Good thing I learned a long time ago I could ruin that perception as soon as I opened my mouth.
The woman sweeps on my makeup in a precise and efficient way, and then she prods and pulls on my curly, copper hair. I accept her rough treatment without a single complaint, but I remember every time she pulls on me harder than she needs to.
“Cleo,” she says, testing my name on her tongue with a scowl. “What kind of a name is that? It’s not even Italian.”
Oh, she’ll love this story.
“My mamma was carrying me when she walked in on Papà fucking another woman in his office. She gave me a non-Italian name out of spite.”
The brushing stops abruptly. I meet the woman’s appalled gaze in the mirror and raise a brow. “She preferred he kept his whores far from our home.”
What’s sad is that my name was my mother’s only act of rebellion against her husband during their twenty-plus years of marriage. Sometimes, when I made Mamma really angry, she’d say I was her punishment for that rebellion.I put that rotten streak in you with your name.
The woman recovers from her shock. “I hope you’re not stupid enough to talk that way around the don’s relatives.”
“What’s your name?” I ask. I like to know the names of my enemies.
“Sabina,” she says. “I’m the house manager. I was hired by the don’s grandmother, the late Signora Costa. She was a real lady. Pure class.” She leans down until her lips are hovering beside my ear and whispers, “This used to be a respectable family, and now look at the trash they’ve brought in.”
Miserable woman. “Take it up with your don. This trash would be happy to take itself right out if he no longer wants it.”
She straightens out and sneers. “The don is making a mistake marrying you. Everyone knows it. If only you knew how the family’s been arguing about it, you wouldn’t dare to show your face tonight.”
I purse my lips as I process this information. Interesting. So the Messeros aren’t happy about the bride swap, huh? Well, it’s good to know I won’t be the only miserable person at the wedding.
“You really overestimate the number of fucks I give about the feelings of Rafaele’s family,” I retort.
Sabina sprays something over my hair. “With that mouth, you won’t last very long.”
Maybe she’s right. Rafaele doesn’t know what he’s getting here. I’m not an easy person to live with, and once I know Gem’s safe, he won’t have anything he can use to keep me in line. Even if he threatens to hurt me, I won’t care. I’d rather die than become a submissive shell of a human like my mother.
“You’re ready. Let’s go.” Sabina wraps her palm around my elbow and hauls me to my feet.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To the don, of course.”
Heart hammering, I let her lead me out of the room and do my best not to stumble. My legs feel like jelly.
I am so damn fucked.
CHAPTER3
RAFAELE
My fist crashesinto the man’s jaw with a sharp crack. “I have somewhere to be, Joshua. Stop wasting my time.”
He moans, blood and saliva leaking out of his mouth and onto the polished concrete floor.
