Page 105 of When She Falls (The Fallen)
How did it take me until the age of twenty to realize it’s a lie?
I feel trapped. Vince hasn’t returned my calls, and I don’t know why. My wedding is mere weeks away, and at this point, making any attempt to back out would be like setting off an atomic bomb.
What if Papà’s right about Vince not wanting the responsibility? Why didn’t I ask him about it at Vale’s wedding?
I gnaw on my nail. I don’t know what to do. I’m not a political mastermind.
All of this just feels wrong.
Except for what’s happening between Ras and I.
Which is crazy, because what we’re doing isobjectivelywrong. The Gemma from even a month ago would have never done what I did in that car with him.
I’m cheating on my fiancé. I’m risking us getting caught. I’m being selfish.
And it feels intoxicating.
The scene in the car played on repeat inside my head for the two days we were away.
I couldn’t wait to be back around him.
I want more. So much more.
I wish we hadn’t stopped.
A waiter snaps me out of my reverie when he comes to refill my water. I glance around the table. Ras is sitting across from me, while Cleo and I are sandwiched between Papà and Mamma. Rafaele, Rafaele’s mother, and Nero are here as well.
My fiancé may as well be a ghost. I barely register him. When I first met Rafaele, I was constantly aware of his presence, the way prey is aware of a predator. Now, it’s surprisingly easy to pretend he doesn’t exist. Why should I save my body for him? This emphasis on my virtue when most of the men in this room possess none is hypocrisy at its finest.
I wish I’d just said screw it and had sex with Ras. The thought of doing it makes my skin buzz with excitement.
I want to feel all of his attention on my body again, but with no restraint this time. I want him to lose himself in me. Those lips on my breasts. His fists in my hair.
He’d be gentle at first. Careful. I’m sure of it. That’s how he was with me in the car. But then he’d turn impatient. Demanding. It’s that contrast in him that makes me weak in the knees.
Ras cuts into his steak with precision and puts a piece into his mouth. The tendons on his thick neck move, and his jaw flexes as he chews. His big, rough hands make the fork look tiny.
Heat swirls between my legs.
I love those hands.
I love how they feel against my skin.
I love how just before he puts them on me, my body tingles with anticipation and everything comes alive.
He must feel the weight of my attention, because he glances in my direction. The expression on my face makes his eyes darken.
“Ras, when are you heading back to Italy?” Nero asks.
His gaze is still on me, and it flashes with pain. “Soon.”
What?My stomach drops. “How soon?” I blurt out, barely hiding my crushing disappointment.
He cuts another piece of steak. “No set date yet, but I’m likely to leave within the week.”
It’s an effort to maintain control over my features.
What is this? Why is he leaving?
