Page 81 of Beautiful Vows

I reach across Cade and grab her phone, handing it to her.

She swipes her cell and doesn’t get to say anything but listens to the caller.

Her face pales as she looks at me and says, “Helena's dead.”

Chapter 27

Lia

The church is stuffy, filled with the nauseating scent of too many flowers, and the hushed whispers of mourners, asking, “Why would someone want to kill her?”

I’m not one of the mourners, despite the amount of people giving me their condolences.

I shift uncomfortably in the hard wooden pew sandwiched between Rafe and Dante as another lady approaches. Luckily, she heads straight to Dominic.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she says. “She was such a lovely woman.”

Nobody knew her.

Nobody knows she’s not his wife.

“If only everyone knew who she really was,” I murmur to Rafe.

“It’ll be over soon.” Cade presses his hand over my knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. He sits beside Rafe, like me he never wanted to attend.

I wonder how many of the people here actually cared for my stepmother, and how many are here out of obligation for Dominic.

Though, I’m no better. I’m here for appearance’s sake, nothing more.

The air feels heavy with tension as we wait for the service to begin.

I smooth down my black dress, more out of nervous habit than for any proper concern for my appearance. But as I do, goosebumps pop on my arms.

I scan the crowd, looking at the sea of black-clad figures filling the pews. Noting familiar faces and strangers alike, all wearing appropriately serious expressions, but nobody stands out. It doesn’t stop me from feeling I’m being watched.

I glance around again. This time it’s the ornate stained glass windows that catch my eyes as it casts colorful patterns across the stone floor.

Finally, the organ plays softly in the background, drowning out the words of those around me.

“Are you okay?” Rafe asks.

“I am. Are you?”

Since we arrived, Rafe has sat upright and alert. He is so much more guarded since his kidnapping, his eyes constantly moving, assessing potential threats even here in this divine space.

To his left, Cade stares ahead, but I watch as he taps the gun underneath his suit jacket.

And then to my right, Dante exudes an aura of calm authority, his face a mask of mourning. He’s better at this than I am.

I should feel something, I suppose - sadness, regret, even anger. But I feel hollow. My stepmother and I were never close, but our relationship disintegrated before her fake marriage to Dominic. Our exchanges became worse afterward, nothing but a bitter war of thinly veiled hatred.

Dominic sits in the pew in front of us. He never wanted to be a pallbearer for Helena. He decided his place was with Milly and Amara today. “She’s dead. I can’t help her now, but I can help your sisters.”

Rafe thought it was strange. I agreed with Dominic. My sisters need him more than she does now. Especially Amara, as she leans her head on his shoulder.

A hush falls over the congregation as the church doors open.

I glance over my shoulder. The pallbearers enter, carrying the ornate coffin on their shoulders. Polished teak wood and gleaming brass fittings. My stepmother would have approved of its ostentatious elegance.

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