Page 84 of Dark Truths

Gabriella

“So, how does this thing work again?” I ask Dimitri, glancing down at the necklace round my neck. It’s a beautiful piece. Round rose gold with the symbol of the sun in the middle. He surprised me with it after we left the courthouse this morning with our marriage certificate in hand.? We agreed we should be married before meeting my family. My father believes in the sanctity of marriage and, like Dimitri suggested, he's less likely to kill him if we're already married.

“When you touch the center for at least three seconds, it will send a notification to my necklace, making it vibrate,” he explains, while he tugs his matching necklace free from beneath his shirt. Only his is black with a symbol of a crescent moon. “It lets me know that you’re thinking of me. And it works both ways.” He demonstrates by holding his finger to the center of his pendant, and sure enough, my necklace vibrates in response.

“It’s really cool.” A disturbing thought crosses my mind, and I twist in my seat to settle him with a narrowed eyed gaze. “Does it have a GPS feature too, by chance?”

A wicked grin forms on his lips before he takes my hand, raises it to his lips, and plants a kiss on the back. “I can neither confirm nor deny.”

I roll my eyes before huffing under my breath. “That’s a yes, then.”

We’re on our way to my family estate to share the truth with my family, and with every mile we drive closer, the anxiety in the car only increases. Dimitri’s eyes haven’t left the road for longer than a quick second and he keeps shifting in his seat, like he can’t get comfortable. I feel the same, as hard as I try to act like I’m not. I keep imagining different scenarios in my mind, playing them over and over, each one as terrible as the next.

In one, we don’t even make it to the front door before my dad’s men have Dimitri on the ground. In another, Michael shoots Dimitri the moment he reveals we got married this morning at the courthouse. And then, of course, if by some miracle he survives long enough to make into the house, then there’s telling my family how he’s been working for the FBI as an undercover agent in the Bratva.

Yeah. This is going to be a really fun family meeting.

“Is it too late to turn around?” I ask, breaking the silence with a humorless laugh.

Dimitri runs his thumb over the back of my hand, the physical gesture meant to ease both of our worried minds and, says only a single word, “Yes.”

He’s right, and it’s silly to think or hope otherwise.

We stay quiet for the rest of the drive, each of us lost to our imagination and fears of what’s coming. The guards stop us at the gate with a mix of confusion and recognition. I check the mirror to see them calling in our arrival, so it’s no surprise tofind my father waiting outside for us when we pull around to the front of the house. I can’t read his face behind his sunglasses, so I’m unable to judge his emotions or thoughts. Which doesn’t bode well for us and leaves me feeling uneasy.

“Last chance to turn and run,” I say, not as a joke this time, but for real.

“Something tells me we won’t get far.” Dimitri takes a deep breath before he releases it slowly. He meets my eyes and I’m not sure what he sees that makes him reach up to trace the curve of my face with the back of his hand. “But know this, angel.” A gleam appears in his blue eyes, like a spark of electricity I feel in my very soul. “Whatever happens in there. It’s you and me. I don’t care if your family disagrees. But if they try to separate us, I will fight for you, for us. Do you understand?”

Without my eyes leaving his, I reach for his hand, twisting my head to place a kiss on his palm and vow, “I’ll fight too.”

The tension in the air as we approach my father is thick enough to cut with a knife. He removes his glasses and slides his eyes down to our joined hands before snapping back up with murderous intent. If he didn’t know before, he knows now. Beside him is Mom, and her demeanor is much more open and welcoming. With a big smile, she steps forward and envelops me in a hug.

“I heard the news,” Mom says as she steps back and glances between Dimitri and I. “But I didn’t want to believe it. How long has this been going on?”

Her question is not of malcontent or judgment, but honest curiosity.

“Off and on since early last year,” I answer and watch the wheels turn in her mind as she puts two and two together.

“Is he?” she trails off, but I know what the rest of her question was going to be.

“Yes.”

Mom’s smile turns a little sad as she looks at Dimitri. He bows his head solemnly, letting my mom know he’s aware of the miscarriage too. I want to wipe the sad smile from my mom’s face, but Dimitri and I agreed to wait until the right moment to tell my family about the twins and standing outside the front door, isn’t it.

“Can we go inside?” I ask, straightening my spine and leveling Dad with a look I inherited from him.

I resemble Mom in every physical way, but I got my attitude and personality from my dad. He raised a mafia princess, but I’m a princess with a backbone. So, he can fume all he likes, but I’m not about to back down. And he can thank himself for that. He matches my challenging stare with an equally intense one. That is until Mom steps in.

“Of course, sweetheart. Isn’t that right, dear?” Mom asks, with heavy sarcasm dripping from her question when she turns on her husband.

To his credit, Dad knows when to pick his battles. “Yes, everyone is waiting inside anyhow.” But he also knows when to be passive aggressive.

Turning around, he saunters off into the house without a backwards glance. Dimitri squeezes my hand, and we share a look before following behind them.

Everyone turns out to be just about everyone. The living room is crowded with Michael, Rose, Raphael, Lily, and Enzo, filling up the large space and making it feel cramped. If the sight concerns or makes Dimitri nervous, he doesn’t show it, but I am. My hand tightens around his as if I can draw on some of his resolve to strengthen mine.

My eyes scan the room. Michael is slouched in an oversized chair, with Rose comfortably nestled against his chest. His arms are spread across the top of the chair, one hand gently caressing her shoulder while she rests a hand on his thigh. On the couchopposite them, Raphael and Lily sit in a similar fashion, though Lily has her legs draped casually over Raphael’s lap. To an outsider, they might appear to be just two sweet couples in love, but I know better. Rose and Lily are subtly working their charm to keep their men anchored to their seats.

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