Page 10 of Gilded Saint

The man who threw punches scared me too. And I hadn’t even known he was an arms dealer. But he had been patient with me. Kept his distance as I pulled myself together. He wore strange shoes.

“Orlando—”

“Willow.”

“Papa wouldn’t.”

Orlando’s sad eyes gut me. “Willow, he can’t say no.”

“Willow, where have you been?”

Mamma and Papa sit on the sofa, dressed in silk pajamas, the television frozen.

The frozen screen tells me everything. They’ve been up watching television, waiting for my return. Upon hearing us enter, Papa hit pause.

“I walked home along the beach.”

“Willow, you are no longer a young girl. We expected you to spend the evening with us. Your absence was noticed and did not reflect well.”

“You were at the event long enough to gain the interest of a prominent gentleman,” Papa says, seemingly dismissing Mamma’s reprimand with the worst insinuation.

Tears well in my eyes. “Papa.” I want to sound strong, but my weak voice comes out like a plea.

“You brought this on yourself. You refuse to meet any of the men we recommend,” he says.

“Papa, you don’t need to do this. You don’t need?—”

“He’s my capo.” On the sofa, with his blue eyes veiled behind spectacles, his age shows. “We have sheltered you, but you are not ignorant. If you had been more amenable to the other men we found for you?—”

“Papa!”

He hardens.

I still under his glare. I shouldn’t have raised my voice.

His fingers clutch the armrest on the sofa so hard the nail beds whiten.

“We spoiled you. We gave you too much.”

“Two of his wives committed suicide.”

“Nonsense. Legends spread to instill fear. There’s no truth to them. Tomorrow afternoon, we’re hosting?—”

“No.” I capture Mamma’s gaze and plead with my eyes. She can’t. She knows what happens to women who marry men like Leandro. “Please?—”

“Tesoro mio…” Papa’s voice trails. He pushes off the sofa, and that’s it. He’s standing. It’s done. “Massimo believes you could be good for his brother. You will calm him. Give him what he needs at home. His children are older, and they wouldn’t be much work for you. He hires a full staff. You can still paint. You would want for nothing. He’s second in line for capo. It’s a good match.”

Mamma’s gaze drops to the ground, refusing to meet mine.

This is what Scarlet endured. Her mother, my mother’s sister, forced her to marry a good match. She went through hell. She’d still be in hell if she hadn’t killed Vincent, and now she’s a pariah. So-called legend paints her as the monster.

I won’t. There’s no way.

“We’re in the middle of a show. Why don’t you get some rest, and in the morning, your mother and you can go shopping? You can buy something new. Shoes, handbag, jewelry, whatever your heart desires. We’re breaking from the weekend’s festivities and hosting Massimo’s family on the piazza. Only for an hour or so, but you should look your best.”

Chapter6

Sam, aka Leo, aka Saint

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