Page 16 of Gilded Saint

I nod, incredulous that I’m in this situation. She peers up at me like I’m her savior. Will she be of the same opinion when I disappear? How she views me doesn’t matter. This insane action saves her from a fuckwad, and I’ll leave her in a better place.

“When should we set the date?” Alessio has his phone out, checking his calendar.

Fuck me.“What’s a normal engagement period?”

If he says six months or a year, then it won’t be any use to Willow, as I plan to be long gone. My exit is overdue.

“When are you returning to London?”

“Sunday.”

“Let’s do it Sunday. We’ll make it a small affair, immediate family only.”

The shock on Orlando’s and Willow’s faces tells me this isn’t normal, and skepticism stirs. “Is Massimo going to have an issue with our arrangement?”

“No.” Her father smiles, but it’s more of a nasty leer. “Because you’re going to promise that the connection will prove lucrative to our family. By the time Leandro finds out, it will be a done deal.”

I could be reading my young fiancée wrong, but she looks as shell-shocked as I feel. She sidles up to me, giving me an eyeful of her breasts, thanks to the low-cut top she’s wearing. Fantastic tits. Perfectly shaped. Natural. Her bra must be pushing them up, holding them just so, as if on an offering plate. She has no business wearing such a low-cut dress.

Her father emits a guttural noise, reminding me of the present predicament. A young woman pleaded with me to help her, and bringing her back to London with me is an easy enough fix. I’ll set her up well before I split, and she’ll be safe. If it were one of my sisters in this fucked up situation, I’d want someone to step up for them.

“All right. Sunday it is.”

Chapter7

Willow

Scarlet tugs on my braid. Her lips are downturned, her eyes despondent and dark. Even her brilliant red strands appear dull in the evening light.

“This is a good thing,” I reassure her, though not quite believing it. But if my parents planned on marrying me to a made man, a man who killed for initiation, then this indeed presents my best chance for escaping this world.

A puffy white concoction hangs on the garment rack in the middle of the room. The dress is one of several my mother had sent by courier from Milan, and the only one that required minimal alterations. It’s too tight in the ribcage and transforms my average breasts into bountiful mounds, an attribute my mother values. I look like a swirl of meringue in the dress, but it’s what Mamma wants, and I have no preference.

My future groom prefers men. If I’m lucky, we’ll foster a strong friendship. He’s a good man, with kind brown eyes, and courage. He fought off both Leandro and my father. He’s a fierce man, but his expression softens around me. There’s every reason to be optimistic we can spawn a supportive partnership.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this.” Scarlet’s voice is soft and meek. Her fears stem from experience, a horrible one.

I take my cousin’s hands and squeeze.

“He’s not a Lupi Grigi.”

“He’s in the syndicate, Willow. For all we know, that could be worse. And London. If you need help…” Her eyes glaze with unshed tears. “How would I know?”

“If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone?”

“Who would I tell?”

She’s right. She doesn’t like anyone here, and I can’t blame her. They stood by and did nothing, and now they have the audacity to judge her for protecting herself. “Promise.”

“I promise.” She forms a swift cross over her heart.

“He’s gay. That’s why he’s willing to do this.”

Her eyes narrow. “How do you know?”

“Orlando told me. And think about it. He travels to the Middle East. Places where it’s frowned upon or even criminalized. That’s what he gets out of it.” I reach for her hand, but she pulls it back, distrust evident in her frown.

“You don’t know…Vincent wasn’t motivated by sex.”

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