Page 24 of Borrowed Bride

“It wasn’t me.”

The words are out of my mouth as soon as the door closes. The drive home was tense, with Marco mostly on the phone barking orders like his life depended on it. Even his father was oddly silent and he vanished when we arrived at the manor, presumably off to do whatever Marco was demanding of everyone else.

“It wassomeone,” Marco replies tightly, pacing back and forth as he wrenches his tie away from his neck. “That weaselly little fucker!”

Marco’s phone blares to life and he answers it, storming to the other end of the study. Alone, I sink down onto the nearest chair and carefully remove my shoes. My toes and heels ache but it was so worth it to feel this beautiful for the first night of my life. And yet, it’s soured.

Leonardo claimed to know that Emilia was alive. Such a revelation clearly shook Marco to the core and Leonardo slipped away with such a smug smile on his face, it was a wonder Marco let him walk out at all.

It turns out he’s trying to find a credible reason for Leo to make such a claim while clinging to the hope that it’s just some weird shot in the dark to try and fuck with him. Leo seemed charming up until Marco arrived, then he became rather snakelike. It was an abrupt wake-up call that everyone in this life has some kind of agenda.

But that’s not what shook me the most. While Marco and Leo were brawling on the floor, I saw something. It was hard to be certain in the commotion of the fight, but I’m fairly certain I saw someone I recognized at the party. I have no friends and certainly no family. Running into anyone from any part of my life sets off alarm bells.

But I can’t be sure. The person I saw shouldn’t be at parties, never mind at a Mafia dinner. I mull her face over, trying to decide if she’s real or if I’m just filling in the blanks because she was familiar. If there’s a chance—any chance at all—that she’s a part of this world, then I’m not safe—not in the slightest.

“I don’t care what it takes!” Marco yells suddenly, making me jump as his voice slices through the silence of the room. “I want security doubled and I want eyes on Leo. He doesn’t breathe or take a shit without me knowing about it, understand?”

While my mind wandered, Marco had discarded his suit jacket and belt, leaving him in just a crisp white shirt that threatens to burst at the seams each time he heaved a deep breath.

Would he protect me?

If I told him the truth, would he even care? Or would he decide I’m no longer worth the hassle and just do away with me?

Marco grunts sharply. “No. I’ll do it. I’ll reach out to him once I’ve made sure we have no holes to plug. The guy’s bragging about my deceased sister, of course I’m fucking concerned.”

He ends the call and slams his hand down on the desk. I rise slowly and pad barefoot toward him.

“Marco?”

He’s glaring down at the wood, panting harshly and his muscles are so tight that each line is defined even through his shirt.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No one knows,” he murmurs tightly. “I make sure of it. All these years, I’ve made sure of it. No one knows. And yet he says these things…”

“Maybe he’s lying?” I offer softly. “I don’t know how he works but maybe he’s lying to get a rise out of you? Throw you off your game while he plans something bigger?”

Marco lifts his head and his eyes lock on to mine. “You’re right. You don’t know how he works.” He straightens up further and sighs with a rasp. “I need to find out if he knows anything. If he doesn’t then he can rot. If he does, then I will kill him. Fastest way to keep him quiet.”

“That would start a war, son, and you know it.” Dante appears at the door, back from wherever he rushed off to. “The Simone family is bigger than ours, Marco. Stronger too.”

“They’re bigger sure, but not stronger. They’re like chickens scattered in the wind, lost and headless. They use their numbers to swarm but how many times have we pushed them back, hm? They mean nothing.”

“Don’t underestimate them,” Dante says.

“What would you have me do?” Marco bellows suddenly and I flinch, my heart racing. “You know exactly why I have to stamp this out. I will not have these past decades mean nothing because Leonardo fucking Simone thinks he has all the information!”

Dante doesn’t reply. He looks between us and shakes his head. “Then let us hope that Gianna is right and he is merely trying to mess with your head.”

What a night.Exhaustion weighs down my limbs as I climb the stairs and my mind races. Emilia’s survival might no longer be a secret, and a ghost from my past haunts me. Could things get any worse?

A few steps from the top, Marco suddenly scoops me up into his arms and I don’t have the energy to be indignant. I wind my arms around his neck and cling to him with a soft noise of appreciation. He carries me the rest of the way, all the way to my bedroom, where he then sets me down on the bed.

Being apart from him after such a whirlwind night isn’t something I’m ready for so when he tries to step away with a grunt, I catch his wrist.

He turns to look at me, clearly as tired as I feel, but there’s something so insanely attractive about his half-open shirt dotted with blood and the rough mess of his hair.

I don’t speak. Honestly, I’m not even sure what I want from him other than his presence. He holds my gaze for what feels like an eternity, then suddenly surges forward and our mouths collide. He kisses me like he’s trying to consume me, and I amherefor it.

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