Page 16 of Borrowed Bride

“What the hell are you doing here?” he roars, roughly grabbing my shoulders as terror surges up my throat. “You’re not supposed to be here. Ever!”

6

MARCO

“What are you doing here?!” I bellow. Anger surges through me like fog, clouding out all my other senses. Only one fact remains in my mind; keeping Emi safe. Nothing and no one else matters.

They never will.

“I—I’m sorry!” Gianna stammers, trembling in my grip. “I was just walking and I?—”

“You don’t find this place by just walking. You were ordered to stay out of the south wing! You really do have a death wish.”

I’m in the process of dragging Gianna back toward the wall when a sudden sharp pain flares across my side as Emilia pokes me with her walking stick.

“Marco Francis Barrone!” Emilia scolds sharply. “Stop being such a terror and leave her alone!”

I freeze in place with Gianna trembling in my grip. She looks past me, and her shining eyes widen further at the sight of the woman behind me. I turn.

Emilia is on her feet, pulling a knitted shawl around her frail shoulders. She adjusts it, then moves the fabric over her badly scarred arm and hides it from view.

“Emilia,” I snap, softening my voice. “You know what this means.” I glare back at Gianna. “You will forget ever coming here if you want to make it out of herealive.”

“Marco!” Emilia scolds and her stick smacks into my thigh. “She’s here. She’s seen me. There’s no point keeping this a secret.”

“Emilia, if anyone finds out from her, then you?—”

“I am quite aware,” Emilia interrupts briskly. “Let go of your wife and introduce us before I use this again!” Despite her unsteady stance, she waves her cane up near my face and I relent.

My grip on Gianna relaxes and she instantly jerks herself away from me.

“Emilia, this is Gianna. Mywife,” I say tightly. “Gianna. This is Emilia. My sister.”

Gianna pauses rubbing her arm and stares openly at Emilia. Her eyes are so wide it’s a wonder they don’t pop out of her skull.

“Your…sister?” Gianna croaks. She sniffles, quickly wiping at her eyes. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to?—”

“Nonsense.” Emilia leans heavily onto her walking stick. “Ignore my idiot brother. He’s at war all the time, and he forgets to be human. Please.” Emilia nods to the seats around the small table. “Sit with us.”

I want Gianna to say no. Every second we linger here is a second too long. The more she knows, the bigger the threat she is to my life, and Emilia’s, and I have spentdecadeskeeping Emilia safe.

“I should leave,” Gianna says shakily, glancing at me.

“Nonsense,” Emilia says. “Sit down.” Suddenly, she erupts into a wheezing coughing fit, and all thoughts of reprimanding Gianna vanish from my mind. I’m by my sister’s side instantly, helping her ease back down into her chair. She tries to wave me off but she’s far too weak now. Once seated, I crouch besideher and check the lines to the oxygen tank that sits beside her. Everything looks good.

“Emilia, you can’t exert yourself,” I warn gently.

Emilia scoffs roughly, dabbing at her scarred lips with a tissue. “If you weren’t such a pigheaded brute, I wouldn’t have to,” she snaps. Her pale eyes lock on to Gianna, who sits very cautiously beside her. “It’s lovely to meet you, dear.”

“I…” Gianna keeps her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand.”

“What don’t you understand?” Emilia asks.

I take my seat next to Emilia, watching Gianna with a frown. I should have known a street rat like her wouldn’t have listened to a few simple rules. Maybe making the south wing off-limits turned it into a beacon for a thief like her.

“You,” Gianna says, and her eyes dart to me. “I thought Marco’s sister was dead.”

“Marco, pour the poor girl some tea,” Emilia snaps at me.

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