Page 40 of Dangerous Deception

16

ADELINA

Rain drizzles down like fine mist, soaking into any piece of clothing not safe under one of the large, black umbrellas. My shoes pinch at my ankles and squeeze my toes, this skirt is too tight around my hips, and one of my hairpins sits at an odd angle against my scalp.

I force a smile through it all because the moment I stop focusing on keeping this smile in place, I’ll break down into a puddle of tears and I’ll barely be able to make it home.

Marie’s funeral isn’t anything like I imagined. We joked sometimes that funerals should be filled with light and laughter, a celebration of life rather than mourning the loss. Marie told me once that she wanted a really crazy song to play while she was being cremated, something that would be horrifying at the time but hilarious as a memory.

I wanted to give her that. I wanted to give her everything she would have loved, but this time, it was out of my control.

Marie’s parents planned the funeral after Raffaele delivered the news that their daughter had died in a terrible accident. A car crash. I’d wanted to be there when he told them, but when we arrived at their place, I couldn’t get out of the car.

Raffaele broke the news for me and stayed with them for a few hours to comfort them. Meanwhile, I sat in the car, willing myself to go inside, but I couldn’t.

How could I face them after what I’d done?

Raffaele spent the past two weeks telling me that what happened wasn’t my fault. We were victims of a terrible, random attack, and the blame doesn’t rest with me. None of his words have shifted the guilt that sits like a smothering weight in my chest. He means well, but his constant reassurance has resulted in a few explosive arguments over these past two weeks.

Sometimes, I blame him. If he hadn’t forbidden me from leaving without permission, I never would have snuck out with Marie and hidden as well as I did.

Sometimes, I blame my father. If he hadn’t married me off, I never would have been in a position where I felt like I had to escape.

Then I blame Raffaele again because if he hadn’t killed Carlos, none of this ever would have happened. The blame cycles around in a loop before settling back where it belongs.

With me.

I made those choices. I ran away and invited Marie out with me. I chose the last club we went to. It was all me, and now my best friend is dead.

Those thoughts spin like a record in my mind, weaving through all the words of sympathy that flow from friends and family around me. The ground glistens with the constant rain, and I stare down at my shoes as I press my toes down into the softening mud.

Marie’s parents stand nearby, deep in conversation with Raffaele, which surprises me. When we arrived here a few hours ago, he was glued to my side and remained there throughout the entire ceremony. His presence was a comfort when my mind wasn’t venomously blaming him for her death. Marie’s parentschose to have her buried rather than cremated like I knew she’d prefer, and I didn’t have the heart to tell them how wrong their choices were.

They lost their daughter. I can’t tell them how to grieve.

Although, a small part of me is glad.

This way, I’ll have a headstone to visit when I want to see her again.

“Can I get you anything?” Caterina, my newest bodyguard, steps under my umbrella and flashes me a small, sympathetic smile. “A drink? A tissue?”

I shake my head, unable to speak for fear that the grief will pour out of me like vomit. Caterina runs her eyes over me and then nods, just once, before stepping back.

She’s been so kind to me since Raffaele gave her to me. She’s told me wild stories of other people she’s protected over the years, like princes in other countries and foreign diplomats. She joined Raffaele’s family a couple of years ago after her brother’s death. Raffaele helped her get revenge against the Russian who murdered him, and she’s been loyal to him ever since. Now, she’s loyal to me.

And it comforts me that she’s a woman.

It’s strange how my world shifted after the attack. I need medication to sleep. Sometimes, I can’t breathe when Raffaele isn’t with me, and other times, his presence disgusts me. He’s been calm about both those attitudes, allowing me to process in the ways I need.

Knowing that my kidnappers are dead brings me great comfort, but sometimes I lie awake at night wishing I could have watched them die so I’d know for certain that they will never find me again.

I still shower multiple times a day. It’s a habit I need to break since my sensitive skin is screaming at me, but all it takes isa single flash of memory and I need to scrub myself clean. It’s painful but it works.

For now.

Faces drift past me, offering their condolences for my loss, and then they move to Marie’s parents. Her mother hasn’t stopped crying. When we met in the church, she hugged me so tightly that I couldn’t breathe and told me how wonderful it was that Marie had someone like me in her life.

The guilt weighs heavily.

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