Page 50 of Where Dark Hearts Devour
I nod and look into his eyes, seeking some kind of softness, but I’m met with only flint.
“There’s some business I need to take care of.”
The door closes with a little too much force. The leather squeaks as I drop my head back against it and close my eyes, for the first timewillingthem to fill with Savero or Cristiano—anything but the memory of when I was last here, saying goodbye to Mama.
I can’t do this. Blind panic fills my throat, and I try to slow my breaths, my fingertips gripping the leather seat like I might levitate off it.
Pull yourself together, I scold.
The past isn’t important right now. The future is everything. Myfamilyis everything. I focus on my breathing, deliberately slowing my inhale, my exhale, until I feel almost normal. Gradually, the tightness in my chest eases enough that I can step out of the car.
Other mourners are walking my way, dressed from head to toe in black. I don’t recognize any of them. I’m an outsider at this funeral, unsympathetic to the plight of the deceased, no tears brimming in my eyes, only shock pulling at the corners.
I draw the net down over my face and walk in the same direction as the other mourners, toward the entrance to the church.
Out of nowhere, his presence warms my side, matching my racing heart step for step, his large hands shoved deep into his pockets, his expensive shoes making a soft click against the paving stones.
“The Cosa Nostra world suits you.”
With each step I take, my breath shakes a little more. “Well that’s a relief,” I say, remembering his lack of response to my assessment of what is now expected of me. “I’d say it suits anyone who can dress in black and keep a few secrets.”
“We’re back to keeping secrets, are we?” Cristiano says, a smile tugging at his lips.
I’m only half paying attention even though his arm grazes mine, challenging my determination to keep my distance. “Aren’t secrets the same as currency in this world?” I try to keep my tone light, but in all honesty, I’m struggling to place one foot in front of the other.
“True. But you’re not a part of this worldyet, so yours are of little value.”
I stop and stare at him, though the vision of him is faint and graduated. “You’re saying my secrets are worthless?”
“It depends who you’re asking,”
The same words he said to me in the library scratch at my patience.
I narrow my lids. “I’m askingyou.”
His eyes flash as if he’s just stumbled across a moment he’s been waiting his whole life for. He steps into my orbit despite the fact I’m spinning, untethered and so disoriented I feel slightly sick.
“Your secrets will only be worthless if you share them with the wrong person.”
A short gasp leaves my throat.
He can’t know.
I have only one secret, and it’shim. But he can’t know that. No one can.
The realization I’m in deep collides with the memory that I’m still rooted in so much loss.
I start walking again and somehow reach the steps, where I pause at the bottom. Cristiano takes two before realizing I’m no longer by his side. He turns and coasts his gaze over my frozen form.
“Come on—we should get inside. The ceremony’s about to start.”
“I-I can’t,” I stutter. I’m rigid with shock. My legs won’t move.
He’s at my side in a heartbeat. “What’s wrong?”
My brow feels clammy, and I raise a trembling hand to wipe it.
“You’re shaking. Are you feeling okay?”
