Page 50 of Sinner's Perdition

“Why are you blushing?”

I pin her with a serious glare. I can’t afford to analyze my feelings for Cato.

“I just want you to be happy.”

“And I will be happy once I am far away from here.”

My head throbs when someone knocks on my door. My mother comes inside, her voice yanking me from the last traces of sleep.

“Girls, you shouldn’t have stayed awake so late last night.”

We exchange a knowing look. Remembering Cato’s sensual touch, his skilled mouth doing all those heavenly things to me, frustration mixes with something I would rather die than admit.

Aurora looks at the wedding dress my mom hangs on the door. “It’s beautiful.”

“It should have been black, at least then it would have been truer.”

“Chiara . . . Now hurry, you two. Breakfast is ready.”

With elbows looped together, we go downstairs. At the table, my father has a pleased expression on his face and my sister looks at me intently. I tip my chin in an assuring nod. It’s as if I am eating sandpaper, and the conversations at the table are a blur. I will marry Cato. It’s happening. Nothing will stop this. He’ll make sure of it.

We are excused, and we go back to my room. I crash back on the bed, weary and dejected, needing more sleep, needing to stretch out my freedom a bit more, only for my mother and a team of professional torturers to step inside.

“Give me another hour, please.”

“Chiara.”

I drag myself up. I’ll probably end up falling asleep on him as we say our vows. That would serve him right.

Aurora offers me an aspirin, and I swallow it.

I must doze off and on because, every time I look up, I see myself different, makeup elegantly done in shades of purple, the gloss enhancing my lips, a blush offering my complexion a touch of rose. Hair done in an intricate updo, and now they are almost done with the mani-pedi. Behind me, my friend’s dreamy expression lights up her face as she texts. I am the one who is getting married, and there is nothing but misery for me. As if she feels my inner turmoil, Aurora offers me an encouraging smile and squeezes my hand.

“Let’s get me married.”

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, this dress and the piece of art they did on my hair and face shouldn’t have been wasted on someone who doesn’t even want all this.

“You look beautiful.” I turn to my side to see my mother and sister hug, tears brimming in their eyes. I bite my tongue to keep from screaming.

Aurora gives a small nod, her way of telling me she has my back. I can breathe, knowing someone here knows exactly how I feel. And that will help me survive this day.

My nonna comes in and hugs me, her frail hands cupping my face. “Be happy, my dear.”

When I stand up, Aurora approaches me and takes my hands in hers. “You look beautiful.”

But I have never felt worse.

“Don’t cause him problems. How he deals with you is not my concern. I hope at least he can teach you some manners.” My father sighs, stepping inside the room.

Despondency stretches between my ribs, the fight leaving me. The drive to the church happens too fast. No one will stop this marriage. Cato would never allow it.

Aurora arranges my veil; my sister goes behind me to fluff the end of the train. We step inside the church, flowers and candles decorating the gothic interior as hundreds of people watch me enter. A dramatic but melodious song reverberates through the old walls.

My heart stills when my father hooks his elbow around mine, something resembling approval flashing in his eyes, and I hate myself for feeling a sense of pride over it.

“You’re my heir. I haven’t always been easy on you, but there was never any other way. One day, you’ll understand.”

Yes, when hell freezes over.

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