Page 86 of Twisted Embrace

Her question reminded me that I’d yet to hear from Misha. It was just another red flag as far as I was concerned. “Not yet. My contact must be extremely careful in how he obtains information.”

“I won’t find any sense of closure until I know.”

I brushed hair from her face, running the tip of my finger down her arm. “One way or the other, she will be found.”

She remained quiet as I finished getting ready and before I left the room, she gazed me a longing yet mournful look.

I would take her worry in stride, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew her visions were correct.

Today, there would be a bloodbath.

* * *

Joy

“You look incredible,” Lucia said as she moved behind me. The three-way mirror and bright LED lights captured every detail of the ornate gown, although for me, the yards of taffeta and lace were overwhelming.

I twisted back and forth, studying my frame in the reflective surface. “Too much fluff.” I fingered the single item I had left that I owned from my previous life, the locket something my mother had sent me for my last birthday. I’d worn it to the baby shower for the first time, the lovely piece of jewelry perfect for the dress. I didn’t know why I was thinking of it now, other than everything was totally out of my control.

She laughed, adjusting the massive train of material. “I think it’s regal. The necklace is perfect.”

“The necklace is but the dress is so not me.”

“Well, maybe not. But you can’t wear jeans.”

“You are so mean,” I told her, smiling as I glanced in the mirror. “I’ll fall on my face with a train this long.”

“So find a dress that suits you. This is your wedding. You need to decide what’s best for you.”

“No protocol that must be followed?”

She rolled her eyes. “What century are you in?”

“I think that’s the question I should ask you.”

Giving me her infamous stern look, she pointed her finger at me. “Fine. Touché. But I’m serious. Find exactly the dress that makes you happy. Oh, and make certain it’s one of the most expensive dresses in the entire store. After all, Enzo did give you his credit card.”

“Hmmm… You’re right.” The butterflies I’d felt earlier hadn’t left, but only partially because of the sexy as hell moment spent in the shower. I was nervous. Enzo and D’Artagnan had left for the airport almost an hour before we’d ventured out of the house. They should be there by now, which meant he should have called me like he’d promised.

“Stop worrying about him,” Lucia chastised.

“I wasn’t.”

“Liar. He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself and always has. Go try on another one.”

As I thought about her suggestion, I wasn’t entirely certain any of the dresses in the quaint shop would suit me. “I don’t know.”

“Hai un aspetto spettacolare,” the older lady said as she clapped her hands. Her eyes were sparkling, as if I was a princess. She’d been so helpful, keeping every other customer out of her store so I could take time in making my selection.

“She said you look spectacular, and I agree,” Lucia translated. She slowly returned to the waiting chair, easing down and patting her stomach. She’d fully recovered, although I was surprised D’Artagnan had allowed her to leave the safety of the estate.

I threw a look over my shoulder out the window. Both Anthony and Federico remained at their posts, two other soldiers roaming the street and alley behind the small shop in search of assassins. The feeling of being inside a huge cage remained. So did the concern about Enzo, the quickly scheduled trip driving a stake into my mind. He’d seemed so certain that the traitor had been found.

I wasn’t so certain, but I had nothing to compare the situation to nor did I understand but so much about their methods of doing business. Not that I wanted to. Or maybe I did. I couldn’t ignore the fact everything about his life interested me.

“I think I’ll try on the less formal dress.” I backed down from the platform, immediately reaching for my glass of champagne. Our arrival had been planned, the owner of the lovely store preparing a feast including an expensive bottle of bubbly.

“I’ll be glad when I can indulge in alcohol again,” Lucia said wistfully.

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