Page 47 of Twisted Union

My mom came huffing over to me. “Gemma! What are you doing? Acting this way at your father’s funeral.” She pulled me up. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Antonio was trying to kill a spider, and I tried stopping him. It’s his fault!”

The look she gave me scared me as she jabbed her finger right at my face. “Your brother has done nothing wrong. Look.” She pointed across the room. “He’s there. Nowhere near here. You’re the one who made a total mess of things.”

All I could do was stare at her as she huffed and walked away, going back to her other kids, whom she loved more.

“It wasn’t my fault,” I whispered, staring down at the food on the floor. Emilia started making her way toward me, compassion on her face, but I couldn’t take it, so I walked away. I ended up in the bathroom, where I bawled my eyes out. I didn’t stop until Emilia finally came to check on me and told me we were going back home.

* * *

Now,my tears subside as I lie next to Viktor. “You’re probably dying to say something,” I say, trying to make my voice light.

Viktor is silent a moment. “I’ve never had a woman cry after sex before. You either really hated it, and I need to step up my game, or I blew your mind with my awesome sex skills.”

I’m not sure if Viktor intended to make me laugh, but I do anyway. He pulls me closer, comforting me whether he knows it or not.

CHAPTER11

Viktor

Hearing Gemma cry does something strange to me.

It makes me feel the tiniest bit of guilt about taking her from her family. Just the tiniest bit, but it’s there.

I wrap my arms tighter around her, not quite understanding why I feel this way. I care for Gemma; that much I know. Frankly, I’m obsessed with her. But I’ve never felt love in my life. I wonder if this growing feeling inside me is just that—love.

Without any context for it, though, I’m not sure. Instead, I focus on how good it feels to have Gemma in my arms. We’re going to cause some chaos; I just know it. With Gemma at my side, I’ll become more powerful by forcing Franco and Marco to work with me. They’ll have to honor our marriage. It’s the way in our culture. But they’ll be so pissed, and I’m going to love every moment of it.

Gemma finally calms down and falls asleep. I’ve never seen her look more peaceful than at this moment. I stroke my finger down her cheek, marveling at how beautiful she is. She’s mine and mine only.

Some time later, I manage to fall asleep. I’m not much of a heavy sleeper. I’ve had to be on the edge most of my life, always looking over my shoulder, so I tend to keep my guard up twenty-four seven.

It’s all because my parents locked me up in a fucking mental institution.

I was twelve at the time and already exhibiting a lot of “inappropriate” behaviors, you could say. Like burning bugs with a magnifying glass. Or cutting off the heads of pigeons. Or presenting my parents with the head of our pet dog. That’s the one that got them.

I always hated Lucy, our German Shepherd. She’d bite me, and whenever I’d run to my parents about it, they’d just shrug and act like it wasn’t a big deal, even if I were bleeding. So, I killed her one day. And I gave my parents her head, and they mostdefinitelydid not like that.

Mom and Dad took one look at the decapitated dead of Lucy and told me to get in the car. I listened because, despite how it might not seem now, I was obedient when it came to my parents. When they told me to do something, I listened.

So, I got in the car. “Where are we going?” I asked. My parents exchanged a look before my mom turned around to look at me.

“We’re taking you somewhere that can help you.”

“Where?”

“Viktor.” She sighed. “Just … be quiet, ok? We’ll be there soon enough.”

I listened and stayed quiet all the way until we reached the hospital. I thought that was funny, seeing as I wasn’t sick. “What are we doing here?”

Mom helped me out of the car and grabbed my hand. I wanted to rip my hand away since holding hands with your mom as a twelve-year-old was justnotcool. But her grip was strong, and I couldn’t pull away. Dad stayed in the car, not even looking at me.

“Come on, Viktor.” Mom practically ran across the parking lot to get to the hospital, dragging me behind her. It was only once we were closer that I saw the words on the side of the building.

Psychiatric Hospital.

“What’s going on?”

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