Page 35 of His Deadly Lies

Isabella crowds closer to me, about a step away from wrapping her arms and legs around my torso like a human straitjacket. “It’s all going to work itself out, Mimi. Trust me.”

“I like how easy you are with the fact that someone out there wants to kill me.”

She clucks her tongue. “I’m not easy with it. But I know you, and I know this family. It’s gonna be fine.”

My sister the optimist, ladies and gentlemen.

“We don’t actually know if it was an attempt on my life or not, so please do not go overboard with the drama,” I warn her.

No one is willing to tell me what’s happening with Rafel, either. Papa snapped his lips shut when I asked. Uncle Paolo only said, “he’s recovering,” and none of the guards are willing to make eye contact with me.

Where did they take Rafel?

Is he at Lakeside? And why all the secrecy?

“Mimi, it’s okay to be scared. It’s absolutely, one hundred percent okay if what happened scared you,” Isabella insists. She bumps her head against my shoulder and nuzzles me. “You can talk to me.”

“It probably should have scared me, but it didn’t,” I admit. “If anything, it made me more determined to figure out what’s really happening and who is behind it.”

It might be the trauma of my upbringing talking, but I love my life. Value my life.

There are certain things I’ve been given that I may not have had otherwise.

I also have the drive to grow the family legacy and take it further. My ability to be underestimated can topple kingdoms. And if someone is trying to come after us, then that’s what I intend to do.

I’ll be the eater of worlds if it ensures my family’s happiness.

“What about the other one?” Isabella asks.

“Hmm? What other one?”

“The man currently waiting outside your bedroom with his ear pressed to the wood, listening in on our every word.” Her voice drops to a stage whisper.

Even thinking about Carter has my stomach doing flip-flops. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” I toss the shirt aside and tug on the edges of my robe. “He’s an employee who will be with me until the wedding. You better get used to him.”

“He’s fine.” She’s still whispering. “I mean, for an old man. What do they call them? Silver foxes?”

I don’t want to link the description to Carter because it’s absolutely true. “He’s got the temperament of an angry badger,” I tell her.

And it was a struggle to get him to stay on the other side of the door today. He wanted to keep eyes on me at all times, not trusting me alone with my sister. I’d made a pithy remark and let the door close in his face.

He probably is listening right now. Isabella is right.

I shouldn’t care.

I don’t care.

A knock at the door sounds a second before Mom bursts in, carrying a fucking color wheel and swatches of fabric. I catch a brief glimpse of Carter standing there before the door swings closed. “Girls, I’m glad you’re both here,” Nicola begins. She doesn't even glance up from her colors. “I’ve come up with a scheme for the wedding. I thought you would want to see what I’ve got, get a feel for it. Not that I think you’ll find anything wrong with the plan.”

She lets out a peel of laughter.

Good to see she’s able to amuse herself.

The caramel highlights in her hair catch the light from the large windows and turn her more toward blond than her natural brunette. The better to keep the grays away, my dear, she always tells the three of us when we tease her that she’s got nothing but hair dye in her brain.

“Here, take a look.” The spikes of her house heels, as she calls them, sink into the carpet so that Nicola makes no sound as she crosses the room to us. “Let me know what you think, and be honest.”

Isabella rolls her eyes behind Mom’s back, but I beam at her. “Everything looks wonderful,” I reply. “I trust your judgment. You always know what’s best.”

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