Romeo stroked his thumb over my skin, and shivers cascaded through my body at the intimate touch. He’d continued his farcical pursuit.
Which made no sense.
My neck prickled, and I tried to dismiss it, but I had always been a paranoid person. It seemed it was becoming more pronounced. Nobody would have guessed it was me who dispatched Lanton. I needed to let go.
“Thank you, Romeo.” I sniffled, thinking of my father, and conjured up a lone tear. Even that was a struggle.
Romeo reached out and stopped the slow path it carved down my cheek with his thumb. He banked the glistening drop with his finger and pressed his lips to my cheek. The affection startled me, and I froze. He pulled back, and his blue eyes searched mine, burning with a fever. Something I couldn’t interpret. I wrapped my free hand around the back of his neck, pulling his head down to whisper in his ear.
“Your mistress is free. I assume you’ll resume your past activities and leave me in peace?” I stroked the side of his face, feeling his jaw tighten. The tiny bristles of stubble sent shivers through me. Anyone looking would assume there was genuinelove and affection for each other. Our heads bowed toward each other, hands clinging.
“No, Anita. You’ll never have peace from me,” Romeo promised. His lips thinned. He settled back in the pew.
I was flummoxed into silence.
The priest droned on. The purple liver spots on his face looked like bruises, and he had a tick in his right eye. He might preach peace and salvation, but he would look the other way at anything the people in this church did.
I spotted a shock of platinum blonde I would recognize anywhere.
My mom. She’d bundled her hair off her neck, the beehive hairdo stiff. Sprayed to an inch of its life. How she looked so elegant with such a rotten soul, I would never know. I thanked god that I inherited nothing from her, except my nose. Everything else was my beloved father, including my vicious spirit.
My chest ached at the memory of him, and I shook my head. Tearing my burning gaze away from her.
“Of course, she’d turn up,” Paolo clicked his tongue, and we shared a look of disgust between us.
“She’s a vulture.” I agreed. She’d made no effort to contact me since she’d been in town, but appearances meant more to her than anything. She would seek me out today for the mere reason of optics. I hoped the crowd would rein in her usually acerbic comments.
Romeo tilted his head, catching the soft whispers. His thumb still grazed my skin.
Slowly, slowly, slowly.
The strokes made my stomach flip, a feeling that disconcerted me. He followed my line of sight, humming in the back of his throat. The interest that sparked in his eyes unsettled me.
The funeral was soon over, and we lined up to pay our respects to Merissa. She accepted Romeo’s stiff embrace, his lips barely touching her cheek. Her sniffles intensified as she threw her arms around my neck. I stumbled into her as she gasped in my ear. She squeezed me so hard my ribs ached.
“T-thank you,” she released me from her iron grip, wiping her eyes. Matteo Orazio was standing beside her, wide-eyed with surprise. His lips pursed with disapproval of the overt show of emotion.
Matteo Orazio had always stirred a healthy sense of fear inside of me. His dark hair and judgment reminded me so much of Romeo. He was an iron rod, and he wouldn’t hesitate to beat someone into compliance.
“For being such a wonderful friend,” Merissa added, shooting Matteo a tremulous smile. Her actions irritated me, because Romeo knew very well that we weren’t friends, and he might wonder why his mistress was embracing me. I chanced a look at him, but his steely face was stony.
“We are sorry for your loss.” Romeo bowed his head before pressing his hand to my lower back and guiding us away. I waited for him to say something, to pick apart the strange interaction, but he only moved us through the crowd to the front of the church.
I blinked in the bright sun, and I tipped my head to capture more of its cleansing rays. Tonight, The Lady of Death would bloom, and I had prepared in advance. But underneath my skin still itched in anticipation.
“Did you want to speak with your mom?” Romeo asked, interrupting my mental to-do list. I snapped my head toward him with a glare. He rocked back on his heels, hands clasped behind his back. So pristine in his tailored black suit. He was wearing the silver and onyx cufflinks I had bought for him when we were courting. Back when giddy little lies had hijacked mybrain. He noted my focus and turned his wrist to show them off, smug.
“If there is one thing you should know about me, Romeo, there is no one I despise more in this world than my mom,” I said.
“We might want to go then,” Romeo mused, looking over my shoulder. “Oh, too late.”
I spun on my heel, containing the roiling disgust.
My mom was as I remembered. Her clothes wore her, even at a funeral she couldn’t help donning her shiniest necklace. Her flawless make-up accentuated her fine features. She crowed in mock affection, gripping my wrists and smacking air kisses on either side of my face. Her hands were bony, nails making pink indents before she released me to assail Romeo.
“My darling,” she sighed, turning watery eyes on me. “What sad circumstances to see you again.” She huffed a sigh, her sizable cleavage teasing from her black dress. The soft skin smattered with freckles.
She’d had many suitors after my father went missing. She’d lived her life as though she was single, attempting to entertain them in our house. But that was another thing I’d ruined for her, if her endless rants were anything to go by.
