His wide chest dropped as he exhaled a long breath. “If only you’d learned the lesson sooner.” Those intense green eyes raked my form.
I slumped on the settee, both hands gripping the edge in case the need to jump off and barricade myself behind the furniture arose.
“I suggest you get some sleep. You look like hell. I’ll have the maid bring you a bite to eat in an hour.” He charged out of the room and locked the door, the heavy click of the bolt an audible pronouncement of my captivity.
If he insisted on feeding me, at least he didn’t want me dead. I doubted in my current state I could stomach anything. My reflection greeted me in the vanity mirror. Eyes red-rimmed and puffy, lips pale, almost purplish… a corpse rather than a blushing bride.Get some sleep, he’d said. I shook my jittery fingers. Oh, I’d love to snap at him, tell him to bugger off, but my body agreed and released a yawn. I’d rest, not because he told me to, but because I needed a respite, needed a clear headto think about how I could get out of this mess unscathed. After changing into leggings, a blouse, and some socks, I sank beneath the sheets and snuggled into the mattress.
The same maid who delivered my dress yesterday woke me, telling me she had prepared my food. I blinked through the fogginess in my sight. So much for a clear head. The nap felt like the shortest in history. A steaming plate rested on the dresser table. I had no appetite, so I rolled over in bed and ignored the scent of baked chicken. Rest eluded me again, but I found no reason to leave the spot I lay in. The door creaked open, but this time, no maid entered.He entered.
He tsked at the untouched food on the dresser, no doubt stone cold by now. “You haven’t eaten.”
Considering today’s events, his bewilderment at my lack of appetite proved the maniac lacked a clue. He prowled to the bed, and his earlier remark evaporated the concept of food.
“Don’t forget, Gemma, tonight’s our wedding night. And I expect to see you in much less than some flimsy lace.”
Heart in my throat, I launched off the bed with a buzz I’d lacked seconds ago.
Enzo raised his hands in surrender. “Calm down,” his voice was soft and coaxing.
Calm down? Coming from the man who riled me the most.
His strong arms lowered by his sides, a strange calmness easing his face. “Don’t you want to discuss what you learned today?”
Marrying a Psychopath. Mum’s affair. What more was there to know?“I learned you’re using me to get back at my mother. You’re ruining my life… over a foolish mistake she made.” The words tumbled out, quick and uneven.
He rolled his sleeves… making himself comfortable? “Do you buy her excuse?A foolish mistake?If they’d shared one drunken night? Sure, maybe.”
“My motherdoesn’t drink,” I cut in, crossing my arms.
He narrowed his eyes. “Your motheralso fooled you into believing she lived like Mother Theresa. Truth is, this was no one-night stand. They were together forthree years. And let’s not forget all the gifts, the perks she received as my father’s mistress during their affair?”
I trusted my mother over these psychotic maniacs. “We left the church, leaving me no chance to ask for her side of the story.”
He stuffed a hand into his pocket. The glint of black metal peeked out—a gun. “Would talking to her change your mind?”
He didn’t reach for the gun. Instead, he retrieved his phone, punching in the numbers. He held it out. “It’s calling your mother.” His brow cocked, daring me to take the call. “Go on. Ask her whatever you want.”
Faint ringing echoed. Who knew the next time he’d grant me this opportunity? I grabbed the phone and raised the device to my ear. “Mum?”
“Gemma? Oh, thank God. Are you okay?” I pictured mum pacing a hole in the carpet and biting her nails as she often did when overcome with stress. “Your father and I are sick with worry.”
“I’m fine, I promise.”For now. I hoped Enzo vouched my claim, but his unreadable mask left me uneasy. “They’ve given me food.” Although I discarded said food.
“Is she hurt?” Papa’s shrill voice sounded in the background.
“She said she’s fine,” mum whispered, broken. “Oh, Gemma.” Her sobs pummeled the phone. “I’m so sorry.”
I turned my back on Enzo.Had the man never heard of privacy?“I want to hear your side of the story.”
A long sigh echoed on the other end. “I feel so ashamed.”
How long would he permit us to chat? I prayed she hurried before he reconsidered and snatched back his phone. “Mum, please. Tell me.”
A sniffle sounded on the other line. “Okay… I’d moved to Lombardy and got a job as Mr. Cammarata’s assistant. Our friendship started off so innocent, but before I knew it, our relationship spiraled into a full-blown affair.”
Sinking to the edge of the bed, phone clutched in my hand, I never could have imagined this confession from my mum—the same woman who’d drilled me on strong morals all my life and preached about saving myself for marriage. Unless this formed the reason? The consequences in her life shaped the way she cultivated her own child. “Oh, Mum, what on earth possessed you to do such a thing?”
“The guilt ate at me, but I ignored it, believing I was happy.Hewas happy. I convinced myself it was love… until I realized I was wrong. Eventually, I told Lorenzo to forget me, to be a husband and a father to his wife and sons, but he became obsessed. Gemma, believe me, I ended the affair. I quit my job and found a flat in Sicily, but he followed me there. He established a branch in the same area where I lived and refused to give up on us. He grew desperate, controlling, and would bang my apartment door at late hours of the night. I had to get a restraining order in the end.”
