“Tell me, Gemma.” Franco’s expression softened with concern. “How are you finding Sicily? Has Enzo made you feel at home?”
I tamped down the automatic urge to bristle. “It’s… an adjustment.” I chose my words with care, adding a soft smile for good measure.
He nodded, thoughtful, his gaze searching mine. “Forced marriages rarely go smoothly.”
He knew? I stilled.
The calm expression he wore so well remained in place. “It’s okay. We might be a large family, but this is a small town.”
“Then you understand this is no love match?” I swallowed, wondering if my being open would warrant repercussions.
He blinked, shaking his head. “Revenge… it takes its toll on everyone involved.” He leaned closer to my ear, his breath warm against my cheek. “My wife mentioned you haven’t spoken to your mother. She’s behind us, waiting outside for you to use her phone.”
I peered around his broad shoulder. Sofia stood at a back exit, half hidden behind the marquee curtain and waving me over. No wonder Franco had called me onto the dance floor. He and his wife lured me away from the table on purpose. Oh, thank God. Finally, some decent human beings in this mess.
When I’d last asked to contact my friends or mother, Enzo refused. He and Carina made any contact with the outside world impossible. If I called my mother at least, reassured her I was fine, she’d stop stressing. This might be my one chance. “Take me to Sofia.”
Franco’s smile tightened, and he gazed beyond my head toward our table. “It’s now or never, Gemma.” He claimed my hand and led me off the dance floor.
I risked a look over my shoulder, sighing softly. Enzo remained oblivious. His back faced us as he spoke to an elderly woman at another table. I’d keep the call quick with him none the wiser.
Franco steered me through the marquee’s back entry, his grip tight on my arm. The music faded, replaced by the rustleof leaves and the distant murmur of voices. A dim-lit garden path snaked between flowered shrubs. Water trickled beneath a wooden bridge, headed for a pond hidden deeper in the estate. Climber vines clung to one tall wall, their diamond pattern casting eerie shadows.
We were alone.Too alone.
Then Sofia stepped out from a shadowed corner. My shoulders dropped in instant relief, but the sensation was short-lived.
“Inside.” Franco addressed his wife, his tone curt as he gestured toward the opening.
Head bowed, Sofia obeyed like an obedient dog, disappearing through the same exit we’d stepped out of.
The faster I got this over with, the faster I could go back inside. “Where’s Sofia going? Is she grabbing her phone?”
His hands clamped my upper arms, backing me into the vine-covered wall. The thorns immediately found purchase, snagging on the delicate satin of my dress. Franco’s large body loomed, a dark silhouette against the distant lights of the marquee. His presence blocked my escape, his strong, pine scent filled my nostrils, stealing the air from my lungs. A wolf’s grin stretched across his face, predatory and knowing.
A flicker of unease turned into a jolt of alarm. “What are you doing?” My voice hitched, barely audible over the thumping of my heart. I shoved hard against his chest, but my palms were slick with sweat, offering little resistance. “I’m Enzo’s wife.” My heart drummed in my ears, a frantic rhythm of fear. “Your cousin’s wife!” I used the words like a shield, desperately trying to deflect the heat of his gaze.Did family loyalty mean nothing to him?
He leaned closer, gripped my chin, his thumb digging into my jaw. The pressure was small, but the intent was clear: control. “You’re nothing more than a pawn in my aunt’s game for revenge. I’ll show you what it means to mess with a Calafiore.”His breath rasped against my ear and a chill snaked down my spine.
His hands were on me. The slow, deliberate caress down my arms felt like a brand, unwanted and permanent. The air around me thickened, heavy and suffocating. I shoved against his chest, my palms finding purchase for only a second before sliding off his shirt. “Get off!” Everything blurred as his face pressed closer. The scent of stale wine and something acrid, like sweat, filled my nostrils.
How could Sofia just leave me here? Had they both planned this? A wave of nausea rose, bitter in my throat, choking me. “Stop! Stop!” I twisted violently, trying to wrench my arms free, kicking backward, my heel connecting sharply with his shin but barely slowing him. Panic lent me strength, but each frantic movement only scraped my back and arms raw against the thorns, trapping me further. My hands clawed at his forearms, fingernails digging for purchase, desperate to push him away. He merely grunted, his grip tightening like iron. A soft click sliced through the whooshing sound of struggling, the sound of his belt buckle releasing. My struggles intensified, fueled by primal fear.
“Stop fighting,” he grumbled.
Then came pain. Sharp, piercing pain in my neck as teeth sank hard enough to draw blood. I cried out, a strangled gasp, arching against the thorns in a fresh wave of agony and terror. My breath remained trapped inside my chest, a silent scream building. Black spots danced at the edge of my vision as the world tilted.
The pressure vanished. Cold air dousing his suffocating heat. Had he listened to my cries and backed off? I blinked through the blur of tears. No, someone wrenched him off me. “Enzo?” I whispered, so low he hadn’t heard. Or maybe he wasn’t listening since he had one fist tight around Franco’s dinner jacket whiledelivering blow after blow to the man’s nose. A crunch sounded. Blood sprayed.
Enzo didn’t relent. He swung back, his fist slick with crimson, sending droplets splattering onto my dress. The blood, the brutality, didn’t faze him. He was so calm, so controlled, even as he unleashed his untamed violence. It wasn’t just anger; it was something colder, something… predatory. He was a whirlwind of fury, and for the first time, I wondered if I was truly safe with him.
Throat clogged from misery, I stumbled into the wall; the vines scratching at my back. Franco no longer cornered me, but the burning sting against my throat remained, a phantom brand. I wished the bushes swallowed me whole and let me escape the dirty tingle crawling up my body.
A cluster of horrified faces appeared at the edge of the marquee, and my mother-in-law’s sharp gaze locked onto mine before she turned to the brawl with a grim expression. My heartbeat grew sluggish and a wave of dizziness threatened to knock me to my knees.
Several men grabbed Enzo, wresting him away from his cousin. No different from a caged animal, he fought against them, taking another swing at Franco. “Is this how you welcome us, Tommaso?” Enzo howled at his uncle. “Your filthy son attacked my wife!”
“There must be some misunderstanding.” Carina waved for the small crowd to disperse, her voice sharp.
