Page 67 of Savage Proposal

“Not that I’m aware of,” I said. “My family is Catholic, in theory, but I haven’t been in a church since I was a kid, and any of the churches that I attended weren’t his.”

“How odd,” Amalia said. “He looked at you like he’d seen you somewhere before.”

“Maybe he knows Gemma. We look a little alike.” I had no idea if my sister was a practicing Catholic anymore, but I made a note to ask.

“Maybe.” We carried the dishes to the dining room and put them on the table. “Dig in, everybody,” she said.

Dishes were passed around, and everyone loaded their plates. I picked up my fork, but then I felt a sharp kick from across the way. I looked up, and Amalia shook her head and flicked her eyes in the direction of Father David, who was sitting beside Lorenzo at the head of the table. I put my fork back down and put my hands in my lap.

Father David stood. “Let’s bow our heads,” he said, and he started to pray over us. As he spoke, every hair on my body stood on end. Cold washed over me, and suddenly, I couldn’t feel my fingers or my toes.

I knew that voice. I had heard this prayer before.

I was suddenly back on a cold tile floor, pinned by men pressing their full weight into my arms and legs with their knees. My limbs ached with remembered pain. The scars on my torso burned as if I were being carved open again. I was shocked when my clothes weren’t wet with blood.

My lungs stopped working. There was nothing I could do to pull in air, and I pushed back my chair, nearly dragging the tablecloth with me.

“Isabella?” I could hear Lorenzo’s voice, but he sounded so far away, like he was calling to me from the end of a long tunnel.

My eyes were on Father David, and there were so many words that wouldn’t come out. Screams were trapped in my throat. Black spots danced across my vision.I’m going to pass out, I thought. That couldn’t be good for the baby.

“Dolcezza?”

Lorenzo was closer now, but I couldn’t see him anymore. Panic was going to boil me alive. My arms swept out, reaching, and someone caught me, but that someone became a man putting his weight on my back, praying and apologizing as he sliced into me.

“Help.” My voice came out as a squeezed whisper.

And then the world went dark, and I wasn’t afraid of anything anymore.

CHAPTER 41

Lorenzo

Isabella went limp in my arms. I maneuvered her to hold her around her shoulders and under her knees, picking her up in a bridal carry. I carried her into the living room and set her down on a couch; Amalia was hot on my heels.

“Should I call an ambulance?”

I shook my head. Isabella was breathing fine; she had hyperventilated and passed out. “She’s okay.” I brushed the hair out of her face. “She had a panic attack.” I had witnessed enough of Isabella’s nightmares, and gently coaxed her out of them, to recognize when she was deeply afraid.

“Maybe she was overwhelmed?” Amalia suggested. “She hasn’t met many people since she’s been here.”

I shook my head. “That’s not it.” As far as I was aware, Isabella hadn’t shared much about her attack, if anything, with Amalia, and I had only shared with Damian so that I could get information about who attacked her. But her reaction to Father David was crystal clear to me. “Stay with her,” I said.

I wanted answers. Now.

I walked back to the dining room, rolling my neck. I was slipping into that quiet, cold place in my mind where I could be as violent as I needed to be. No one had moved from their places at the table, but they weren’t eating, just waiting for news. “Is she all right?” Elio asked.

“She’ll be fine,” I said, eyes on Father David. “How do you know her?”

Father David blinked, and I watched his face twist into something akin to innocence. “I don’t,” he said. “I’ve never seen her before now.”

Fucking bullshit. “I saw the way she looked at you. She was terrified.”

Sweat dotted his forehead. “Maybe I reminded her of someone,” he said, but I could hear the tremor in his voice, and by the way Cristian looked at him, so could my younger brother.

“Father?” Cristian asked. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he insisted. “I had nothing to do with what happened to that woman.”

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