Page 46 of Forbidden Sins

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my hands curling into fists at my sides.

And then I turn and flee the room.

—

When I wake up again,in my own bed, the morning sunlight is filtering through the curtains. I sit up slowly, my body protesting as I feel sore muscles flex from trying to roll Sebastian over lastnight—and everything that happened last night washes over me anew.

The garden. The kiss. My father catching us. The terror as I waited for the sound of Sebastian’s death. The sight of him, all but destroyed, lying on his bed downstairs.

The look on his face when he saw me at his bedside. The look on his face when he knew I had to leave.

I run my fingers through my hair, my chest aching hollowly. What happened last night can never happen again. I know that with an absolute certainty, and yet, now that I know how it felt to touch Sebastian, it feels impossible that it will never happen again.

I love him,I think with that same hollow ache, and I know that it doesn’t matter. Whether I love him and he loves me or not, if my father catches a whiff of betrayal again, he’ll take it out of Sebastian’s hide. He said as much last night. He won’t kill Sebastian, he’ll just hurt him, over and over, until we learn our lesson. And every time, it will be my fault, because if I sayno, Sebastian will always stop.

It’ll be me who pushes us over the edge, if this happens again. And I can’t let that happen.

A knock comes at the door, and I sit up a little straighter, eyeing the ball of my ruined evening gown. I jump out of bed right before the maid opens the door, grabbing it and shoving it behind my pillows. The last thing I need is for there to be gossip about me being in Sebastian’s room and cleaning him up, and for it to get back to my father.

“Your breakfast,” she says, bringing me a tray and setting it on the table next to the fireplace. “And your father says to remind you that you are to meet Mr. Bianchi at noon.”

Fuck. I press my fingers to my temples, feeling a headache starting to throb there. Probably not one that can get me out ofsailing on a yacht, though, especially not after last night. “Okay,” I manage. “Thanks. I wouldn’t miss it.”

I eye the breakfast tray after she leaves, knowing I’m not going to be able to eat a bite of the oatmeal, sausages, and scrambled eggs on the tray. My stomach is roiling, turning over and over every time I think of last night, and what I have to do today. I grab the dress from behind my pillows instead, burying it as deeply in my closet as I can before retreating to the shower.

All I can think about is Sebastian.Did he manage to get through the shower last night? Did he make it back to bed? Is he still asleep? Is he alive?I don’t think he could die from a beating like the one he got, but I can’t be sure, and my chest tightens with fear as I stand under the hot water, consumed with worry. But there’s nothing I can do to make sure. In the morning, in broad daylight, I can’t sneak into his room. I’ll get caught, and things will be worse than ever for him.

I get out of the shower, drying off and getting dressed in a yellow eyelet lace sundress with a modest sweetheart neckline and hemline that falls just below my knees, that seems appropriate for sailing, with a pair of sandals and a straw hat. Dread builds in the pit of my stomach as I get ready for the day, until it’s finally eleven-thirty and I head downstairs to meet whoever is going with me to this ‘date.’

Sebastian is nowhere to be seen, as expected. Brick is waiting for me with two other men, and I search his face for some sign that he knows what happened to Sebastian. But if he does, I can’t tell how he feels about it. I can’t read him at all.

It’s too beautiful of a day for what’s happening right now. The sky is gorgeously blue, only a few puffy clouds in the sky, and it’s hot enough that going out on the water would sound delightful—if I were going out with anyone but Vito.

I sit silently in the back of the car as I’m driven to the harbor, Brick in the passenger’s seat and just as quiet. I try not to thinkof Sebastian, but I can’t help wondering if he’s in pain, if he’s asleep or awake, if anyone has finally called a doctor for him. My chest aches as if someone has scooped out my heart and left it behind—I don’t even feel brokenhearted any longer. I just feel numb, as if my legs are carrying me forward through a sequence of events that I know I’m supposed to complete.

Vito is on the docks waiting for me, wearing khaki shorts and a short-sleeved Hawaiian print shirt unbuttoned low enough to show the thick gold chains resting against his darkly furred chest. It’s almost a caricature of an Italian mob boss—or underboss, in his case—and I’d be tempted to laugh if I didn’t feel so broken today. As it is, it’s all I can do to paste a pleasant smile onto my face and follow him, my security close behind.

I feel doubly obliged to go through with this now, and to make Vito think that I want to be here. If I don’t, I’m terrified that my father will take it out on Sebastian again—that any failing of mine will be taken out on him, now that my father knows he means something to me.

The yacht gleams like a pearl against the blue of the water, pristine and elegant, a blatant show of wealth that doesn’t impress me the way I think Vito expects it will. My sundress flutters around my legs as I follow Vito onto the deck, the salty sea breeze blowing a few tendrils of hair around my face as I reach up to make sure my straw hat doesn’t fly away. The sunlight beams off the polished metal and glass, making me squint as I try to keep my expression pleasant.

If this charade is what I have to perform in order to keep anything else from happening to Sebastian, then that’s what I’ll do. No matter what it costs me, or how hard it is.

“Miss Gallo, welcome to theArgomenti,” Vito announces, pride evident in his voice. He offers his arm to me, sending a wave of thick, citrusy cologne in my direction as he moves closer, and I swallow hard. I can’t imagine being married to this man,letting him touch me, spending days and nights in his company—and yet that might be the future that I have to resign myself to.

And I’ll never, never be able to show how I really feel about it. Not to anyone. A feeling of loneliness sweeps over me, and it’s hard to keep my lips turned up in the pleasant smile that I know this outing demands of me.

I no longer have the luxury of showing my true emotions. Not even to Sebastian, who will break eventually if he knows just how unhappy I am.

Vito takes me on a tour of the yacht, his arm first linked with mine and then with his hand pressed to the small of my back as we move through more confined spaces. The yacht itself is less impressive than the one Nico described to me, although I don’t say that. I consider that Nico might have been exaggerating, as Vito shows me the smoking room and private lounge, and galley, as well as the bedrooms. He pauses at the largest one, opening the door so I can see the room that we would theoretically be sharing in all its glory, and I swallow back the burn of bile in my throat.

The room itself is luxurious, as nice as any five-star hotel, but the thought of sharing a bed with Vito makes me want to throw up. I wonder idly how I’m going to get through my wedding night, if my father chooses him, if I can’t eventhinkabout a bed and him without wanting to vomit. It’s hard to think about anything else right now, other than him—my closest friend, my bodyguard, in a dark room with his face and body beaten to a pulp because of the stolen kisses I begged for.

A few stolen moments that I’ll both treasure and regret forever, because of what it did to him.

Will Vito punish Sebastian, too, if I make him angry? Is Sebastian going to be held hostage for my good behavior forever now?The thought makes me feel doubly sick, and I can’t hide it as we emerge back into the sunlight on the deck.

“Are you alright?” Vito asks, looking slightly disappointed, and I nod.

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