Page 51 of Forbidden Sins

I spent the time while Estella was making herself presentable going over security details with Brick, who took one look at me and clearly had to work hard to hide the shock on his face. He had to have known I’d gotten in trouble somehow, although the three guys who Antony had work me over wouldn’t have dared breathe a word about it or why. Similarly, Brick said nothing, just explained the details of the additional security as if I weren’tstanding there looking like I’d gone twenty rounds in a ring with Mike Tyson.

The short of it is that the mansion will be crawling with security for the next few weeks, since Vito will be bringing his own men with him as well. It means there will be very little chance for Estella and me to get any time alone, and while I know deep down that’s for the best, it still makes me ache from the inside out. I’ll have to make sure there’s no sign of impropriety, that I’m nothing but her bodyguard in every conceivable way. It’s what needs to happen anyway, but it feels like a fucking death sentence.

Every moment after that kiss has felt like death, if I’m being honest.

All of the major members of the staff are lined up to welcome Mr. Bianchi, from Brick and me to the housekeeper, the head cook, and a handful of other staff members, including the personal valet that will be assigned to him while he’s here. Antony Gallo stands at the front of the mansion, Estella at his side in a gorgeous black silk dress that dips down between her breasts and strokes her legs in the wind that’s picked up. I know she chose the black on purpose.

She’s in mourning all over again. Not only for her brother now, but for her own life. For the possibility of what might have been, if she had been born some other woman.

And if she had, I reflect as I watch the gleaming car pull through the gates and roll up the driveway toward us, we would never have met at all.

The irony of it is fucking painful.

I keep my expression carefully smooth, a mask of detachment worn on my face like armor as Vito steps out of the car, wearing a tan linen suit and a broad smile. “Antony!” He greets the don like an old friend, exchanging an air kiss on either cheek like the old dons of Sicily before clapping the other manon the back. Antony returns the gesture, a pleased expression on his face as he turns slightly to present Estella. She looks pale as a marble sculpture, nearly as white as the stone of the mansion behind her, but she plasters a smile on her lips, holding out her hand to Vito. He raises it to his mouth, pressing his lips against the back of her hand, and rage burns through me like a wildfire.

“My beautiful daughter,” Antony says with pride. “Soon to be your beautiful wife. Welcome to my home, Vito. We will all do our best to make you feel welcome here.”

“I’m glad to be here. And grateful to enjoy your hospitality while I look for the residence that my wife and I will share, after our wedding.”

Estella’s smile is drawn tight across her face. “We wouldn’t want to rush things,” she says sweetly. “I’m looking forward to these weeks of getting to know you, Vito.” There’s an emphasis onweeks, as she says it. “After all, to be a good wife, I have to know you. I don’t want to do anything prematurely.”

“We wouldn’t want that at all!” Vito agrees, laughing, as he throws a wink at Antony. “But I admit, I’m eager to move things along. After all, there’s no question in my mind that wewillbe married,bella.”

The sound of the endearment makes bile burn in the pit of my stomach. I force myself to stay still, detaching my thoughts, my emotions, from my body. I can’t show anger or emotion. I know Antony is watching me.

“Of course,” Estella murmurs demurely. “I think dinner is about to be served, Vito. We should head inside.”

“Excellent. I’m starving. I’ve been looking forward to dining at your table again, Antony.”

The staff breaks off, Vito’s new valet going to help with his luggage as Brick goes to discuss matters with Vito’s head of security, the other household staff scattering back to their duties. I follow, knowing I’m required as part of the securityat dinner. I don’t usually stand guard for meals, since it’s only ever Estella and Antony, unless it’s an event like this one. There was no way that Antony would have let me off of this particular dinner detail.

I hang back, but for the briefest of moments, as Vito takes Estella’s arm to escort her to dinner, I catch her eye. And I see there, beneath layers of practiced poise and careful, vigilant calm, a hint of despair that makes me want to go to her, to scoop her up in my arms and take her out of this place, to bring this whole fucking mansion down in our wake around these men who would hurt her.

I want to destroy anything that would hurt her, and I’m powerless to do so right now. It truly is the deepest circle of hell, the worst punishment that Antony could have inflicted on me.

All I can do is watch, following as Estella is led to dinner by the man who will, very soon, own her.

I feel numb all through dinner. It’s an elaborate affair, course after course of soups and salads, appetizers and mains, and sides that would ordinarily make my stomach rumble from the smell alone. The cook will have a plate for me later, but I can’t fathom eating a bite right now. All I can do is watch as Vito carries on business conversations with Antony, with Estella at his side, barely sparing a glance for her as he does. It’s clear from the beginning that he has no care for her as a person, and this ‘courtship’ is only to mollify Estella—to make her feel as if her father cares for her in some small way, still.

He has her, already, in nearly every way that will matter to him.

“Speaking of the future of our family,” Vito continues, finally looking in Estella’s direction. She’s picking at a piece of lamb on her plate, cutting it into smaller and smaller bits without ever really taking a bite of it. “I’d like to have a private conversation with your daughter after dinner, if that’s possible, Antony.”He looks back at Estella’s father, and my gut churns with apprehension.

“Of course.” Antony smiles. “The purpose of your stay here is for the two of you to get to know each other better, Vito. Maybe a walk in the gardens? Her bodyguard can accompany the two of you, for safety.”

I see Estella swallow hard at the mention of the gardens. “Of course,” she manages, setting down her silverware just a little too hard. “The jasmine flowers are lovely, right now. And the roses.” Her voice dips a little as she says it, and I can see her struggling to keep her gaze on her plate, and not look at me. To not let me see what she’s remembering right now—the scent of crushed roses in the air, and her mouth against mine.

Vito smiles, and I catch the hint of lasciviousness in it. “I was thinking a place for a more…intimate conversation. A private sitting room, maybe?”

Antony’s jaw tenses, and I’m startlingly relieved to see that he’s not going to allow his daughter’s virtue to be compromised so easily, not even for this alliance. “I think a supervised walk in the gardens would be more appropriate at this point,” he says tersely.

Vito inclines his head, though I see the flash of annoyance in his eyes. “Of course,” he concedes, and I catch a glimmer of relief on Estella’s face too, though it’s short-lived. “The gardens, then. I’ve heard about the beauty of your landscaping, Antony. It’s often the topic of conversation after the parties you throw. And there have been quite a few of them lately, hasn’t there?”

“Well, things will be quieter now that I’ve found a match for Estella.” Antony smiles, but I can feel the thin thread of tension shimmering through the air around the table. I can see Vito sizing Antony up, two wolves at the same dinner table, and Estella caught between them. Antony, the patriarch, and Vito, who will be his heir, but without any of the love and loyalty thatAntony’s son had for him. I’d almost pity Antony the position he’s in right now, bringing another ambitious, dangerous man under his roof, if I didn’t hate the man so fucking much.

I watch Estella, seeing that she abandons her dinner entirely after that, pushing her food around her plate without ever really eating. She dips her spoon into the custard and berries that are served for dessert, but never actually takes a bite. And Vito never notices. When he looks at her, it’s perfunctory, his gaze sweeping over her mouth or her breasts, never actuallyseeingher. Never noticing that his bride-to-be has barely tasted her dinner, that she’s clearly miserable.

Is it that only I can see it, or that only I care enough to notice it?I wonder, as the plates are cleared and Vito rises, holding out a hand to Estella.

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