Page 89 of Wicked

The young, distracted Italian studs were bold. Any bolder, and they could end up in shallow graves. They could even go in unmarked graves in our cemetery, never to be found again.

I’ve never had my blood boil, and I’ve never been jealous. I do not like it, not one fucking bit. Raven leaving me has done something to my energy.

“The dress looks better on her than me.”

I turn to my sister, and I try to calm down. “Ciao, Bianca.” I must have messed up, because Bianca looks back where Raven is, and she stares at me. “Something tells me you actually like this one!”

“Nonsense,” I say, not believing it myself.

“Is it?” Bianca watches me carefully, and I do not like the scrutiny as my eyes sweep the wedding guests.

“Is your boyfriend well?” I ask, wanting to change the subject fast.

“Perfect, it’s just a shame he travels so often.”

“Yes. Modern living,” I say, hoping and trusting he doesn’t have a mistress hiding somewhere.

“And no, he does not have a mistress. Cousin Vito still works in Rome with the government, as you know.”

I like her style. Intelligence is important around family, as is knowledge.

My sister then turns to me, and she watches me with those eyes again. “So, on a scale of one to ten, how deep are you?”

I act like she’s being ridiculous, but why not be honest? And if not now, with my sister, then with who and when?

“Five,” I grunt.

Bianca raises a brow. “There’s a but coming, correct?”

“Likely,” I say with a sigh. “I think I’m losing the battle and sliding further each day.”

“Yikes, that’s fast!” she says with a grin.

My sister knows I don’t fall in love.

Ever.

As we talk more, I see Raven reappear and head back over the small bridge. As she walks with grace across the lawn, heads turn again. I’m tempted to walk over and escort her back.

“Wow,” my sister mumbles, watching on. My jaw clenches hard, and I feel confused.

Raven has transformed into an angel and a catwalk-level model within a week. Bianca turns to me, and she raises a perfect brow. “You, dear, have no chance.”

I hate her honesty, and I do not like how I feel about Raven. I do not like the fact I cannot keep her from my mind. I have never been infatuated, or whatever this is.

All I know is, I can’t get rid of her, as in chase her away. The idea of losing her when I’ve just started to… whatever… will mess me up.

“Is she what the Americans call a ball breaker?”

“Si,” I say, watching her golden hips sway. “But in a good way. The best way.”

“And is sheseasoned in life? Has she been around?”

“That’s the strangest thing,” I say, “Raven is the most pure, gentle, uncomplicated, free, and balanced human I’ve ever met.”

I gulp and realize I may actually be falling. Panic tries to set in, but I inhale long and slow to silence it.

Screw it, I meant what I said… Each and every fucking word.

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