Page 59 of Bitter Poetry
I glance back into the banquet hall that looks like someone with the color coordination skills of a toddler threw up and catch Dante’s eyes on me. Which is when I remember something I saw earlier, and an idea comes to me.
“You’re up,”I mouth.
His brows pull together.
I grin and jerk my head toward the corridor. Frowning, he rises and approaches.
Game on.
CAMELA
I try to pull myself together after my dance with Christian.
He’s not the worst thing coming for me today. Even after Ettore pushed me to my knees and forced his cock into my mouth, I tried to tell myself it was normal, that I should have anticipated it, maybe even tried to show affection to the man I was about to marry.
Only, all I can see is Dante’s face and the fading bruises.
Someone was going to take a hammer to his hand. Ettore ordered it, according to Christian—the hand he put on me.
I press my cold hands to my hot cheeks.
Does Ettore know what we did?
He can’t possibly. This would be a thousand times worse if he did. I want to fling the necklace from me and never look at it again. But it’s too late now. I’m wearing it after making a big fuss about how my mother gave it to me and, worse, brought Jessica in on the lie.
I pace the small alcove, aware of the ticking clock, how I’m the bride and can’t be here for long.
Why did Christian say all those things?
Why did he have to be impossibly cruel?
DANTE
“What are you up to?”
My brother is leaning casually against the wall in the corridor, thumbing through his cell phone, but looks up briefly and points at the door opposite.
It’s a lady’s powder room with an out-of-order sign.
“I’m still none the wiser.”
“I already picked the lock. This place must have like ten powder rooms. No one will miss one.”
My heart skips a beat.
“Is she in there?” I ask more casually than I feel.
“Not yet,” he says cheerfully. “But I will sort that out shortly. Better if you head in first. Something tells me she will start screaming and pounding on the door if I lock her in there alone.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. “Are you fucking insane? You want me to go in the powder room, and, what, just wait for you to bring her to me?”
“Yep. Sounds good, yeah? I mean, you wanted her firsts. Can’t think of any other way for this one. Stroke of genius on my part coming up with this, even if I do say so myself.”
What possessed me to tell him that particular nugget? What have I unleashed?
“What if she doesn’t want to see me?” Only, I’m thinking about that fucking necklace,mynecklace, the one she is wearing for me, lying about for me.
Such a good girl for me.
