Page 63 of Unholy Union
It hasn’t seemed like something important. It still wouldn’t be deemed important if I’m being entirely honest. But for some reason, as I stare at some of the posts and then glance over at a dozing Sabrina, it starts to feel that way.
…as if maybe I should at least spend some time learning a thing or two about the girl.
Skimming through the other profiles she follows, she seems to have an appreciation for the arts and literature. For all the artsy, romantic kinds of things I’d look at her and imagine she’d like.
The opposite of myself.
Yet, I’m still intrigued. I return her phone to the nightstand and take a final second to tuck a last curl from her face. ThenI’m walking out of the room, mulling over the idea of a potential night on the town.
Just the two of us.
Chapter 14
Sabrina
Me and the Devil - Soap&Skin
“Iswear to god, if you’ve been locked in a tower this whole time like some mafia Rapunzel, blink twice and I’ll call for backup. I know some people in the Bratva. Don’t ask how.” Tessa tackles me with a hug as soon as I open the front door to the Valente mansion.
She’s been allowed to visit today. Another courtesy from Cato.
Why, I’m not exactly sure, except maybe he feels guilty about the incident from the other day. He was much angrier and concerned about the fact I was hurt than I ever thought he would be.
It seemed to cross some sort of line in his eyes. The one that says nobody’s allowed to torture his arranged wife except for him.
I squeeze Tessa equally as tight, noting the new powdery perfume she’s wearing and how she’s gotten layers in her hair. It’s what we do as best friends—take inventory of each other,catch each other up on the latest things we’ve missed, no matter how minute or small.
But before I ever get the chance to mention her perfume or hair, she’s gasping at the bruises and scrapes I’m sporting.
“Sab, what the hell happened to you?!” She checks over either shoulder, then lowers her voice. “I’m not kidding about running away. We can make a break for it if they’re hurting you.”
“Tess, I’m fine. I’ll tell you everything. It’s…” I pause to draw a breath. “It’s a long story.”
We turn toward the wide staircase only to find Cassian coming down. In my time living under the Valente roof, I’ve learned to expect Cassian at any moment. He’s almost like a street cat in a way, coming and going as he pleases.
While he still returns to the main estate every few days, he spends a lot of time at his penthouse in Manhattan. He seems to prefer things that way.
I’m not sure I can blame him—I’ve noticed Don Valente’s exasperation the few times I’ve seen the father and his younger son in the same room.
He’s hardly been shy in choosing his favorite.
I’m sure their sister, Celeste, has realized the same, which is why she opted for college abroad.
“Well, well. I didn’t know the princess was entertaining guests. If it isn’t Tessa Lucchesi. You’re looking as loud and obnoxious as usual.”
Tessa rolls her eyes from beside me. “Aww, you remembered my name. I’m actually shocked. You usually forget women right after they fake it.”
“Bitterness is a bad look on you, Lucchesi,” he says cockily, both brows raised. “Let’s hope you get over it someday. Anyway, I’ve got places to be, ladies. I’ll see you around.”
I’m left speechless for a moment as Cassian strolls out the front door and we’re alone again. I turn for a glance at Tessa, eyeing her with thinly veiled suspicion.
“What wasthatabout?”
She shrugs. “How should I know? You’re married to his brother. Is it any surprise they’re both assholes? Which way’s your room?”
We head upstairs where there’s our only hope of privacy, escaping the Valente staff that hover everywhere else.
This time of day, the house is teeming with them.
