Page 9 of Where Dark Hearts Devour
She cocks her chin like she has no idea just how wonderful a sister she is for staying with me while I puked my guts up.
“I really appreciate you being here.”
Sera stands and strokes a hand through my hair. “Anytime, Tril. See you for dinner?”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Go back to bed,” she says with a smile. “You could probably use a bit more sleep.”
I nod and watch the bathroom door close as she leaves.
I’m barely on my feet when the door bursts open again. Sera reappears, her face flushed this time and her eyes wide.
“Trilby ... Papa wants to see you in his office. Now.”
My heartbeat sticks at the base of my throat. Papaneverwants to see me in his office.
“Did he say why?”
“No, but it sounds urgent. And serious.”
Oh crap.
A second hangover lowers itself onto me like a pregnant rain cloud. Did I do something bad last night? I drink to forget, but that means there’s always the chance I’ll do something regrettable.
“Do you want me to come with you?” she asks. “I could stand outside the door ... give you some moral support.”
I smile weakly. “No, it’s fine. But thanks for offering. What would I do without you?”
“Probably everything you do already,” she replies in her sweet voice. “There’s nothing you can’t handle on your own. You’ve got a thicker skin than any of us.”
That might have been true once upon a time, but not anymore. Now, I look twice before getting into a car. I’ve developed a genuine fear of the dark, and I have such badnightmares I can’t remember the last time I had a full night’s sleep. I only hope I can summon some measure of resilience, because I have a feeling my ability to pretend everything’s okay, that I can handle whatever life throws at me, is about to bite me in the backside.
Ten minutes and three coffees later, I’m sitting in my father’s office, the Advil hasn’t touched the sides, and my ass hasn’t just been bitten, it’s been one hundred percent annihilated, and I can’t breathe.
“I’mwhat?”
Papa doesn’t move a muscle, but a twitch escapes his right eye. “You’re getting married.”
I feel his words again like a punch to the sternum.
He averts his eyes to some papers on his desk. The sheet at the top of the pile bears a crest that looks unnervingly familiar. It’s a dove in flight amid a tongue of fire. The symbol of saintliness.
Of Saint.
Di Santo.
He sighs with a heaviness that betrays his true feelings. “I know you’re aware of some of my ... business partners, Trilby.”
I feel a tremble hardening my spine as I glance back at the crest. It’s an image we’ve been raised to fear.
My lids slowly lift back to my father. “Yes, Papa.”
Papa’s jaw ticks. “Savero Di Santo came to visit me yesterday. He doesn’t just want to continue the agreement I made with his father to ship occasional goods through the port—he wants to make things more official.”
I have to force myself to listen, because I don’t like the way this conversation is headed.
“In fact, he wants the majority share of the port.”
