Page 16 of Tormented Diamonds
“Anton? But Gianni trusts him.”
“So did Marcello.”
Before I can respond, a petite woman with long black hair and dark eyes appears out of nowhere and links her arm around mine. “Oh my God, Becca,” she squeals, her voice pitched several octaves too high. “I’ve been looking all over for you!” But it’s not her tone that causes me to tense; it’s the onyx eyes as deep as the ocean and the beautiful, yet lethal smile she turns toward the woman watching us like she justsucked off a lemon. “I’ve been trying to steal time with the new Mrs. Marchesi all night. You don’t mind, right, Cat?”
What the actual fuck is happening right now?
I don’t find out because she drags me away to the other side of the church without waiting for an answer. Once we’re out of earshot, she removes her blood-red nails from my arm and winks. “You’re welcome.”
I step back. “Do I know you?”
Either she can’t read body language, or like everyone else in this place, doesn’t care, because she erases the space I just put between us. “I’m Serafina Barone.” There’s a hesitant pause before she adds, “SerafinaMarchesiBarone. I’m Gianni’s sister.”
My breath whooshes out of my lungs, every ounce of forced courage fading into shock.
Sister.
I didn’t know Gianni had a sister. Then again, I didn’t know his name was Gianni, either, so I’m not sure why I’m surprised. Now I know why she felt like a walking paradox.
I’m not sure what to say. I’m meeting my new sister-in-law at a memorial service for her father, who was murdered by her brother, who I literally just married.
It’s like a fucked-up mob version ofJerry Springer.
So, instead, I say the most asinine thing ever. “That was rude.”
She arches a dark eyebrow. “I’m sorry. Did youwantto talk to the woman my father tried to force your husband to marry?”
“Well, no.”
“Then, you’re welcome. Besides, I wouldn’t listen to anything Cathalina Damiano has to say,” she says, flicking those nails in a dismissive wave. “She’s still salty from having to wipe all that rejection off her.”
“Are you saying I shouldn’t trust her?”
Her sudden iron stare grabs me by thethroat. “You shouldn’t trustanyone, Becca.”
“Does that include you?”
She’s quiet for a moment, then her face brightens. “I like you. I see why my brother fell so hard and fast.”
“Thanks, but you still didn’t answer my question.”
Her smile fades. “I’d never betray Gianni. My father was an evil bastard who never valued women beyond their market price. You were his prisoner for two days, but I’ve been his pawn for thirty years. I’m alive only because of my brother. I trust him with my life, and if you value yours, you will, too.”
Without another word, she walks away, leaving me more confused than ever.
Ten minutes later, Anton ushers me outside in an uncomfortable cloud of silence. I notice the FBI surveillance sedan is gone, but I say nothing. My trust is on hold until I’m sure of where his loyalties lie.
The drive home is painfully awkward. All I can think about is what Cathalina and Serafina said, which sends my feeble attempt at small talk severely left of center.
“You’ve known Gianni for a long time, huh?”
Anton nods. “All his life.” My hesitation draws a sharp side eye. “What’s with all the questions? Are you writing a research paper?”
“No, it’s nothing. I mean, it’s something, but nothing important or dire or…” I take a deep breath and try to put a leash on my rambling. I could make up something, but why? Marchesi men seem to have the infuriatingly uncanny knack of seeing right through me, so fuck it. It’s not like I can put my life any more on the line. “I’ve always wondered what incited his obsession with fire.”
His body language changes immediately, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “That’s Gianni’s story to tell.”
“But—”
