Page 10 of Bellini Bound
Gemma wagged a finger in my face. “Don’t try to deflect.”
“I’m not. Just curious about the circumstances that led to my impending unclehood, since I didn’t think you wanted kids. In fact, if memory serves, you were outright opposed to the whole idea of personally contributing to the Bellini bloodline.”
A rumble that could have easily passed for a growl sounded from her chest. “One, this baby won’t be a Bellini. It’ll be a Gusev, so you can get it out of your head right now that there’s even the slightest chance that my child will play a part in this fucked-up empire. And two, I don’t want kids.” Her gaze shifted to a spot across the room, softening when it landed on her husband, who had dropped to a knee, speaking softly with our cousin’sfour-year-old daughter. “Well, I didn’t,” she corrected. “Until he showed me what unconditional love looked like.” Gemma sniffled, fanning her face as she blinked rapidly. “Sorry, this is all still so new, and I’m trying to wrap my head around it.”
I found myself at a loss for words.
Who was this woman, and what had she done with my sister? Sure, there were still flashes of her signature sass, but there was a vulnerability emanating from her I’d never witnessed. And shenevercried. Not even when our father used to beat the shit out of her in her most defiant moments.
Stunned, I managed to pull her into my arms, rubbing her back soothingly. Against the top of her head, I asked, “You okay?”
“No, I’m pregnant.” Her reply was muffled against my shirt.
A chuckle broke free from my chest. “Yeah, I can’t do much to help with that. But is there anything I can do that’ll make you feel better in this moment?”
Lifting her head, Gemma stared up at me. “How about you tell me who this wedding is a punishment for.”
As if on cue, Commissioner Logan took a seat beside his wife in the front pew of the bride’s side, and I jerked my chin in that direction.
My sister twisted her neck around to catch a covert peek, and her mouth dropped open before she spun around to me with an expression of pure shock written across her face. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“Wish I were,” I grumbled.
She shoved at my shoulder, whisper-shouting, “You can’t marry the police commissioner’s daughter!”
“And yet somehow, I am.”
“Enzo, there has to be another way. Whatever you have on him—”
“He’s the reason Allegra’s dead.”
Gemma sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh my God.”
I ducked my head. “Yeah. Any more questions?”
“Uh, just one.” She swallowed roughly. “Why is he still breathing? Isn’t it usually a life for a life?”
Gritting my teeth against my annoyance at Matteo, I explained, “He was given a choice. His life or his daughter’s in exchange for Allegra’s.”
When she pieced it together, my sister’s eyes grew wide. “He’s seriously sacrificing his daughter? What kind of father does—” Her words cut off, and she shook her head. “You know what? I know exactly what kind. Forget I asked.”
Yeah, our dad wasn’t exactly Father of the Year.
“Trying to win top prize for the most fucked-up marriage in this family?” Gemma asked.
I snorted. “Don’t worry. Gio’s going out of his way to hold onto that title.”
Shaking her head, she sighed. “I don’t even want to know.”
“You really don’t.” If the circumstances surrounding my wedding were stressing her out, she’d blow her top if she heard that our other cousin was off somewhere chasing his wife down with plans to impregnate her, most likely against her will, because she’d run off without giving him an heir.
A hand came down on my shoulder. “You ready to get this show on the road?” Matteo’s voice said from beside me.
“No,” I replied like a sullen teenager.
“Too bad. It’s happening.” His eyes slid to Gemma. “Summer saved you a seat.”
Her lips pulled into a sad smile. “Guess that’s my cue. Good luck, Enzo.”
