When She Loves: Chapter 4

Bloody water runs down the white ceramic sink in the bathroom attached to my office. I didn’t think Joshua would hold out as long as he did. He’s a civilian, not used to violence, but greed is a powerful motivator for weak men like him. I scrub my forearms clean, dry my hands on a towel, and go to sit at my desk.

My work stares back at me. The boring kind, anyway. A bunch of documents need my signature, so I get started on them. Might as well make a dent in the bit of time I have left before I’m due to collect my fiancée.

I’m two signatures in when the door opens, and Elena enters with Fabi close behind her. Their dresses swish around them, and their heels click-clack against the hardwood floor.

That’s the end of my productivity.

I haven’t seen my sisters in a while. Elena’s dyed her hair blond, which is throwing me off. Fabi looks the same, with her dark, wavy hair loose around her shoulders. They both look tired. They must have just gotten in from the airport.

Fabi shuts the door behind her and gives me a gentle smile.

Elena scowls.

My sisters are fraternal twins, but their characters couldn’t be any more different.

I put the cap back on my pen just as Elena stops in front of my desk, her arms crossed over her chest. “I can’t believe this. What the hell, Rafe?”

“Is that how you greet your don?”

Elena narrows her eyes. “You’ve been our brother far longer than you’ve been our don. We have a right to be angry at you. You switch the girl you’re going to marry days before your wedding, and you don’t think to even call to bring us up to speed?”

“When was the last time you called me, Elena? I barely hear from you when you’re abroad.” You’d think my sisters would be a bit more grateful about the fact that I’ve allowed them to live in Geneva even after they graduated from college, but there’s nothing remotely grateful in Elena’s expression.

Her cheeks redden. “I’ve sent you texts.”

“And I’ve responded.”

“Your one-word answers to my questions hardly clarified anything. How did this happen? Rumors are that the other Garzolo girl fell pregnant with another man’s child.”

I twist the pen between my fingers. “And for once, the rumors are accurate.”

“And you decided to take her sister instead?” Fabi asks, her brows moving up her forehead.

“A debt is owed to me, and I’m collecting on it.”

Elena scoffs. “How simple. So you’re forcing this poor girl into marriage?”

“I’m not forcing her into anything,” I say, annoyed that she would assume that of me. “For someone who just admitted to having no knowledge of the situation, you’re making a lot of assumptions. Cleo offered to take her sister’s place, and I accepted.”

Elena’s narrowed gaze drills into me. “Is it true what they say about her?”

“What do they say about her?”

“She’s troubled. She’s a nightmare to be around. She lost her virginity to an outsider.”

“Her virginity is intact,” I say evenly. “Send anyone who says otherwise my way.”

My sisters exchange a look. “We heard you killed some guy that was after her,” Fabi says after a moment. “Is that true? In front of everyone at your club?”

That I did. Ludovico Rizzo, the last made guy Garzolo tried to set up Cleo with.

Nero’s words come back to me. I’ve seen how she gets under your skin.

Bullshit. I just had to enforce a certain level of civilized behavior at one of my establishments.

I shrug. “He deserved it.”

Fabi swallows. “How come?”

“He came to my club and acted like a baboon. It was an important night, and I thought I’d send a message.”

“What message?” Elena demands.

Do not fucking touch what’s mine.

It’s what I said to Ludovico right before I killed him, although Cleo was far from mine when I saw the bastard trying to force himself on her.

But in the moment, that didn’t matter.

I wanted him to die.

A prickling sensation appears at my nape, and I run a finger under my collar.

I must have drunk too much that night to snap like that. That would explain why I lost control for a brief moment.

Long enough to murder someone.

But it all worked out just fine, didn’t it? It served to remind everyone about my reputation, and that never hurts.

“To not behave in my club the way one would in a cheap whorehouse,” I say.

Fabi sighs and smooths her hands over her dress. “Should we talk to her before you’re wed? Offer words of encouragement?”

“You mean offer our condolences?” Elena snipes.

“No.” I don’t want Cleo talking to anyone but me and Sabina, the house manager who’s been with the family for decades. She’s seen it all, and she’s loyal. I know nothing Cleo says will ruffle her. Until there’s a wedding band on Cleo’s finger, I’m not taking any chances.

Elena shakes her head. “Have you even had a conversation with your future wife?”

“A few.” None of which have gone too well, but I’ve replayed each one of them in my head more times than I care to admit.

Fabi tucks a strand behind her ear. “Do you like her?”

Yeah, I like her. I like her full pink lips, and her green almond-shaped eyes, and the way she looks at me when she’s angry. I like her sweet ass and her round, plump tits.

I know I’ll definitely like having them in my mouth.

It’s like I said to Nero, Cleo is a bombshell. It’s been a while since I wanted to fuck someone as badly as I want to fuck my future wife. But I’m not about to say that to my sisters.

“This is a business arrangement. Cleo is as good as any other woman as far as I’m concerned.”

Fabi’s face falls. “Rafe…she’s going to be tied to you for life.”

She says it with pity, and if I had to guess, it’s not me she’s pitying.

There’s a light knock on the door, one I immediately recognize as our mother’s. “Come in,” I call out.

Mamma shuffles in, dressed in a light-blue outfit, and when she notices Fabi and Elena, her steps falter. “Am I interrupting anything?” she asks softly.

I spin my pen again. “Not at all.”

She meets my gaze, but as usual, she only holds it for a second before she looks away. It used to bother me how after all these years, she still can’t look at me. It’s like she sees the shadow of my father inside my eyes. But I’ve made peace with it.

“Maybe you can help us talk some sense into him,” Elena snaps.

“Regarding what?”

“This parody of a wedding! Mamma, do you really think this is a good idea?” Elena implores. “Rafe changes the woman he’s marrying days before the ceremony, and we’re all acting like it’s no big deal?”

I groan. “Trust me, no one is acting like it’s no big deal.” Since I made the announcement, my phone has been ringing nonstop with calls from the family. I swear, I forgot some of these relatives even existed. Aunt Eliza went as far as to show up here in person, all to say I’m bringing shame to the entire family by marrying someone with a reputation like Cleo’s. Uncle Philip had to drag her away when he saw the look in my eyes.

“It does seem a bit rushed,” Fabi says, trying to be more diplomatic than Elena. “Why not wait a bit?”

“The wedding has already been planned,” I say. “Caterers scheduled, church and venue booked.”

“So what?” Elena demands. “It’s not like anyone would argue about the extra work they’d have to do if you wanted to reschedule.”

“I delivered on my part of the deal with Cleo’s father, and now it’s time he delivers on his. After what happened with Gemma, I’m not taking any more chances. I want this squared away as quickly as possible.”

I also feel an incessant need to see my ring on Cleo’s finger, but I’m not going to waste a second trying to figure out why that is.

Elena scoffs. “Deliver this, deliver that. She’s not a FedEx package, Rafe. She’s a human being. I get we’re all about arranged marriages around here, but to force her to marry you on two days’ notice? It’s ridiculous!”

My anger spikes. “I already said I am not forcing her into this. How many times do I have to repeat myself for you to get it?”

Elena grits her teeth.

“Mamma?” Fabi asks. “You haven’t said anything. What do you think?”

Mamma wraps her arms around herself. She doesn’t like being put on the spot. “I think you should trust your brother’s judgment. He is our don, and he knows what he’s doing.”

Elena groans, her cheeks turning a deep red. “You always take his side. I don’t understand why you never question him. Aren’t you at all concerned about this?”

Mamma shoots me a pleading look, asking me to save her from answering.

I clench my jaw and turn to my sisters. “I suggest the two of you save your concern for all those starving kids you’ve been trying to save by working at the UN. They appreciate your bleeding hearts far more than I do.”

Hurt flashes in Fabi’s eyes, and for a moment, there’s a vague tightening inside my chest, an echo of a feeling I used to experience before I taught myself to feel very little.

Elena comes to her rescue, the way she always does. “Charming,” she bites out. “I can see that you already can’t wait to send us back to Geneva.”

I don’t refute that statement, even though my sisters are dear to me. They’re my flesh and blood. I protect them and I care for them, but we’re not close like some siblings are. I’ve always sensed their resentment, especially Elena’s. We all know one day I’ll have to summon them back home and make them marry. And when that happens, they’ll have to leave the life they’ve built in Geneva behind.

I straighten out my jacket and round the desk. “I’m leaving. My fiancée is waiting for me.” There’s no need for me to entertain any more of this female disapproval, especially when everything’s already been set in motion.

Tomorrow, Cleo Garzolo will become Cleo Messero, and there abso-fucking-lutely nothing anyone can do about it.