“I’ve never seen Papa so angry,” she whispers as if he might hear us and barge into the room.
I smile at her innocence, which causes my lip to bleed more freely and dribble down my chin. Elena has rarely seen father’s dark side. For some reason he spares her most of the time. I doubt she witnessed our brother’s evil either. She’s fortunate, and sometimes I envy her ignorant bliss.
But I have a terrible feeling that our entire family dynamic is about to change. I’ve seen hints of it since Matteo’s death. Papa isn’t in control of himself like he used to be. It’s only a matter of time before either Mama or I end up dead because of his dangerous temper.
I just pray that Elena is spared. She’s too sweet for the horrors of this world. And one of us has to make it out of here alive.
As soon as she leaves me to clean up, I send a text to Cian. I’d rather face him and his punishment than stay here a moment longer.
Ravenna:
I’m sorry. You have to let me explain why I did it. It wasn’t to hurt you. Please come get me, I want to go home.
CHAPTER 16
Ravenna
The next week passes in a blur as Elena tends to me, helping me to physically heal, and reminding me to eat. Depression has descended on me like an unexpected blizzard. I suppose it was that taste of freedom that makes being back here, under my father’s roof, so unbearable.
Or maybe it’s how Cian and I left things. That pained look in his eyes will haunt me forever.
He never answered my text message, so I can only assume he’s leaving me here forever. Washing his hands of me.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to feel like myself again while living at home,” I admit to Elena as we eat lunch together in the upstairs sitting room. Well, she eats, while I push my food around the plate. Not hungry.
“And I never want to leave the safety of home again,” she murmurs.
“What a pair we make.”
Elena’s quiet, contemplative. “I’m sorry for ruining your life, Ven. I should have stuck closer to everyone else, then none of this would have?—”
“It’s not your fault.” I reach over and cover her hand with mine. “None of this is your fault. Someone wanted to stop ourfamily from joining with the Irish—whether that person is one of theirs or one of ours I don’t know, but this is not our fault. We’re pawns in this game. Nothing more.”
“But they won, didn’t they? Isn’t that why he let me go?” She turns her palm up and squeezes my fingers.
“I’m not sure why he let you go. As to who won, well, we are technically allies with the Irish now. I don’t think a little thing like Cian dropping me on Papa’s doorstep is going to make him call off this truce. As long as Cian and I are legally married, this alliance stands. It’s only a matter of time before we find out if our families are truly joined or not.” My free hand drifts to my stomach.
Elena gasps. “Are you pregnant?”
“I don’t know yet. I should know in a couple more weeks.”
Cian and I certainly had sex enough times for pregnancy to be not only possible but probable. One part of me hopes that I am carrying his child, that he’ll be forced to take me back. Unless, of course, that’s not enough of a reason for him to do so. Then I’d be stuck raising our child under this roof and that horrifies me into hoping that I’m not pregnant. Who knows what Papa would do to my baby. It would give him power over me, and probably over Cian as well.
I push that potential future from my mind.
“You could always take a test,” Elena points out.
“I could. But I’m in no state to go out and get one, and you’re not leaving the house any time soon. I don’t want Mama to know yet. I can wait.”
“Good point. I hardly want to go downstairs these days. There have been a lot of people coming and going from Papa’s office this week, some of them I’m pretty sure are Irishmen. They look big and mean.”
My heart stumbles over itself. Has Cian been here? The thought of him passing through this place, going about hisbusiness as usual and ignoring me—it stings. Apparently I read way too much into our newlywed relationship. I thought we had a deeper connection, but it turned out to be just sex. I was nothing more to him than a warm place to wet his cock. Outside of that, I mean nothing to him.
This week has proven that. No calls or texts from him. He’s simply gone silent, all but vanished from my life like a passing storm.
If only I could forget him as easily as he’s forgotten me.
The fact that he has dismissed me so abruptly fills me with anger. The dangerous, explosive kind of rage. I don’t like being ignored. What would he do if he was forced to face me? Make good on his threat and put a bullet in my head?
