I nodded, squeezing his hand. “What do we do now?”
“If you wanted another dance, it’ll have to wait.” He tucked me into his side, one hand on my hip, and even though I had so much to be anxious about, I couldn’t help but notice how we fit together.
The truth, like he’d said. My body fit perfectly next to his.
“Rosalia,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, not looking at me. He wanted me to pay attention to what was going on.
I followed his eyes.
Two men, who were dressed in plain suits, and four policemen stood on the edge of the ballroom, talking to Big Bismo. They were making more of a scene than we had just by being inside of these doors.
In one way, the heat was off of us for a minute.
In another, I had no idea what they were doing here.
It wasn’t like law enforcement never made it behind the gates, but they were usually playing two sides of the game. Club D paid a hefty amount of money, or had deals with officials for other things, to keep the law out, unless they had something to do with the organization itself.
My heart sank when Big Bismo nodded to us, and the two men in plain suits and the police started to make their way toward us. Just as the crowd had parted for us, they did the same for the six men.
“Rosalia Lombardozzi?” one of the men dressed in a plain suit said, showing me his badge. A detective.
He introduced himself and then his partner, who stared at Aniello, nothing showing on his face. His voice droned on, losing my attention, until he said—
“Wait.” I lifted one hand. “Repeat that.”
“Priscilla Ragusa,” he said. “She was killed. We’d like a word—”
I couldn’t hear over the ringing in my ears. Or was it the music? I could see his mouth moving, but no words were coming out. My eyes. My eyes were burning.
It felt like the entire place was watching as something inside of me broke.
These women. The ones who were always so horrible to me.
They wanted to see me break. To see me cry. To watch as one of the most important people in my life was ripped away from me.
Maybe they considered this payback. The dress I wore suddenly felt like it was wet, drenched in blood, but soaked with my own tears.
I looked up at Aniello, who was staring at me.
Did his mouth move?
Did he tell me to run?
I wasn’t sure.
But I did.
My hands were already squeezing the fabric of my dress, and right after I lifted the hem, I bolted.
Tears I had no control over rushed down my face, running as fast as I was. But I refused to cry out, to release the sob that felt like it was stuck in my heart. This place, this entire place, didn’t deserve to know that she was gone. That a piece of my heart was gone. It felt like she would forever be a part of the secrets the walls held if I didn’t get out.
Cilla…
“No,” I cried as I dodged two people who let me pass but stepped behind me to block the police, who were running after me.
Outside, I ran toward the gardens, not sure where else to go. I stopped right outside of the sad girl’s garden, though, when a bunch of different voices, most of them shouting, met me. Either the police were yelling to one another or something else was going on.
It didn’t take long for two different situations to find me.
