She’s everything I’m not: poised, polished perfection. I feel suddenly lesser than in my cashmere sweater and slacks, with my hair mussed from reclining on the sofa, and not a stitch of make-up on.
She turns, her eyes landing on me, and immediately stops talking to the man beside Stefano. Her mouth opens in shock, and I have a surge of intense dislike for this woman.
Do I know her? Have we met before?
Her blue eyes narrow on me. “What thefuckare you doing here?”
“Excuse me?” My dislike for this woman spikes. Etta comes beside me, wringing her hands, but I remain focused on the other woman.
“Daddy, why is she here?” She whirls to the other man standing by Tommaso’s father. “Why is Gina here in Tommaso’s house?”
Okay, so this woman and I know each other. And I’m going out on a limb and guessing she isn’t one of the few friends I had.
Stefano is studying me with a hard, unreadable expression. Then his gaze flicks to Adolfo and Jerome, who look just as panicked and worried as Etta. When I look at the other man, his eyes are narrowed on me, just like his daughter’s.
“Why is Tommaso’s whore here, Stefano?” he demands.
I jerk like he slapped me.
He never wanted you. Not the way you thought and hoped. He was using you…wanting you to be his whore.
When I look back at the young woman, flashes of a memory break free out of the black abyss, and I see her in a gorgeous white dress with her arm linked with a man’s. It’s like a picturefrom a news article. When I try to focus on the man’s face, though, the memory blurs and fades.
“Who are you, young lady?” Stefano’s voice isn’t cold or harsh, but it’s not friendly, either.
“She’s Gina Caruso,” the young woman sneers. “Anobody.”
I tremble slightly and fight the urge to run.
“Franco Caruso’s daughter?” Stefano asks, shocked, his stoic mask falling.
“She’s missing.” The other man looks between Stefano and me. “What the hell is she doing here?” he demands of Stefano, then looks back at me with that narrowed gaze that makes me feel like I’m shrinking to be the nobody the woman accused me of being. “Why is Tommaso hiding her here—a nobody slut—when he’s supposed to be getting ready to marry my daughter?”
All the saliva vanishes in my mouth, and I swallow multiple times, trying to wet my burning throat. “What?” I force out.
Tommaso, getting ready to marryher? There has to be some mistake. I can never imagine him agreeing to marry a woman like her. Yes, she’s beautiful, but she oozes narcissistic, vain bitchiness.
Plus, he’s married tome.
And why did this man say I was missing?
“Let’s wait until Tommaso—”
“Silence,” Stefano barks at Jerome without looking away from me. “Gina, why are you in my son’s home?”
“I…” I wet my lips. “It’s my home as well.”
The woman laughs, a wicked glint in her eye. “Oh, that’s rich.”
“Rosa,” her father snaps, and she glares at me.
“You mean, Tommaso is letting you stay here,” Stefano says. “But why is he keeping you hidden? People are looking for you.”
I start to shake harder, and I have to lock my knees to stop them from buckling. “I don’t know what you mean…” I shakemy head. “I’m not missing. I’ve been with Tommaso the whole time.”
“Fucking him like a good whore, I see.” The look the other man is giving me makes my skin crawl, and he nods. “After he and Rosa, I wouldn’t fault him for keeping you around.”
“What?” I choke.
