"For a wedding I’m being blackmailed into?”
She sighs. There's something in her voice. Sympathy? Understanding? "Adrian told me you were..." she trails off. "Reluctant."
I laugh. "That's one word for it,"
I cover myself with my arms. I feel vulnerable across from this insanely beautiful woman, who looks like she walked off of the cover of a magazine. There is too much happening here, and I’m on edge. "How do I even know you are who you say you are?” I ask. “After all, someone is trying to kill me.”
Her brow raises, clearly not expecting that question.
"He didn't mention any siblings,” I say.
She doesn't blink. "No offense but was there really time for talking?”
My cheeks turn red, and I swallow the lunch in my throat.
“Look, I get your hesitance, but don't have my birth certificate on me. What I can tell you that Adrian has more security on this place than most Presidents possesses. There's no way I'd be able to get inside alive if he didn’t want me to.”
I hadn’t seen much of the penthouse, so I am going to have to take this woman’s word for it.
“Do you have a name?” I’m being petulant and rude, but I am exhausted and in pain, and I don’t have the energy to be nice.
She smiles and reaches out her hand. “Gemma Nero.”
“Seraphina Romano. You can call me Sera.”
We shake hands, and I feel slightly more at ease.
"Why are you here?" I ask, when she drops my hand. “Are you jailer number two.”
Gemma snorts. “Hardly,” she says. “I’m here to help you get ready.” She reaches behind her, pulling a garment bag she’d hung on the door. “I also thought you might want to talk to someone. Adrian didn’t say much, but he made it clear you weren’t totally happy with this.”
I want to tell her to leave. Want to scream that I don't need her help or her pity.
But I'm so tired. And so alone. And she's the first person who's looked at me with something other than possession or calculation since this nightmare started.
"Why are you being nice to me?" I ask quietly.
Gemma sets the garment bag on the bed carefully. "Because I know what it's like to be trapped in this family." She turns to face me. "And because you look terrified."
"I am terrified."
"Good. You should be." She says it matter-of-factly. Like it's obvious. "Adrian isn't the biggest problem, though. Mother is."
The words send ice through my veins. "What?"
"My mother. Bianca." Gemma moves to the windows, looking out at the city. "She's the one who orchestrated all of this. The formal wedding. The guest list. Everything." She shrugs. “And don’t be impressed by how quickly she did it either, she’s got too much money and power not to get what she wants.
I don't understand. Maybe, I have a concussion. "I thought we were going to a courthouse."
Gemma laughs. It's a brittle sound. "Is that what Adrian told you?"
"Yes."
She laughs. “Mother was never going to allow that.” She turns back to me. "There are going to be a thousand guests at the Nero mansion this afternoon. New York elite. Every important family. Every business connection." Her silver eyes are knowing. "Mother wants everyone to see Adrian get married. After all, he is her heir. A courthouse wedding would be inappropriate.”
A thousand people.
A thousand witnesses to my captivity.
