“The home office,” Dante says.
With that, the eldest Bellanti shuts the office door behind me and Armani with a cold finality that has me chilled to the bone.
I don’t know what Armani and his brothers were meeting about just now, but it had to be about the Bratva—I heard the name Orloff loud and clear from the hallway. I also heard Karina implicating me. And although I’d gone in search of Armani specifically to talk to him, I hadn’t actually decided what, or how much, I would reveal. The only thing I was sure of was the fact that Juliana’s betrayal had burned down a wall, and now my secrets were going to come tumbling out.
This will be a good thing, I try to convince myself as I walk with Armani down the gravel path between the Bellanti Vineyards offices and the main house. I’m sick and tired of playing both sides.
Once we step inside the house, we make our way down the hall to the large downstairs office. Armani guides me to the couch, saying, “Sit right there. And stay.”
I feel like a dog being given such commands, but all I do is nod. Armani grabs a bottle of water from the minifridge and hands it to me before he leaves me there alone. The second the door clicks shut, the edge of panic I’ve been feeling explodes into a full-blown anxiety attack.
Mentally, I will myself to stay calm, but it’s impossible. Something huge is about to shift in my life. I drink a few sips of the water, sorely regretting the amount of alcohol I consumed last night. I’m doing a lot better after my bath, but my stomach is in knots and I still have a lingering headache.
The office door opens, and I expect to see Armani, but instead it’s Marco and Dante followed by Karina and Frankie, who is holding baby Lili. No one looks at me as they shuffle around, grabbing desk chairs and side chairs and finding seats anywhere except the couch. They circle up around me, like lions corralling a zebra they’re about to rip to shreds.
Just then, Armani reappears with a mug of hot tea. He sets it on the side table next to me, giving me the slightest nod before he drags a chair front and center and sits. He’s directly across the circle from me. The perfect place for an interrogator to do his dirty work.
But this time is different. I have nothing to hide. Not anymore.
His expression softens, as if he’s encouraging me and reassuring me.Tell the truth and nothing bad will happen, his face seems to say. He clasps his hands together. A beat of silence falls. Even the baby is silent. I look over at the tea.
“Eyes on me. Do not look away,” he barks. “Tea is for after.”
I do as he says and am acutely aware that his command has caused everyone to stare at me, too. I might as well be tied to a stake with a pyre at my feet.
“Orloff.”
Armani drops the name coldly, already knowing it means something to me.
Keeping my gaze steady on his, I say, “Is the name of the man my best friend is going to marry.”
“What else do you know about him?”
“Nothing. She told me the marriage is a business arrangement. A green card thing. He’s Russian.”
He doesn’t blink. His face, impassive. “How well do you know this woman?”
“Like I said, Juliana is my best friend. From college. I know her well.” My throat suddenly goes dry and I take another sip of water and add, “Or, I thought I did.”
“This is the best friend you never mentioned to me until your brunch the other day.”
“Yes.”
He pauses and my pulse picks up. I can’t tell if he’s trying to make me even more nervous, or if he’s actually puzzling over the whole situation in his mind.
“Why is that?” he asks.
“Because I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping her a secret. Now I’m not so sure.”
One dark brow raises. “What changed?”
Everything,I think. Absolutely everything.
Regardless, even though I’m unhappy with Juliana right now, there’s no way I’m going to throw her under the bus. For all I know, she might even be desperate for a way out of this wedding arrangement but knows she can’t shirk her familial duty—or risk the wrath and punishment of her uncle Sergio. Her happy chatter about wedding planning and the ring and the dresses could just be a front. She’s clearly an expert at hiding things from me, which probably includes her feelings. What if she needs my help?
Acutely aware of everyone in the room, I’m careful to focus on Armani so I don’t lose my nerve.
“Maybe I should start at the beginning—”
