She chews on her lip before answering. “Yes, I think so. She’s always been loyal to our family, but she wouldn’t betray me. I have to hope that hasn’t changed.”
I turn to Ras. “It’s our best bet at getting more information. Can we get a burner into her hands?”
“I can see what contacts we have in New Y-”
“Contacts can be bought,” Valentina interrupts. “I don’t want to risk pulling my sister into this only for Papà to get word of it before we talk to her.”
Ras considers her for a moment and then looks at me. “I can go.”
Sending my right-hand man to do the job will ensure it’ll get done properly, even if it feels like overkill for what should be a fairly simple task. But Vale’s visible relief at hearing his offer makes me acquiesce. “Take the fastest route, I want you back in forty-eight hours.”
“What does your sister do outside the house?” Ras asks, pulling out his phone to start making the arrangements. “Is there a place she goes where her security detail gives her space?”
“Yes. Her pilates studio. She’s there four days a week.” Vale hobbles up and finds a pen and paper on my desk. “I’ll write down the address and her private class schedule. Because it’s just her, the instructor, and the receptionist, the guards stay in the car. If you can find a way in, you should be able to get her alone in the changing room.”
Ras takes the paper from her and shakes his head. “New York. I hate that goddamn city.”
I slap his back. “It’s a short trip. Try to appreciate the sights.”
And if Gemma has what we need, it might be the first of many times we pay the Garzolos a visit.
VALENTINA
Damiano tries to help me walk back upstairs to his room, but I tell him I’m fine and leave him alone with Ras. They’ve got logistics to work out, and I’ve got some thinking to do now that there’s a real chance I’ll be talking to my sister sometime in the next two days.
There’s a weird combination of longing and nerves tangling inside my stomach. Of course, I’ll be thrilled to hear Gemma’s voice. But how will she react to hearing from me after so many weeks of being missing? For all I know, she thinks I’m dead.
She might also think I’m a traitor.
I shut the door to Damiano’s bedroom and press my back against it. Will I have to tell her the truth about my marriage for her to forgive me for running away? I’ve spent so long trying to shield her from the horror of my life that everything inside of me rebels at the idea. But she won’t betray Papà’s secrets unless I explain everything to her. I have to convince her I’m not being coerced. Otherwise, she may well run to Papà and tell him I’m alive as soon as we hang up. She might even think she’s doing me a favor.
It isn’t fair of me to keep her in the dark. She’s going to be engaged soon, if she hasn’t been in the time I’ve been gone, and if she knows what happened to me, she might fight harder against an ill-chosen match. If I was there, I could fight on her behalf. I could make sure she wasn’t given to a monster.
There’s an urge to run back down to Damiano’s office and demand Ras take me with him, but it’s a fantasy. Even if I return to New York-the thought makes me shiver-there’s nothing I can do for my sister when I’m labeled a pariah. I’ll probably be barred from seeing my siblings and be placed under house arrest.
No, it’s time to just admit that when it comes to my duty as an older sister, I majorly fucked up. Add that to the list of many. There’s nothing I can do besides tell Gemma the truth and beg for her help.
Sinking down into a chair, I turn to the window and see my reflection. Damiano called me a survivor.
Yeah, I guess I am. Unlike Lazaro’s victims, I’m still alive, but at what cost?
It would be easy to stay. To accept Damiano’s protection and wait to see if he’s able to take back his throne. I could be his kept woman. I could share his bed until he grows bored of me, which he inevitably would. Afterward, he’d probably set me up someplace. It would be a comfortable life.
And one where I’d spend my days wallowing in guilt and regret.
My stomach dips.
I’m far too early on my long road to redemption to take the easy path.
A knock on the door snaps me out of my thoughts.
“Yes?” I call out tentatively.
“It’s Mari.”
I rise from my seat. “Come in.”
Damiano’s sister enters the room with a few shopping bags in tow. “I thought I’d get you some things your size,” she says, handing them to me.
Damiano’s guys must have managed to clean all evidence of what happened with Nelo earlier, otherwise I doubt Martina would look so unbothered.
“Thank you,” I say as I accept the bags and peek inside. “Wow, Mari. This is a lot. You really didn’t have to.”
“I did if I want my clothes back,” she retorts with a teasing grin.
“Ah, right.”
“I’m just kidding,” she says. “I don’t mind sharing with you, but I thought it might be weird for my brother to see you in my clothes.” She glances around. “Especially now that you’ve…moved in here.”
I laugh awkwardly. Is there a playbook on how to talk to the sister of your ex-captor about the fact that you’re sleeping with him?
No?
Better change the topic.
“I never thanked you for the pool day,” I say.
Mari climbs onto the bed and folds her legs under her. “Don’t worry, I know Dem didn’t really give you a chance. I had a fun time.” She looks like she wants to say more but hesitates.
“What?” I ask.
She averts her eyes as I pull off my T-shirt and tug a new one on. “That man that came with him…”
I’m not surprised he stayed on her mind. “Giorgio, right?”
Martina’s cheeks tinge pink. “Do you think he’s…”
I venture a guess, “Handsome?”
“No. I mean, of course he is,” she says in a rush. “But that’s not my question. Do you think he’s a bad person?”
Alarm bells go off inside my head. “Why would you ask that? Did he do something?”
Her eyes widen. “He didn’t. It was just something he said. You know what? Forget it.”
“What did he say?” I press. Giorgio appears to be Damiano’s friend, but I’m not about to put blind faith into a friendship I know nothing about. If he overstepped with Martina, I need to know so that I can tell Damiano to pick his friends more carefully.
Martina picks up one of my new shirts and starts examining the label. “My brother said he and I met, and I felt awkward because I couldn’t remember it. I told Giorgio I wasn’t sure how he slipped my mind. He didn’t say anything at first. I thought he was offended, but then he said it’s for the best I didn’t remember him. He said he isn’t someone girls like me should know. What did he mean by that?”