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Like a dog with a bone, Mom returns to her original question. “Michael, do you know?”
I shake my head, making a motion over my lips like they’re sealed. Frustrated, Mom turns to her other son and repeats her question.
Twisting in my seat, I catch sight of my sister standing in the doorway and breathe a sigh of relief, only to frown a moment later when I notice her talking to Dimitri. What the hell? From their body language, it doesn’t look like an argument, but it also doesn’t look like what I expect to witness from two strangers. So how come it looks like Gabriella knows Dimitri pretty well?
Well enough to touch his arm…
What the fuck?
Dimitri looks down at her hand, and Gabriella withdraws it quickly, like she’s been burned. The Russian says something, bows his head, and turns on his heel. From this angle, I can’t see my sister’s expression, but she waits long enough to watch him disappear.
I struggle to read her expression as she approaches. As open as my sister is with her feelings, she can also be very guarded, and when she is, it’s like trying to read a foreign language in the dark.
Impossible.
Our sister is the perfect mini-me of Mom, right down to the way she laughs and the way she walks. The only difference, the only thing that proves Dante is her father, is her light amber eyes. A family trait we all share. Her dark hair flows in soft, bouncy waves over her shoulders, pinned back from her face with an elegant clip. She’s wearing a light blue dress with a pink floral design that falls in a skirt design, stopping just above her knees in the front and her ankles in the back. I glance around the church. Too many men and a few women are ogling my sister. Too many for comfort. She rarely goes unnoticed. A fact that Raphael and I constantly battle against.
“Hi, Dad, Uncle Leo.” Gabriella leans down and kisses Dad and our uncle on the cheek before doing the same to Mom. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hello, sweetheart.” Dad smiles at his daughter. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She quickly hugs Dominic and Raphael before settling down next to me.
“Was that Dimitri Volkov I saw you talking to?” I whisper in my sister’s ear.
“Yes,” Gabriella replies with no hesitation or regret. I don’t know why, but I expected her to lie.
Her honest answer rattles me. “What about?”
Gabriella huffs and settles her honey eyes on me. They flash in annoyance. A normal look I’m familiar with. “Does it matter?”
“Of course, it does.” How can she ask me something like that? “What could you possibly have to talk to Dimitri about? How do you even know the man?”
With a roll of her eyes, Gabriella sits back in her chair with a straight spine and squared shoulders. “If you must know, it was about school. He knows I attend the University of Miami and had a question about the admissions process.”
“He looked mad.” Not really but I’m fishing here.
“Really, Michael?” Gabriella snaps before leveling me with a heated look. “What is with the third degree here? He didn’t like what I had to say. That’s all.”
“Oh.” I feel a little ridiculous that I jumped immediately to a negative conclusion. I must still be on edge from the intense moment earlier in the room with Patrick and the others.
“Yeah,” Gabriella says, and I leave her alone.
The crowd quiets down as the wedding gets underway. It’s a beautiful ceremony, but I’m on edge the entire event. Like there’s a storm on the horizon, and I don’t know how to prepare for the destruction it will bring when it hits.
9
Rose
April
“Your son will be the death of me,” I groan as I collapse next to Michael on the outdoor couch.
Chuckling, he drapes his arm over my shoulders and tucks me into his side. I rest my head on his shoulder and watch our one-year-old son toddling around the backyard. His laughs are close to squeals of delight as he chases the bubbles Evelyn blows from a plastic wand. I tagged his godmother in when I became too winded to continue.
“I want another baby,” Michael confesses suddenly.
His honest admission surprises me, and I lift my head to stare up at his profile. “What?”
