Page 123 of Unraveled

It was usually Gian taking the pictures, teasing her while he did so, but constantly going back through the images whenever he got the chance. She had gotten more than one text from him with an image or short video clip of her that were nothing short of porn. She knew when he was doing it during their encounters, as he always told her, and she never minded enough to tell him not to.

A shot of her on her knees, with his cock in her mouth. A three second video clip of his cock filling her pussy full. Each one—new or old—was like a snapshot of memories for Cara that suddenly came back in a rushing wave. She was positive that was exactly Gian’s point in randomly sending the pictures or videos for her to see.

It turned her on like nothing else. It was filthy, like his mouth and everything else about him. He managed to make her body hot in a crowded room, and he could be across the fucking city while he was doing it.

No one knew a thing.

She did.

That was enough.

Cara sent off the image in a text before she could think better of it. And then, not wanting to sit and stare at her phone until she finally got a response, she forced herself out of bed and toward the attached bathroom.

Gian would answer.

Eventually.

Cara’s phone finally buzzed with an incoming text as she neared the dining room of the Trentini mansion. She nearly checked what the text said—likely a message from Gian, as no one else bothered to text her anymore—but stopped at the hushed, yet sharp, voices coming from within the dining room. Her brother, and his fiancée.

“Have you even asked her?” Abriella demanded.

A loud sigh followed right after. “No.”

“Why the hell—”

“Because why, Ella,” Tommas replied harshly, not even posing it as a question. “Why is it any of my goddamn business what she does, or with whom, for that matter? Why does that matter; why should it matter? It doesn’t. It never should have mattered to anybody but you and me, when it was us and our business, and it doesn’t matter with her and … whoever the fuck she chooses to run around with. She’s twenty-five, a grown ass woman. Look me in the face right now and tell me to put constraints on her, only because it might look bad on the rest of us. Is that what you want me to do, to be, like the rest of them?”

Cara knew right then and there that they were talking about her, and likely Gian, but she didn’t have the first clue as to why. She decided to stay where she was, and see what else she could learn before she made her presence known to the couple.

“I-I …” Abriella made a frustrated sound under her breath before spitting out, “You know that’s not what I mean! You’re always throwing that at me like that’s my default, Tommas. And you know it’s not.”

“It’s sounding that way, Ella.”

“It’s not,” Abriella stressed, “but does she know, Tommy? Does she understand what it means to be in the position she is? That’s all I wondered. And stupid me, I thought you would have—at the very least—asked her about it.”

“It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve seen my sister, and the last time was when I put her on a plane after she barely made it through a wedding she was supposed to be in with Lea. She was a mess, Ella. A complete mess. She’s okay right now. I don’t know if that’s because of him, or something else, but she is perfectly fine. I’m not going to upset that by poking around in her personal business.”

“But what if she doesn’t know, Tommas?”

“Know what?”

“About him,” Abriella said, exasperated. “I’ve said some stuff since she’s been here, just to see, you know, and it goes right over her head. It’s like she doesn’t know anything about him, in that regard.”

“She can’t not know.”

“Really, Tommy? Because it’s entirely possible, given what we know about her. She doesn’t take an active role in your aunt and uncle’s business, she stays out of sight of the family for good reason, and she’s never had any sort of interest in being in that spotlight. She has no real reason to know. I think she might not, and that’s why you should ask, even if it’s to … be sure.”

“Abriella.”

“It’s not for me or you, it’s for her. Don’t you get that? She could be jumping head first into a deep pile of shit and not even know that’s what it is, Tommas. That’s not fair to her. You ask, or I will.”

Tommas grumbled something under his breath that sounded a hell of a lot like, “You’re awfully pushy this morning. Aren’t you supposed to be picking out colors and fabrics for the wedding? Why are you bitching at me before ten? We should have an agreement about this sort of thing, Ella.”

“Stop trying to be cute.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”