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SASHA
Ren: Time to stop pouting and get over it, snowflake. Bet that hotel bed wasn’t the same as being in my bed, beneath me.
Lorenzo sent that text three hours ago. It’s one of many that’s come through from him in the last twenty-four hours. I finally threw him a bone twenty minutes later.
Me: Bite me, bitch!
I had a good, solid-minute laugh with that one. I swear, he and his sister are the same. It’s easy to get under their skin with minimal effort. But then the fucker didn’t respond, and that irked me. I sent another.
Me: Maybe that bed got the job done better than you. Ever consider that?
He still didn’t reply. The asshole blew up my phone every other hour and now he’s silent. I’m not falling for his bullshit. He’s going to have to work harder than that.
Me: Did you know they made dildos that thrust? I didn’t either until I found your replacement.
Me: It was nice knowing you. I’ve got my needs covered now. See ya!
That last message was sent an hour ago, and he’s yet to reply. I’m pissed now. The motherfucker is doing this shit on purpose. He knew I’d cave. Probably knows my pussy is broken too. Only works for his stupid ass. It’s not my fault his dick is its crack. That’s the very reason I can’t allow him to know that shit. That’s information he would use against me.
“What the hell did you bring me to?” Sienna’s annoyance rips me away from staring at a text conversation that seems to be one sided. She sidles up against me, her arm colliding with mine as she forces the stool I’m sitting on to rock as she blows out a dramatic breath, coating the side of my face with her hot air.
“I should have bought you breath mints as a wedding present.” I shut my phone off and then place it on the island countertop I’m sitting in front of. After arguing the whole ride to Martina’s house, I ditched Sienna once we were inside. I’ve been in the kitchen ever since.
“You need to fake being sick to get us out of here,” she says, forcing me to finally turn my head toward her. Her face is so screwed up she looks like she’s about to go into a full-blown allergy attack.
“Why fake anything? Tell the bitch her party sucks.”
“It doesn’t suck.” She shakes her head. “It’s just weird, and awkward, and I’d rather leave before I say or do something to make Matteo’s mom hate me even more.”
“In that case, stop breathing. She’ll be your BFF by the time your body is cold.” One side of my lips turns up. “So will I, for that matter.”
“I’m serious.” Her hand wraps around my forearm and if it weren’t for the acrylic making her nails blunt, they’d be drawing blood. “Go to the bathroom and throw up, but make sure it’s loud enough to be heard. You’re good at putting on a show. This should be a piece of cake for you. Tell them it’s a bout of nasty morning sickness and we need to go.”
“It’s nine p.m.,” I deadpan.
“Oh, no. That shit comes up at any given time of the day or night. A dumbass just named it morning sickness because it was probably a man that came up with it in the first place.”
“How would you know that?” I quip, suddenly all ears.
“You think you were the first to get preggo in this family, bitch? Think again.” Her eyes cut behind me and then she leans closer, her voice becoming a whisper. “But if you let that slip to anyone or on social media, I’ll break more than your damn pinkie finger.”
“Well, I wouldn’t know. Guess I’m immune to that pansy-ass bullshit.” I laugh, but my stomach decides to go queasy at that very second.
“Girls.” My back straightens at the motherly tone as Sienna’s brown eyes flicker behind me as if we’ve been caught doing something we shouldn’t. I twist off the stool, coming to stand next to my least favorite sister-in-law. And even though she’s my only sister-in-law, I may like her a teeny tiny bit more than I like the uppity cunt in front of us. Someone needs to bring her down a notch. “I just wanted to say that I’m glad I got to do this for you, Sienna. Thank you both for coming tonight.”
“Thank you for having us. Thank you for doing this for Matteo,” Sienna says, and it sounds genuine rolling off her lips.
“I didn’t do this for my son,” she refutes. A hmph hums from my throat, making her flick her gaze to me. “I didn’t do it because you demanded I do it either. Believe me when I say I’m not afraid to tell Tony Caputo where he can shove it, or anyone else.” She looks back to Sienna. “I did it for Ari.” Tears well up so fast in her dark-blue eyes that mine round with shock.
“My mother?” Sienna questions, confusion and weariness evident in her voice.
“Ariana would have put on the biggest bridal shower for you. It would have been an all-day affair. That I can assure you, Sienna.” She blinks, and a cascade of liquid falls down her cheeks.
“How do you know my mother?”
“There was a time, long ago, but not that long ago, when we were best friends, your mother and me.”
My stomach chooses that moment to roll. “I’m going to be sick,” I stammer out, bringing my hand to my mouth. Not waiting for either of them to react, I cut around Martina and rush to the bathroom, praying I make it as bile inches up, trying to escape.
