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I stop when I spot Dante’s worn-out black boots. He’s home.
“Rosa?” he calls out.
I tug on the sleeves of my cardigan and try to form a fake smile.
Stepping around the corner, I freeze in my tracks. The dining table is scattered with red roses, with two pillar candles flickering on the table and two placements set out.
I take a step back as he appears from the kitchen.
“Come have a seat. I’ve made us lunch.” He looms over the back of one of the chairs and pulls it away from the table. A forced smile twists the scar on the side of his face.
“I-er, just need to freshen up,” I lie and dart out of the room, slamming my bathroom door shut.
Gripping onto the sink, I take a deep breath. In and out. Luca’s voice replays in my brain, soothing me. Telling me to keep focused. Remember why I’m doing this.
I flush the toilet and pull down my dress so it’s at my knees. In a moment of panic, I scramble out my phone from my purse.
Rosa
He’s home. I won’t be able to talk tonight.
L
It’s all taken care of. Don’t worry, baby. I’m all yours for the night.
My heart flutters as I re-read his text. The whole night?
I bite back a smile.
“Rosa!” Dante yells, the sharpness in his tone making me hurry. Making sure my forbidden phone is on silent, I throw open the bathroom cabinet and place it behind a bottle of bleach.
As I re-enter the room, he’s still holding out the chair for me.
“You look lovely, Rosa.”
I nod and take a seat.
“Thank you.”
This whole charade of being nice to him is starting to wear thin.
He sets down a plate of garlic chicken with a variety of vegetables and potatoes. I try to stop the slight tremble in my hands as I pick up the cutlery. I’m about as comfortable as having a gun to my head right now.
He watches intently as I take a bite. The salt on the chicken makes my mouth dry up.
“Could you pass me the water?” I croak out.
“I have wine?” He grins.
“No.” I hold my hand up, hoping he doesn’t press any further.
He starts shoveling in his food like the pig he is. I sit and watch him in disgust, keeping my facial expression sweet and loving like he wants.
“So, I’ve hired a wedding planner. I’ve set the date for the last weekend in July. I’ve already had her pick out a dress for you, too. So, no need to worry your pretty little head about a thing.” He looks up and grins at me, like he’s impressed by his efforts.
“Why so soon?” I watch as his knuckles turn white as he grips his knife. My leg starts to bounce erratically under the table.
“Why wait? I’ve waited six years to claim you, Rosa.”
