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66
WREN
“What the fuck is taking so long?”
I yelp in surprise as Vittorio storms into the room like a jackal foaming at the mouth. My pulse races up when I realize that Bee’s prosthetic stomach is lying by the side of the bed where she’d flung it on the way to the bathroom.
I sidle to the side and kick it under the bed as subtly as I can manage. “She’s in the bathroom,” I say nervously. “Last-minute jitters.”
Vittorio storms to the bathroom door and slams his fist against it twice. “Beatrice Zanetti!” he roars. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“For fuck’s sake, Papa!” she screams right back, her voice only slightly muffled by the door between them. “Can’t a bride pee in peace on her goddamn wedding day?”
“You’re choosing this moment to piss?”
“I’m nervous! There’s a thousand people out there!”
“Which should suit you fine. You’ve always loved being the center of attention!” He pounds on the door again and the frame vibrates dangerously. For a moment, I genuinely think he’s prepared to break it down.
“Give me five minutes!”
Spit flecks the door frame as he snarls, “Don’t you dare embarrass me further, you little?—”
“Mr. Zanetti.” He twists around as though he’s only just noticed I’m here. I move away from the bed so as not to draw attention to his future “grandchild” underneath it. “This is a big day for her. It’s only natural that she’s nervous. Just give her a few more minutes. We won’t be late, I swear.”
As his eyes narrow on me, I feel like an idiot who’s caused a distraction so that the prey can get away—only to become the prey myself.
“Ah,” he croons as a fake, oily smile spreads across his saggy face. “The little assistant.” I don’t like how he says it. As though there’s a giant question mark stamped over the title. “I’ve heard you’ve become indispensable to my daughter.”
I refuse to let my fear break through. “Just doing my job, sir.”
His gaze falls to my stomach. “How lovely you look. Beautiful enough to take attention away from the bride, almost.”
“No one will be looking at me with Bee in the room,” I say with an anxious gulp. “I’ll be invisible.”
I freeze when he reaches out without warning and drags a single fingertip over my stomach. I wish so badly I could slap it away; self-preservation is the only reason I stay my hand. “You and Bee aren’t far apart at all, are you?”
“No.”
“How interesting that you will have your babies within weeks, perhaps even days, of one another.”
I shrug. “This isn’t my baby. I’m a surrogate, remember?”
“Oh, I do remember. I remember everything.” His voice ripples with warning. Then, in a sudden blur of motion, he snatches my upper arm and pulls me back towards his unnaturally white teeth. “I’m gonna find the truth sooner or later, little bird. And when I do, there will be hell to pay.”
His grip on my arm tightens. But just as the scream rises to my throat, Aleksandr walks into the room.
“Don Zanetti, you’re needed in the ceremony hall.” His tone is just harsh enough to get his point across. It’s bizarre to hear all the laughter and joy ironed out of his voice, to see his face violent and grim. It’s like another person operating Aleks’s body. I don’t think I like it, although it’s suddenly easy to understand why Dmitri trusts him so much.
Vittorio keeps his eyes fixed on me as he curls a lock of my hair through his fingers. He pulls it up to his nose and gives it a sniff. “Hmm. So sweet… so innocent… He definitely has a type, doesn’t he?”
He turns away just before my gag reflex kicks in. “Five minutes,” he growls. “And not a second more.”
He slams the door on his way out and Aleksandr’s taut expression falls flat. Now, he just looks tired. “Bee!” he says urgently, hitting the door. “He’s gone.”
The door opens and she appears, clothed in her white bridal underwear and non-traditional black leather garter because she can’t do anything purely traditional if her whole damn life depended on it—which, in this case, it actually does.
“I can’t do this!” she whispers in terror.
