Of course, Raf had always been the target of his taunts, and one of the reasons why Raf's always tried not to draw attention.
"And you must be the nun my brother's marrying," he continues, coming closer and getting into my face, a smug smile on his lips as he no doubt thinks he can intimidate me. "Couldn't you have found another one? She probably doesn't even know what to do with a dick," he tries to pull another joke, and of course the girls by his side think he's said the funniest thing ever, their laughter irritatingly loud.
Not afraid of him, since I've met more than my fair share of bullies like him, I raise my chin slightly, meeting his gaze with mine.
Why, but he could be Cressida's male counterpart.
"Well," I start, a sweet look on my face as I slowly bat my lashes at him, "I certainly wouldn't know what to do with yours," I move ever so slightly towards him, my hands on his shoulders as I pat him lightly.
He frowns, not realizing what I mean, at least not until my knee makes contact with said dick. He winces in pain, bending forward, his eyes shooting daggers at me.
"Since you should probably buy a new one." I wink at him just as the girls by his side gasp, trying to help him.
One look at Raf and he nods, both of us getting in the car and calling out for his aunt to come along too.
I can already hear his curses and the way he calls me bitch as the car leaves the parking lot.
"Dear, was that your brother?" Raf's aunt asks, barely paying attention to us, "I should have said hello," she frowns for a moment before continuing her phone conversation, promptly forgetting us.
"I'm sorry." Raf apologizes as soon as the car is in motion, getting us as far away from that horrible human being.
"Don't. I understand now why you'd hate him. He's vile," I reply, my lips pursed. "A few minutes in his presence and I feel like scrubbing my skin clean. Ew," I stick out my tongue in disgust.
Raf chuckles, telling me that was a mild Michele, and that usually he's even worse.
I listen attentively, dreading the fact that he's soon going to be my brother in law. One thing is for sure. If Michele tries something, he's going to have a few surprises. I may be a nun but I guess he'll have a holy surprise when he sees I don't take anyone's shit.
"Why?" I whimper in pain as I stare at his face.
So emotionless.
"This was just an experiment, Sisi. And it has failed," he shrugs, coming closer to me and gazing down at me with disgust.
"But I'm sure there are enough women out there to take your place, after all, you're nothing special."
I gasp at his cruelty, tears at the corner of my eyes.
"Please, don't say that," I whisper, wishing with my entire being that he would just laugh it off and say he is joking.
"Why?" He comes even closer to me, backing me into the wall. "Am I hurting your tender feelings?" he drawls as one finger moves down my face, the contact making me shiver. "Am I making you feel... unwanted?" he rasps in my ear, my entire body stilling at the words.
"Stop, please," I beg him, the words resounding in my ears, their echo unstoppable. "Stop."
But he doesn't.
Hands wrapped around my neck, he tightens his hold until I can barely breathe.
"Stop," even my voice becomes barely audible as I try to push him off me.
But he doesn't budge.
He has an evil smile painted on his face, as if he couldn't wait to kill me faster.
One hand leaves my neck, the other still snuffing the life out of me. Hiking my skirt up, he's inside my body in one thrust, the pain making me blank.
"No!" I yell, shooting out of bed. I'm covered in sweat, my entire body hyperventilating.
It was a dream. It was just a dream.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.
But as I glance down my body, my mouth opens on a silent scream as I see a pool of blood between my thighs, my sheets soaked in it.
I blink twice, trying to chase sleep away, convinced it's still a dream. But when I open my eyes again to see the blood still there, a new fear envelops me.
No... No... my baby.
And I scream. I scream to the top of my lungs, fear overtaking me and making me tremble uncontrollably.
Venezia is the first to burst through my door, her eyes widening as she takes in all the blood around me.
"Call an ambulance." I don't know how I find the strength to speak. Even more so in coherent sentences. But I do. And as it dawns on me that I need to act fast, I realize I can't succumb to fear, or desperation.
I need to fight.
Maybe it's not too late. I'd read about spotting. Maybe it's just that.
Even though looking at the amount of blood, it's not that.
I keep on holding myself together, even as they load me into the ambulance, and all the way to the hospital. I just close my eyes and imagine my dark haired baby and how happy we'll be together. I hold on to that thought, and it's the only thing standing between me and a breakdown.
And then it happens.
"I'm sorry, Miss Lastra, but you've suffered a miscarriage," the doctor says, and I can't hear anything after that.
Just like that, everything's been snatched away from me.
I can't even find it in me to cry anymore, or wail, or scream at the injustice. I can only stare at the walls that seem to share in my desolation—with their dark shadows filling up the light.
It's a while after that Marcello comes to see me, and I feel even worse for troubling him.
What if he sends me away? Again?
The thought is unbearable, so I do the only thing I can—I lie.
"We're getting married," I state as confidently as I can, trying to ignore the way my heart hurts as I lie about loving Raf, or about everything.
Like the overprotective brother he is, Marcello is contrite, trying to convince me that I don't have to marry Raf.
But he doesn't get it. He doesn't realize that I don't have to, but I need to.
Even now I feel myself succumbing deeper into myself, and I know that if I continue like this I'll only become worse.
I need someone who wants me, even if it's for all the wrong reasons. I just need somewhere to belong.
"We'll see," Marcello purses his lips, exiting the salon.
I promised Raf I'll marry him, and I will. Maybe in the process I'll find myself again too.
Lina and Venezia both visit me, shocking me with how much they've worried for me. It brings tears to my eyes to realize that there are some people who do care about me in this world.
But later, when the doctor discharges me home and I'm alone again, I can't help but reach for the small ultrasound picture I'd hidden in my drawer.
I hold it to my chest and I try to imagine again what it would have been like—the dark-haired boy I know I'll never meet.
And the tears start anew.
"Oh, God... why am I so cursed?" I ask out loud, only silence greeting me.
There's no other explanation for it. I am cursed.
And the worst thing is that... Life throws me the bait, giving me the illusion that I may find happiness, only to wrench it away from me at the worst moment—when I'm at my happiest.
It seems that it is my fate to be forever alone... and forever unwanted.
The days pass, but I barely notice whether it's day or night. The wedding arrangements are quickly dealt with, people coming and going from the house, Raf's family practically making camp here as they are getting increasingly excited for the wedding.
I just fake a smile and try to get through the motions, nothing really getting a reaction out of me.
Not even Raf with his sweet nature can make me snap out of my current state.
I'm simply surviving.
"Sisi," I hear Lina's voice as she knocks on my door the night before the wedding.
"Come in," I say, watching her enter the room, uncertainty all over her face.
"I wanted to talk to you before..." she trails off whe
n she sees my blank face.
I nod, motioning her to the table by the window.
"I can't help but feel that you haven't been yourself," she starts, her hands fidgeting in her lap. I turn my head to her, my stare vacant—as it usually is—and I just shrug.
"I'll be fine," I respond, almost flippantly.
"I know losing a child can be extremely painful, but..." she starts talking, my ears already tuning everything out.
I'd lied that I hadn't known I was pregnant. That I was just as surprised as them. It made it easier to avoid their pitiful glances, and even easier for me to pretend that I'm fine.
But I'm not.
All I want to do is scream at the world that I'm not fine. That I want my baby back. That I want him back.
But it's never going to happen. No matter how much I tell myself that it isn't real — it is. And it hurts.
God, almost daily I have to battle with myself to even get out of bed. How I've managed to put on clothes, a pretty smile and nod at everyone's words is beside me.
I want to be left alone.
"You don't have to marry him, Sisi. If you don't want to," Lina's hand covers my own, the compassion reflected in her gaze almost moving me.
But how can you move something that does not exist anymore?
I've become increasingly certain that my heart must have died the same moment my baby did. Because that was the last time I felt something.
"It will be alright, Lina," I say stiffly. "It will all be alright."
The words sound fake to my ears too, so it's no wonder Lina frowns in concern, coming closer to me and taking me into her arms.
Once upon a time, that hug would have revitalized me. Now it feels just... bleak.
"I don't want you to feel forced into something just because you slept with him. Marcello isn't like my parents, Sisi. He's never going to push those outdated standards on you," she tells me, lightly stroking my short hair.
It's funny how no one's ever questioned my sudden change in behavior, my new hair, or the fact that I cannot exit the house without a scarf—during summer. For all their concern, do they really care?
"I want to," I reply, my gaze already fixed on the lawn outside, where my prince had once waited for me, to save me from my tower. "It's going to be fine," I repeat.
Lina doesn't seem convinced, but she leaves me alone at last.
And I can finally go back to sleep—the only time I can be together with my baby.
"You look so pretty, Sisi," Lina's voice makes me blink twice, and I try to pay attention to what she's saying.
Entwining the lace veil with a small diamond tiara, she places it over my coiffed hair.
"I can't believe you're getting married," I watch her through the mirror as she swipes a tear off her cheek. "You make such a pretty bride. The most beautiful," she leans in to kiss my forehead.
"Me neither," I murmur, forcing a smile.
Everyone around me is so happy, and given my atrocious lie, I can see why they'd be overjoyed for me. So I try to play into the illusion I've created, stretching my lips into a perpetual smile to ensure there's no doubt about my state of mind.
I am the bride, after all.
I stare at my reflection, unable to believe it's gotten to this point. How my life had degenerated in the span of one month. I'd never seen myself as particularly lucky, not given everything I've been through. But for one moment I'd thought that all the hardships would give way to happiness.
I'd left the convent that was the source of all my nightmares, and I'd finally found someone who understood me. Who saw me — with the good and the bad. I'd finally found myself after aimlessly wandering all my life.
But it hadn't lasted.
Now? Once again, I'm looking at a life of pretending.
Pretending I'm good.
Pretending I'm in love with my husband.
Pretending I'm not... more.
Recognizing the direction of my thoughts, I shake myself from my musings, turning back to Lina and smiling widely at her.
"It's going to be amazing," the lie just flows out of my mouth. "I never thanked you, Lina," I turn to her, the only truthful thing I'm willing to say today. "For everything that you've done for me at Sacre Coeur. I don't think I would have been here without you," I squeeze her hand.
Her eyes tear up again, and she can't help herself from sniffling, throwing her entire body towards me and wrapping her arms around me in a big hug.
"Oh, Sisi. You know how much I love you. You'll always be my sister. Never forget that," she whispers.
"Thank you. You and Claudia were the only two people keeping me sane there," I admit, returning her hug.
She may not know the extent of what happened to me at Sacre Coeur, but she's been my only source of comfort during those cold years. For that, there are no words that could do justice to how much I am thankful to her.
"You too Sisi. You were always the brave one, and you gave us a little courage each time," she smiles.
I wish I had that courage now, because even though my feet carry me towards Raf, my heart is already dead and buried.
The entire wedding entourage heads to the church, and Marcello and I are the last to arrive, prepared to walk arm in arm towards the altar.
"I'm proud of you, Sisi," Marcello tells me, kissing my cheeks right before making our entrance. It's the first time he's touched me for more than a second, and I soak in the contact. "But don't forget that you will always have a home with us," he continues and I nod, tears burning behind my eyes.
Following the musical cue, we walk slowly inside.
Raf is waiting for me at the altar, looking dashing in his black tux, his blond hair combed back and emphasizing his baby blue eyes.
Ah, how I wish I could have loved him first. It would have saved me a world of heartache.
But even as those thoughts intrude in my mind, I know them to be wrong. Because although I am aware of my own heartbreak, I also know that there's only one man I could ever love. One man who seems to have been made just for me.
But it wasn't meant to be.
Maybe we were the right people at the wrong time. Or maybe he was just right for me, and I was wrong for him.
My feet feel heavy as I put one foot in front of the other, the distance shrinking by the second.
And suddenly I'm by Raf's side, the priest starting the ceremony, everyone looking extremely happy as they cheer us on from the sidelines.
A panic unlike any other takes hold of me, and I can barely stop myself from trembling.
"Will you..." the priest's words are a blur, my ears ringing with what I can only describe as a deafening sound.
I close my eyes, blinking rapidly. But then the entire room darkens, smoke infiltrating in the church.
For some reason, I don't know if this is real or if it's just something my sick mind is producing, rejecting the reality I find myself in and somehow creating a new one.
People are yelling, shots are fired. The noises become increasingly loud.
An arm sneaks around my waist, a hand on my mouth as I feel a hot breath on my neck.
"You're not getting rid of me, hell girl," he drawls, a dangerous sound that makes my already dead heart weep.
And then the world goes black.
PART III
Let me lay my head to sleep, my love.
The monsters are coming.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A throbbing in my temples forces me to open my eyes, my lids heavy, my entire body aching. It takes me a moment to regain my bearings and remember what had happened.
Pulling myself up, I note I am still in my wedding dress. But one glance around the room and I realize I'm in a foreign location.
I'm sitting on a huge king sized bed in the middle of an equally enormous room. I try to move my limbs, happy when I see that nothing is wrong with me.
But what happened?
I remember being so deep inside my head, trying to block the ceremony out and everyth
ing around me, that I hadn't realized when the whole church had filled with smoke. And then...
My eyes widen as I recall his words. In my ear. His arms. On my body.
"What in God's name happened?" I mutter, more to myself.
The entire room is empty save for the bed. The almost ceiling high windows allow plenty of light to infiltrate the room, and I have to turn my gaze away, my eyes blinded by it.
I swing my legs off the bed, heading straight for the door.
If this is another one of Vlad's games, then he's going to be in for a small surprise because I'm not about to allow him to embroil me in mood swings.
I can already foresee why he'd done this. He'd been too bored and had decided to mess with both me and Marcello.
A bitter smile escapes me as I realize I shouldn't think myself that important to him, after all hadn't he said the exact thing? That I wasn't the only woman in the world? He'd likely done it to toy with Marcello.
Regardless, I will not sit by and wait for him to make a fool of me again. No matter how much my heart still beats painfully in my chest knowing he's somewhere close. No. Our time has passed.
Wrapping my hand around the handle of the door, I pull down, not surprised to find the door locked.
Like the windows, the door is ceiling high as well. It's old too, the wood spoiled around the corners, the painting coming off in ugly stripes.
For a moment I'm saddened by what I'm about to do since this is clearly a historic building. But he has left me no alternative.
Raising my foot, I balance myself on my other leg as I try to gain as much momentum as I can before kicking.
The sole of my foot connects with the wood, the sound reverberating in the room.
It's not budging.
The more I kick, the more I realize that for all its dilapidated appearance, the wood is strong — too strong for my puny kicks.
Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4) Page 41