When She Falls: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Fallen Book 3)
When She Falls: Chapter 6

A long breath escapes me as soon as I shut the side door of the house behind me.

If there’s a part of my life I prefer to never think about, it’s my high school years. I’m thirty years old. I should be over all of it by now, but the memories still bother me.

When I get to the wine cellar, I take off my jacket. Never liked the damn things. Whenever I’m suited up like this, I feel constricted, but what can you do? The occasion calls for it.

I spend at least ten minutes reading the labels, not registering a single word. It’s cool here, the temperature optimized for preserving the wine. Eventually, I settle on a random bottle and make my way back up to the kitchen.

Voices reach me as soon as I step through the door.

“Look, all I’m trying to tell you is that you have a choice.”

“Vale, enough.” Gemma’s voice is strained.

I place the bottle on the counter, careful not to make a sound, and try to figure out where they are. Probably just down the hall.

“You’re only making it worse by constantly bringing it up. I’m marrying Rafaele. It’s settled, and I’m fine with it.”

“But you don’t even know him.”

“So what? This is what I’ve expected my whole life.”

“That doesn’t make it right or normal.”

“We aren’t normal. We sacrificed normal to be powerful.”

“We didn’t do anything. Our father did.”

“You say that like you’re making some kind of a point. We’re a family. A fucked-up, messed-up family, but a family nonetheless. Papà’s made it clear that my marriage is important for our family’s survival.”

That’s interesting.

I thought the marriage was a cherry on top of Garzolo’s love affair with Rafaele, nothing more. They’re already in business together.

Unless Garzolo’s been lying. If things in New York aren’t nearly as stable as he made them seem, then this alliance might be more about survival than expansion.

Valentina huffs. “I don’t understand. I thought that after you found out what they did to me by marrying me to Lazaro, you’d stop being so blindly loyal.”

“What they did to you was a horrible mistake. They both acknowledge it now. You know that, right?”

“Father only acknowledges it because Damiano forced him to. His apology to me was said through gritted teeth.”

“He’s proud, but deep down, he knows what he did was wrong. And Mamma cries in her bedroom at night. One time, I went to her, and she told me she’ll never forgive herself for putting you in that situation.”

“I don’t believe her. She suspected what was happening, at least in broad strokes. She knew Lazaro wasn’t right in the head. When I tried to give her the details, she wouldn’t listen.”

“You know she’s never gone against Papà. She didn’t know how to change anything.”

“God, Gem! I’m not ever going to forgive them, all right? I feel sorry for Mamma, I do, but not enough for me to excuse her for her role in all of this.”

“Fine. I won’t try to change your mind. Now do me the same courtesy about my upcoming marriage.”

Valentina sighs. “There was a time when you wouldn’t have been okay with marrying a Messero.”

“Maybe I’ve grown up since then. I was there when Tito died. You weren’t. They brought our cousin to our house while he was bleeding out, and I held his hand as he took his last few breaths. I’ve seen what perceived weakness can do to our family, how it makes our enemies foam at the mouth. My marriage to Rafaele will ensure things like that won’t happen again. So just stop it, okay? I’m fine with my decision. I don’t need you to try to make me feel bad about it.”

I frown. So Gemma thinks she’s saving the family. From what? Did Garzolo make up some imaginary threat to pressure her into this marriage? Or is he in actual trouble?

Either way, Garzolo’s lying to one of us.

“That’s not what I’m trying to do,” Vale says.

“It’s what it feels like. Now can we please get back to dinner? Your husband will worry about you.”

“Will yours?”

There’s a long silence and then the sound of footsteps. I press my back against the fridge and wait for them to pass, but a moment later, Gemma enters the dark kitchen.

She stops by the island and presses her palms against the counter as if to steady herself. Her shoulders and head slump.

A door opens somewhere in the distance. Must be Vale going back outside.

It’s just the two of us now.

Given we’re working with Garzolo, I can’t just ignore this. If he’s been lying about everything being stable in New York and Gemma knows something, I’ve got to get it out of her.

I step out of the shadows.

She hears the rustle of my clothes and whirls around. When she sees it’s me, her expression morphs from resignation to fury. “Were you eavesdropping?”

I walk toward the kitchen island and take a peach from the basket. “Didn’t think you were such a hero, Gem.”

She watches me take a bite. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I wipe a drop of juice off my chin with the back of my hand. “I thought your father got rid of all his enemies. Who is he afraid of now?”

“Oh yes, let me just spill all of my family’s business to you.”

I study her. Her body language doesn’t match her haughty tone. Her eyes flit back and forth, like she can’t look at me head-on.

She doesn’t know shit.

“Let me get this straight.” I move around the island. “You don’t even know if there’s a real threat or if your papa’s just being paranoid?”

Perceived weakness. Why would anyone in New York think Garzolo is weak after he sent the Riccis packing? The casualty numbers might have been higher than we thought… Possible, given how weird Garzolo got when we brought it up.

But if he’s really so weak, why is Messero getting into bed with him?

A lot of questions and no answers.

Gemma mirrors my movements to prevent me from getting closer to her. “Do you really think my father shares every detail about his business with me? Why do you care anyway?”

“Did you even bother to ask?”

Her expression flashes with uncertainty.

Cazzo.

Irritation inches along my skin. Seeing her being such an obedient little princess pisses me the fuck off. She’s willing to marry Rafaele on blind faith in her Papà?

We’re still moving around the island like two hands of a clock. I take the last bite of my peach and place the pit on the granite surface.

Gemma glances at it.

Before she realizes what’s happening, I anchor my hands on the counter and haul myself over the island.

I land directly in front of her.

“What are—”

“I think I get it now.”

She tries to move to the side, but I bracket her in with my arms.

When she realizes I’m not going to let her escape, her angry gaze moves to my face. “Get what?”

Just being this close to her sends blood rushing to my dick.

My irritation morphs into a simmering kind of frustration. “You’re angry and miserable. You’re sacrificing your future, and you don’t even know what you’re sacrificing it for.”

A shadow passes over her eyes, but she raises her chin in defiance. “You don’t know anything.”

“You can’t show anyone how you really feel, can you? You’re too busy pretending to be perfect for your papa’s sake. So you suppress all that rage, and then you take it out on me.”

She grips each of my wrists and tries to push my hands off the counter. “You really think it’s not possible that I just genuinely dislike you?”

The venom in her voice is convincing, but I haven’t done enough to earn it.

She knows I’m right.

I twist my wrists, effortlessly shaking her off.

Her hands fall back to her sides.

They’re trembling.

“Look at your hands,” I command.

She does. When she sees what I’m seeing, she sucks in a breath and makes two fists.

“That won’t do it.” I’m so close I can pick up on the floral scent of her perfume. I wrap my palms around her delicate wrists and force her fists against my abdomen.

“Let go of me.”

“I’ll be your punching bag. Hit me.”

She presses farther away from me, probably wishing she could move through the counter. Her full lips part. Waver. “I-I’m not going to do that.”

“Why not? I’ve been that for you ever since we met.”

I let my gaze drop down her body. She’s breathing hard, making the swell of her breasts rise and fall. The outline of her nipples are visible through that silky dress, and my cock swells against the zipper of my slacks.

She’s so fucking beautiful it hurts.

I take a small step back to give her some space, but I keep her fists pressed to my abdomen. “C’mon, Gem. You said you don’t like me. Or did you lie?”

Apparently, she really doesn’t want me thinking that, because she jerks her right wrist out of my hold and punches me.

A thrill runs up my spine. I don’t like that fake, perfect version of her. I like this one. The one that keeps me on my toes.

I chuckle. “That’s all you’ve got?”

She glares at me, teeth clenched, jaw tight.

“Your technique could use some— Oof.”

She cuts me off with another punch, this time noticeably harder.

“Still not quite—”

She goes for two more, and I tense my abs to absorb the hits. When she feels the difference, her eyes go momentarily wide. She makes a frustrated sound and then really hits me.

“There.” I grab her hand and hold it in place. Then I lift it between us.

It’s steady.

“You see? Sometimes, you should just let it out. It feels good to do what you want. You should try it more often.”

“Fuck you,” she hisses.

Anger. So much anger for me.

But I bet for Messero, she’ll turn docile and sweet.

A knot of disgust twists inside my gut, and that’s when I do something I shouldn’t.

I follow my own advice about just doing what I want.

The space between us disappears. My thighs press to hers, and I force her back against the counter.

Her eyes widen. “Ras—”

I grab her jaw with my palm and tilt her face up. “Since you seem so fucking good at bending to your parents’ will, let’s see how well you bend to mine.”

She gasps, her pink mouth falling open.

I lean in and kiss her.

She’s always been so sharp around me, so for a moment, I’m taken aback by the softness of her lips. They mold perfectly to mine. I curl my other hand around her nape and pull her closer, holding her in place so that she won’t break the kiss until I get my fill.

My tongue lashes out, forcing past her lips and into the heat of her mouth. She makes a sound. A strangled moan. Perhaps, a muffled protest.

Fuck, I really shouldn’t be doing this. But after all the buildup, all the tension, this is a heady release. I lick inside her mouth, gorging on her taste. It’s laced with remnants of that sweet wine, but now the flavor is perfect. Exquisite.

We fit together. Her smaller body is snug against mine, her breasts pressing against my chest, their nipples hard enough to—

“Fuck!”

I stagger backwards, black spots bursting across my vision and pain shooting up my groin.

She kneed me in the balls.

I grin through the pain. Yeah, I fucking earned that.

“Have you lost your damn mind?”

Her question wipes the smile off my face.

Actually, it’s her tone.

Panicked. Afraid.

I glance up at her from my bent-over position. She’s all the way on the other side of the kitchen now.

Even in the dim light, I can see her eyes glistening, her chin trembling.

Cazzo.

Despite the pulsating pain, I force myself to straighten up. There’s an unpleasant falling sensation in my gut, a delayed realization that maybe I took it too far.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Gemma wipes her lips slowly, making a show of her disgust.

My stomach bottoms out. She’s upset.

Her nostrils flare. “Do you know what would happen to me if my father saw what you just did?” She gives her head an indignant shake. “I should have known. I should have left this kitchen as soon as you appeared.”

It’s a game between us, isn’t it? I kissed her. She kneed me. We’re even. Only she doesn’t seem to think so. “Gemm—”

She slams her fist against the counter, her eyes blazing with fury. “This is the hardest time of my life. I’m barely managing as is. And you’ve come along and decided to make me into your entertainment. Don’t you think I have enough problems to deal with as is? Or do you think this is fun for me? Hearing people talk about how crazy the family that I’m marrying into is? It’s a joke for them, but there’s nothing funny about it. It’s my fucking life. My life they’re laughing at. Me.”

I feel my blood seep out of my face.

Fuck. I hurt her.

Now I’m the one panicking. “No one is laughing at you.”

She snarls. “You are. You don’t even bother trying to disguise it. You’re either mocking me or you’re trying to dissect me like I’m some lab animal. Leave me alone. I’m not doing this for myself. I’m doing this for my family. Out of loyalty. Do you even know what loyalty means?”

“Of course I—”

“You’re loyal to Damiano. If he told you something was important, that it was critical for you to do it, would you?”

I would. It’s my job to follow his orders. But I’d ask questions. I’d want an explanation.

And if he refused to give it?

Ice slips inside my veins. Did I criticize Gemma for doing the same thing I would?

She’s waiting for my answer, her fist still clenched against the granite counter.

I force it past my dry throat. “Yes.”

“That’s right,” she snaps. “You’d do anything for him. Well, I’m doing this for my family.” She drops her hand to her side and stares at me, unblinking. “You should thank God that your loyalty will never require you to sell your body to another. That Damiano will never ask you to let a stranger take you home and spend years pumping you full of his children.”

Acid floods my mouth. This is how it is for women born into this life, but for some reason, hearing Gemma say it shocks me.

It’s repulsive. The thought of her being forced into starting a family with someone she doesn’t want. Doesn’t love. Her body not belonging to her, not fully.

The scales were never balanced, but the unfairness of it all has never felt this stark.

“That’s what we’re ultimately here for, you know? To breed. In our world, my crowning achievement will be birthing the next generation of made men. That’s what I have waiting for me. So in my last few weeks of freedom, the last thing I need is you rubbing in my face just how pathetic you think I am.” Her voice breaks. “Let me enjoy my time here, damn it. You don’t need to rob the last few bits of happiness from me.”

My fists clench. I watch a single tear slip out of her eye, and it’s crushing.

I’m an asshole. A real fucking jerk.

I fight against the urge to cross the distance between us and embrace her. She doesn’t want my comfort. The least I can do is respect that.

She must see how thoroughly she’s flattened me. How she’s made me into mud at the bottom of her shoe.

If she was afraid of me before, she isn’t now. She walks around the island and points her finger at my chest.

“You may have fooled my sister, Ras, but you’ve never fooled me. I see you for who you are.”

“Who’s that?”

The tip of her finger presses against my shirt, right between my pecs. “A brute with no honor. You might be loyal to Damiano, but everyone else is fair game. You’re the kind of asshole who’d ruin someone’s life just for a bit of amusement.”

Nunzio’s voice flits through my head. “You think this is funny? Do you know how hard my parents worked for that?”

I shake the memory off.

She backs away. “You won’t touch me again. Do you understand?”

And then, before I can even think about how to answer, she whirls around and stalks out of the kitchen.