When She Falls (The Fallen, #3)

by Gabrielle Sands

A dry chuckle leaves Papà’s mouth. “Damiano De Rossi. You’re a handsome guy, huh? I can see now why my daughter is so partial to you. You know women, they’re drawn to pretty things.” Damiano’s smile is a sharp, crooked line. “I wonder what drew your wife to you then, Garzolo.”

As soon as I removed my hand, she sank her surprisingly sharp teeth into my forearm. I remember staring into those stormy-gray eyes as she drew blood and thinking, “Fuck, this woman is beautiful.”

“I have to say, I thought you’d skip this one.” “Skip what? This trip? My sister’s getting married. Even your annoying presence isn’t enough to keep me away.” The grin widens. “I’ve missed you too, Gem.” “Don’t call me Gem. And I’ve missed you as much as someone misses a used condom.”

Gentlemen don’t look at engaged women the way I look at Gemma Garzolo.

“Is that how you talk around your father?” “You’re not my father.” “No, but I’ve been called daddy on occasion.”

I glance over my shoulder to where Gemma is standing. Whenever she’s around, I feel an inexplicable need to know exactly what she’s doing.

A server comes around to serve us bread, and I ask for two big chunks. I fucking love bread. It’s one of life’s greatest pleasures.

“Tell me, why does your tongue get so sharp around me, but you seem to swallow it around your parents?”

Because the truth is, he nailed something on the head. I don’t know if the fire is real. All I know is that it only really started to come out after I met him.

I roll my eyes. That isn’t true. Prime example—Ras. There is no situation, no possible scenario in which I’d get along with him.

“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.

“Since you seem so fucking good at bending to your parents’ will, let’s see how well you bend to mine.”

“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.”

“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.”

“You keep hearing it because it’s true. You don’t want to marry Rafaele. It’s obvious.” “You’re all missing the point. What I want doesn’t matter.”

“If your fiancé knew how feral you are, he’d demand a refund,” he growls. His face is so close, I can make out a tiny scar on his right cheek. “He thinks he bought himself an obedient wife, when what he’s really getting is a brat.”

The parrot cocks his yellow head. “Fuck off!” “And all you taught him is how to swear and compliment women?” Ras looks down at me, a grin teasing at his lips. “The most critical skills, don’t you think?”

“You do look a little rough.” Her nose wrinkles. “It’s not contagious, is it?” My grip turns crushing. “I guess you’ll know soon enough.” She jerks her hand back, gives me a scowl, and disappears into the bedroom.

That bruise on her face was hard to look at. And by hard, I mean it made me homicidal.

I’ll find out who it was, and I’ll make them pay. Now that I’m here, no one’s going to touch a hair on her head.

Although what I want to do to her is decidedly not familial in nature.

“Such a baby.” “More like I want to have babies one day, but I won’t if my balls freeze off out here.”

“They think you’re handsome. And you’re all exotic with your tan and long hair and tattoos.”

“What. Did. He. Do.”

“You fucked with the wrong girl, Ben,” Ras growls.

“You know, in the old days, we’d cut off your hand for that.” Benjamin is bawling. “Not my hand. Please, not my hand!” “No problem. I can be a reasonable guy.” Ras knees him in the balls—hard—and throws him to the ground.

Hihihi

“If you ever as much as look at her again for a second too long, I won’t just cut off your hand. I’ll cut off every limb. I’ll make you into a stump. Do you understand me?”

sigh. “He’s going to need therapy.” Ras shrugs. “Should have thought of that before he laid a finger on you.”

Instead, his eyes darken. “You’re exquisite. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

He clicks his tongue. “Shit, I’m sorry.” “It’s nothing.” But he won’t take my word for it. He slides the strap off my shoulder, each one of his fingertips a hot brand across my skin. “You’re bleeding.” Someone’s filling the air in this room with electricity. It skates over my face, my neck, my chest, and I don’t know how to turn it off. “I— It’s fine.” “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

All I could think about as I looked at her standing in front of the mirror in that fucking dress was how unfair it is that Messero will have the privilege of having her for the rest of his life.

If she was engaged to me, I wouldn’t squander a single second. She’d be glued to my side. If she wanted to eat, I’d feed her. If she wanted to sit, it would be on my lap. If she wanted to shower, I’d wash every inch of that perfect skin and then dirty her up again.

I press the cold tumbler against my forehead. The fact that I’m actually thinking through the potential repercussions of murdering Gemma’s fiancé is just fucking great.

She’s not dressed to impress anyone, and yet she’s fucking gorgeous. I wasn’t lying when I called her the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

Ras, you’re one of the best men I’ve ever met.”

“Spend tonight with me. I want you to be my first. Not Rafaele. You.”

“I don’t want to be your first, Peaches. I want to be your last. And I don’t want your fucking virginity. I just want you.”

All you care about is taking good care of yourself. You’re a disgraceful don. I’m starting to think you’re right. Our family will be in good hands with Rafaele. After all, he can’t possibly be any worse than you.”

“You fucking decrepit piece of shit,” he spits out, the veins on his forearms growing more prominent as he squeezes and squeezes. Papà’s face turns beet red beneath his grip. “I knew it was you.” Ras’s voice is clear and deadly and ricochets off the walls. “You’ve done this to her before.” Papà’s eyes bulge. Ras is going to kill him.

“She’s your fucking daughter. You get off on beating women? Does it make you feel tough? You’re a sad joke, you goddamn asshole.”

“I’m taking Gemma to the hospital. You better not be here when we come back. I don’t give a fuck that this is your house. I don’t give a fuck that she’s your daughter. No one touches her. You hear me? No one. If I’m a dead man, I’m dragging you down to the depths of hell with me.”

don’t know. I’ll figure it out. But you’re never going to be alone with your father again. Ever.”

“Listen to me carefully,” I bite out. “Take that fucking chart, get your ass out of that chair, and tell the doctor to get the examination room ready. My girl needs help. She’s going to get it. Right fucking now. If the doctor as much as utters a protest, ask him what he prefers—to take his lunch a little late or eat it with a few missing teeth.”

have no fucking clue what we’re going to do, but the fact that I’m still here feels like a damn good start. There is no version of this universe where I’d get on a plane while she’s hurting.

The guy who’s going to do right by her, no matter what it takes or what it costs me.

When we’re far away from here, I’ll make her understand that her place is with me. That girl is mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.

I don’t give a fuck that you’re engaged. I want you, and I’m taking you. It’s not a question. It’s a fucking statement. There’s no scenario where I’m taking you back to the assholes that have mistreated and manipulated you. You deserve better than them. Your papa deserves to rot in that fucking jail. Let them scramble. Let them try to sort out this fucking mess. But we’re not going to stick around for it. We’re leaving. Now. Do you understand?”

“You came to me last night. You wanted to be with me. Well, here’s our chance. And I’m taking it for both of us, because if I walk away from you right now, I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

Outside, the wind stirs and makes the olive trees sway. The leaves rustle, their whispers streaming through the open window. You love her, they say.

“I remember how she talked to you when you were in Ibiza. As soon as lunch ended, I went to the kitchen, got those rolls you wanted, and dropped them off at the guest house.”