Chapter 5 Confess to Me

"Angelo Visconti, if you're going to ruin me, at least have the decency to do it with your mouth on mine."

I said it in a whisper.

There it is.

In the chapel of the Visconti.

The saints were blind, but the sinners, like me, were completely awake.

Angelo stayed still. His storm-gray eyes were fixated on me like I was the gun and he wanted me to pull the trigger. He was wearing black again. Yes, he was. Always sad about something. Maybe his spirit.

"Be careful, Rory," he said softly as he got closer. "You've already gone halfway to hell." I'll pull you the rest of the way if you confess like that again.

"I don't care about hell," I said.

His lips curled into a wicked smile. "Then you don't know me very well yet."

My back hit the carved wood of the confessional booth hard. He didn't put his hands on me.

Not yet.

Just leaned in, close enough for me to catch my breath.

"You lied," he muttered, his voice low like a prayer that had transformed into a threat. "To me." To Sal. "To yourself."

"I never-"

"You poisoned a boy you loved." Then they called a hotline that wasn't a hotline and sobbed about it.

I flinched.

He noticed it.

"You told me everything, Rory." And now you act like you don't know my voice? His fingertips brushed over my jaw so lightly that it hurt. "You cried about killing a boy and then begged the voice on the other end to tell you it wasn't your fault."

I wanted to get away. I wanted to disappear.

I whispered instead, "You... you said it wasn't."

"I lied."

I hit him.

He grabbed my wrist.

Then they kissed me.

I tried to shove him. I tried to scratch his shoulders. But as soon as our lips touched, I forgot why I hated him.

His mouth didn't ask. It worked. Like everything else he ever wanted.

And when I kissed him back, it wasn't because I was weak.

It was a war.

-

"You kissed me in a confession booth," I said as soon as we got back to the resort. "In a goddamn church, Angelo!"

"Good," he responded, taking off his coat. "God knows how much I want you now."

"I'm getting married to your uncle!"

"Correction." He made himself a drink. "He bought you." Like a silk outfit that no one will wear.

I ran angrily to the bar and knocked the glass out of his hand. "You don't have a say in what I do."

"And you can't lie to me when I've heard your secrets every Friday night for a year."

I stopped moving.

He leaned forward and moved a piece of hair away from my face. "You were so nice the first time you called." The moment you murmured "bless me father," I knew you were a mafia girl. Your voice shook. Your falsehoods didn't.

"You make me sick."

He smiled. "You're wet."

I hit him again.

He smiled even more.

"Stop playing, Rory," he whispered in a low voice. "You knew who I was. You knew deep down.

"Do you think I want this?" "You think I want you?"

He grabbed me by the hips and pushed me close to him.

He said, "No." "I think you need me."

Before I could stop them, my fingers knotted in his shirt. "You're the devil."

"Then tell me, sinner."

-

We burst into the bedroom like we were starving for something we couldn't name.

He pushed me against the door. His breath was hot on my neck. My dress bunched up around my thighs. His fingers felt like they belonged there when they touched my skin.

"I shouldn't," I said.

"Then tell me to stop."

I couldn't.

I wouldn't.

His mouth was on mine again, and every part of me that should have said no melted.

His hand slipped under the garter I wore just for show. "You wore this for him?"

I shook my head. "I wore it for me."

"You're a liar."

"Then punish me."

He hauled me onto the bed.

-

The moon outside cast shadows across the blankets.

We didn't speak for a long time.

Not until he rolled over, planted a kiss on my shoulder, and whispered- "Tell me something real, Rory. Something you've never told anyone."

I blinked into the dark. My chest is rising, falling.

"My father told me to smile when I delivered the drink that killed him," I muttered. "I loved that boy. But I smiled. I smiled like a goddamn Visconti wife in training."

Angelo's hand curled around mine.

"Good," he said after a pause. "Because I killed him anyway."

I shot up.

"You-what?"

"He didn't die from the poison," he replied in a chilly voice. "It made him unable to move. He was alive. Couldn't speak. Couldn't get up. "I ended it."

My throat got dry. "Why?"

He looked up at the ceiling. "Because he was going to tell him your name."

Quiet. Dead and choking.

"You... you did it for me?"

He said, "I did it for control." "Don't make it sound romantic."

But I did see it. That flicker. That pain.

I knew he was lying, though.

He did it because he couldn't stand the thought of anyone hurting me, even then.

-

I said softly, "I can't do this," as I pulled on my dress. "Salvatore will find out."

"He has already."

I was frozen.

Angelo got up from the bed. I walked over to a drawer. Threw something on the sheets.

An envelope from Manila.

"What is this?"

"Proof." His voice sounded like steel. "Giovanna took photographs. She has been keeping an eye on us. And she already presented them to Salvatore."

I looked at the pictures.

Me. Him. The kiss in the church.

I gazed up at him, blood drained. "You knew?"

"I've been waiting for it."

"Why?"

Angelo said bluntly, "Because now he's going to test me." "He'll let me choose." "Kill your father or lose everything."

I fell onto the bed. "You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?"

He crouched in front of me. His fingertips brushed my knee.

I asked, my voice shaking, "If I say yes, would you kill him?"

He looked at me.

Then he said, "Tell me the truth, Rory." Do you want him to die?

I shook my head, tears blazing. "I don't know."

"I believe you do."

"He's my dad."

"And he sold you like meat."

I hit him again.

He didn't smile this time.

He just stood there. Cold. Distant.

He said, "Get your things together." "You can't sleep here tonight."

I looked up at him. "Why?"

"Because I'm going to make you mine tomorrow."

"What?"

"Salvatore is setting a trap." He wants me to kill Maddox at the wedding and then marry you in front of the family.

My heart stopped. "Tomorrow?"

He nodded.

"I won't do it," I said quietly. "I won't walk down that aisle."

"You will."

"Angelo-"

He grabbed my face in both hands. He kissed me like it was the last time he would ever get the chance.

Then whispered- "Because I won't let you die for a man who let you suffer."

-

We rode all night without saying a word. His automobile is bulletproof. The windows are tinted. His fingers were twitching on the shifter like a bomb going off.

"Where are we going?"

"To a safe house." Somewhere Gio can't find you."

"Why now?" I asked. "Why protect me now?"

"Because I'm not ready to lose you."

The automobile changed lanes.

The tires shrieked.

Then there was a bang.

We ducked down.

A bullet broke the back window.

Angelo pressed the brakes. Took out his gun. "Stay down."

"Who"

He didn't say anything.

We were stuck. Two automobiles that are black. One ahead. One behind.

Trap.

I saw a flash of raven hair step out of the shadows.

Giovanna.

With a phone in one hand. And a gun on the other hand.

My mouth got dry. "She came after us."

"She led us."

"Angelo-"

"Don't move."

I looked out the window.

Her bright eyes were fixed on mine. Her lips curled.

She said two words with her mouth.

"You're dead."

After that, she raised the gun.

And pointed.

Not at me.

At Angelo.

The gun went off.

There was blood on the windshield.

My scream cut through the night.