Page 107 of Disgrace

A man who Siena thought would suit a position like a boss’s seat far better than Darren. John, who commanded attention without needing to change his image to suit the needs of others in order to make his position and demands clear.

John was who John was.

Darren, on the other hand, wasn’t quite sure who he was at the moment, but rather, only knew who he needed to be.

“Get up.”

Siena glanced over at her mother’s sharp order. “What?”

Coraline waved at the aisle. “Come on, we have to follow behind the casket. Stop acting like a daydreaming, foolish girl, Siena.”

Jesus.

She pushed out of the pew to quickly follow behind the casket carrying her brother. Darren was one of the pallbearers, along with a few other men he had chosen to do the job with him. She kept her head down as she walked toward the entrance of the church, entirely uninterested in meeting the gazes of those who had come to say goodbye to Kev. The scent of the priest’s incense clung heavily all around them.

Almost over.

She would soon be able to take off her mask again.

Be free again.

Siena’s mother slid in beside her as they continued their trek behind the casket and procession. Coraline’s mask of grief was all but gone in that moment, and instead, a cold, expressionless, and unfeeling one took its place.

For a second, it took Siena by surprise.

Her mother didn’t give her the time to question it before she started talking. And when she did talk, it scared Siena to death.

“You should have been more careful with your business,” her mother murmured. “And by business, I mean Johnathan Marcello.”

Siena swallowed hard, and looked forward. She kept her gaze locked on the back of the shined, gleaming black casket with its gold-plated bars and details. “I have no idea what you’re—”

“Don’t play stupid with me,” Coraline hissed low. All the while, her mother’s face remained impassive. Her voice stayed too low for someone else to overhear, and her expression gave nothing away as to their conversation. Siena could not say her face looked the same. “I will not allow you to ruin what your brother is working so hard for simply because you cannot control your stupid little heart.”

Her mother said the word with so much disgust, that Siena flinched.

“You think this little issue with the Marcello and Calabrese families is new?” Coraline scoffed low, and shook her head subtly. “No, Siena, it is far from new. Years—decades—in the making, really. It started with your grandfather, and then was passed onto your father. He passed it onto your brothers, and finally … Jesus, finally, we have the chance to finish this. To either take a controlling portion, or ruin the Marcello family for good. Except here you are, getting in the goddamn way with that man.”

Coraline sneered, but quickly replaced it with a sad smile when she waved to someone who reached out to touch her arm as she passed. Out of the corner of her mouth, her mother said, “Darren has the Marcellos where he needs them to be—soft, and pliable. Backed into a corner, so to speak. I love you, Siena, and that is the only reason I was willing to turn my cheek about what I knew you were doing, but if you don’t stop, I won’t be able to pretend anymore.”

Siena’s throat tightened more.

Her mother nodded. “And you do know what your brother would do to Johnathan should he find out you have been entertaining the man behind his back, don’t you? I am sure you would hate for your crazy boyfriend—if you could even call him that—to die because of your stupidity.”

“Ma—”

“Shut up,” Coraline hissed.

The two walked out into the sunlight, and quieted for the moment. Siena took the second she had where her mother wasn’t talking to suck in a deep gulp of air. It felt like the breath had been ripped right out of her lungs, and her chest was crushed.

How did her mother know she was still with John?

How had she known anything?

Siena was careful—she had to be. She made sure not to leave anything lying around where someone could find it. She was back at her own place which meant she didn’t have to worry about someone listening through the walls, or just outside the door.

She didn’t take risks.

She didn’t dare.