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The rest of Gabi’s skin was fully covered, from her neck down to her fingers and toes. So it was hard to guess the extent of her injuries. But what was visible was horrific.
“I keep seeing it even now, the flames…and this sinister face coming for me.”
Ana shuddered at the terrifying image, her skin crawling as she tried to wrap her mind around everything the girl had gone through. There were many rumors about what had happened to Gabi. The official story was that she had experienced a similar, but separate attack from her parents’. But no one knew when or how it had occurred.
Ana realized now that she’d been caught in the same explosion.
She didn't know what to say; she couldn’t say anything that wasn’t incredibly trite. So they sat in silence, hand in hand, as the minutes ticked past.
“I’m glad that at least you and Gio are fine,” Gabi said croakily.
“That will be you and Tony soon,” Ana said fervently.
But the girl’s expression was closed. “Gio is too busy for another round of festivities,” she said obliquely. “He’s probably waiting for Tony to take over Pittsburgh first. But that’s all far away.” She waved a hand. “You both should enjoy your newlywed life and focus on each other. Knowing my brother, you’ll have to drag him out of the office every few days to make sure he’s alive.”
They both giggled.
“He’s so serious, just like you. Two peas in a pod.” Gabriella nudged her arm affectionately. “I really am glad you two are getting along. For a while there, I was afraid–that, like you, he was going through with the marriage because he had to.”
Ana smiled, feeling the edges of her lips strain.
Chapter 5
Two Years Ago
Why was he marrying her?
An orphan. A woman too shy and quiet for leadership.
That’s what their families were whispering furiously about, dissecting her from every angle. But Ana bowed her head resolutely over the sewing machine, losing herself to the lulling hum. The low sound drowned out all the thoughts inside her head, dulling the rising anxiety inside her.
One row of stitches–done. Two rows of stitches–done. She counted each one, tugging at the fabric to check for any slack. And then pumped the pedal again as she repositioned the bodice.
A prickle of awareness crept up her spine. Without pausing, she glanced over her shoulder…and inhaled at the imposing presence there.
Gio emerged from the shadows, watching her slight hands move skillfully over the machine. When she hesitated, he flicked his hand, encouraging her to continue.
Ana felt that odd mixture of fear and thrill surge through her again in his company. Especially when he chose to sit in the chair directly in front of her. He crossed his legs and observed her intently.
His curly black hair fell over his eyes, putting her at a disadvantage as she could not easily observe him in return.
“Are–are the betrothal discussions still going on?” she inquired hesitantly. Their families had been meeting all morning to finalize their engagement details.
“Hm.”
He seemed distracted, deeply engrossed with the movements of her hands over the sewing machine. Flustered, she averted her gaze back to the dress. She shifted the fabric to the right angle and reengaged the machine, trying her best to focus on the task at hand.
“I didn’t know you handmade each dress,” he remarked.
“Oh. Yes. I’m up to about three orders a month. It’s becoming steady work.” Ana smiled, happy with the progress.
“Admirable.”
Their eyes met, and she saw the sincerity there. If there was anything she had learned about Gio thus far, it was that he had no time for false flattery. He was ruthlessly honest, to a fault.
“Thank you,” she murmured, flushed with warmth.
Very few knew of her hobby-turned-business. Her aunt thought it was a waste of time, especially now that she was poised to become the wife of a high-ranking Family man. She kept insisting that Ana sell off the inventory to one of their friends and start over as a housewife–or rather, a trophy wife.
