Page 9 of Reaper’s Wrath

I am a horrible human being, worse than the city sludge tainting the bottom of her shoes.

What exactly did I plan to say if D had stuck around? Why on earth did I call him back rather than crucify him for crossing a line he should never have approached?

“You looking for something? I can grab the attendant if you need her,” Rina asks after seeing my gaze scan the room when she rounds the corner.

“What? No. No, I’m good.” I force a smile and swallow back a swell of self-loathing.

“Let’s see the dress.” She motions for me to circle and give her a view of the back.

“Too much lace, I think.”

“Agreed, but the train is gorgeous.”

“Yeah,” I agree distractedly and try to refocus on what I’m supposed to be doing. “Okay, next one.” I shuffle back behind the curtains, and Rina continues to chat with me while I change.

“How’s your dad doing?” she calls through the fabric wall.

“Good. He’s dealing with house repairs, and that makes him grumpy, but otherwise, he’s good.”

I worry what might happen to him once I’m not living there. He has a heart condition and is bad about taking his medicine unless I fuss at him. He was diagnosed not long after Renzo Donati became boss of the Moretti family. Renzo needed Dad’s help with the transition of power, and Dad didn’t want to let Renzo down, so he kept quiet about the diagnosis. He assumed once Renzo settled in, a new underboss and consigliere would be appointed—men who were a trusted part of Renzo’s inner circle and part of the younger generation. Five years have passed, and that never happened.

“That’s good to hear, and I understand his frustration. Renovation projects are such a pain, and the damage those Russians did was extensive. I hate that he’s having to deal with that, but man am I glad he had that safe room.”

I nod, though she can’t see me. “That was the first time I’ve ever had to use it, and I hope I never do again.” We’re both quiet for a moment before I continue. “Well, this is interesting.”

“Show me!”

I open the curtain and stare at her, my lips a thin, grim line. Seconds of silence tick by before we both burst into laughter.

“Oh God. Why does it look like tassels on your ta-tas?”

“No clue, but that’s an easy no.”

“Oh, come on. That would make things awfully interesting.”

I pause as if considering it. “Yeah, that’s a no.”

“Party pooper.”

I stick my tongue out at her and close myself back inside the dressing room. I continue trying on dresses until I put on an elegant long-sleeved gown that takes my breath away. The chiffon fabric of the flowing skirt also descends from the shoulders like a pseudo-cape, reminding me of the 1940s Hollywood glamour girls like Rita Hayworth and Katharine Hepburn, whom my mom loved so much. The bodice and upper sleeves are in a subtle lace that complements the plunging V neckline, which extends nearly to the belted waist.

I feel like the embodiment of female grace in this gown.

Rina must feel the same because when I spread the curtains wide and step into the brightly lit sitting area, her jaw hits the floor.

“Oh, Isa,” she breathes. “That’s the one.”

“Yeah.”

Two silent heartbeats thud by before she jumps to her feet. “D needs to see this.”

“Wait, what?”

She’s around the corner before I can voice the words to stop her. Panic races like a river from my scalp down to my fingers and toes.

What will he say? What will he do? Will she be able to tell that something is going on between us?

Is there something going on?