Page 3 of Wicked Villain

Breathing is something. Better than panicking. Breathing means I am still alive. At least in all the ways that matter to Papa.

“Sweetheart, please, push your shoulders back.” Mama strokes the center of my back. “We’re almost done.”

I lift my head and glance at her. The comment was undoubtedly meant to soothe me. It didn’t. All it did was remind me there’s a ticking clock hanging over my head.

Getting dressed is the easy part.

“Look at you.” A proud smile brightens my mother’s face, but her eyes reflect the same dread I feel. She can’t hide that any more than I can. She places one hand over her heart and the other to my cheek. “You look breathtaking.”

Even I can’t disagree. The long, sleeveless crimson gown I’m wearing is a one-of-a-kind couture design from Dior. Most of the girls I know would sell their souls to wear something like this. But to me, it’s just another prop on my father’s stage. A beautiful thing to make me look like the perfect daughter. To make me look like her.

My sister.

Tonight is the prelude to a wedding that was supposed to be hers. In a month’s time, I’ll have to go through the same trepidation when I take Danillo Bellandi’s name.

Tonight, when he slides his ring on my finger, he’ll stake his official claim on me in front of everyone in the alliance. A symbol of unity between two of the most powerful families in the Sicilian mafia. The significance of such an event goes well past New York, stretching all the way across the seas to Sicily. The hundred people who have gathered in our home will bear witness to that tonight.

I always knew I’d have an arranged marriage to one of the men in the alliance. Marriage is the essence of my duty. But that’s not the part I’m worried about. I’m not even worried that my soon-to-be husband is a vile, abusive bastard I wouldn’t spit on if he were on fire.

The worry is me. Me and the big secret I carry.

I’m not the woman Danillo thinks I am.

I’m a lie. And tonight is the final act of deception.

My stomach twists violently, and I suddenly feel numb. I can’t even feel the press of my mother’s hand to my cheek.

“Principessa,” Mama whispers. “Please, try to stay calm. You are going to be alright.”

Slowly, I nod. “Don’t worry about me, Mama. I’m just… nervous. That’s all.”

“I know, tesoro mio. I know.” She taps my cheek and tilts her head, her expression becoming more cautious. I see myself in her.

Same high cheekbones, hair, and eye color, and the same thick brows that make us appear more pensive when we’re unsettled.

“Everything is happening so fast.” I huff out a haggard sigh. “I wish it weren’t. The wedding will be here before we know it. Then I’ll be living with Danillo. As his wife.”

“Try not to worry about that.” She smiles wider. Another smile for show. “At least we know these men of ours are more married to their work than us.”

She’s trying to be lighthearted, so I give her a faint smile. I don’t want her to worry about me. Worrying will only make her condition worse.

The thought kicks my mind in gear, reminding me that I’m doing this for her.

Not that I had much choice in the matter of marriage, but I comply because of Mama. I don’t want Papa to punish me by stopping her medical treatments. We all know she’d die if that happened.

So, marriage it is. I’ll marry the monster my sister was supposed to marry. For Mama.

And I’ll take my secrets to my grave. Danillo Bellandi will never know the truth. That my twin sister was the girl who died that dreadful night four years ago, not me.

Like everyone else, except my parents, Danillo will continue believing that I am Gabrielle D’Auria. Papa keeps reminding me: this is the least I can do for my family.

After all, it’s my fault my sister is dead.

I steel my spine and drag in a quick breath.

“I would never ask this of you if the power were mine.” Mama’s eyes brim with unshed tears. “Not even for me.”

“I know.”