CHAPTER NINE

Damiano's eyes slowly opened as he blinked against the morning light.

He turned his head toward me, and my whole body went stiff. His gaze was hazy at first, still clouded with sleep and whatever alcohol he had drunk the night before.

Then he saw me. I was still in my half-undone dress, rose petals stuck to my skin.

His brow furrowed. "Gabrielle?"

I flinched when I heard my name. It sounded strange coming from his lips.

Damiano sat up slowly as the sheets fell around his waist. He rubbed his face and winced, probably from a pounding headache. When he looked at me again, he looked confused.

"What happened?" he asked. "Why are you dressed like that?"

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. My throat felt like sandpaper. The tears I thought I had already cried started forming behind my eyes again.

Damiano looked at me. His eyes moved from my open zipper to my wrinkled dress, then to the way I was trying to hide on the bed. His expression changed from confusion to something darker.

"Gabrielle," he said again, sharper this time. "What happened last night?"

I could not keep pretending anymore.

My hands trembled as I pushed myself up. The ring on my finger glittered in the light, I stared at it.

"You and I just got married," I whispered.

Damiano froze. "What?"

I forced myself to look into his eyes. "You didn't marry Elena. You married me."

His face went pale, then red. "That's not funny."

"It's not a joke." My voice cracked. "My father made me do it. He said if I did not take Elena's place, the family would be ruined."

"Stop." Damiano held up his hand; his jaw was tight. "Are you telling me I married the wrong woman?"

I nodded as tears ran down my cheeks. "I tried to tell you last night…I begged you to stop. I said my name, but you did not hear me, and you kept calling me Elena."

He stared at me like I had just hit him. His face went through many emotions too quickly for me to read: shock, confusion, and then something that made my blood turn cold.

Anger…

Damiano jumped out of bed. His body was shaking. "Where is Elena?"

"How long have you known?" He paced around the room like a trapped animal. "How long have you been lying to me?"

"Damiano…"

"Don't." He turned on me, his eyes wild. "Do not say my name like you have any right to it."

I flinched as if he had slapped me. "Please, you have to understand; I had no choice. My father…"

"Your father?" Damiano laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Do you think that makes it better? You came into my home and into my bed, pretending to be someone else. Do you have any idea what this means?"

I shook my head and moved back against the headboard.

"Everyone saw us get married," he continued, his voice rising. "My family, your family and the press. If the truth comes out, I will be ruined and my reputation will be destroyed. And what about the contracts? The deals that were made because of this marriage?"

"Please," I begged. "I never wanted any of this. My father forced me."

"Of course he did." Damiano stopped pacing. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides. "That is what you all do, is it not? You use people like pawns in your little games."

"That's not fair…"

"Fair?" He turned to face me fully, and the look in his eyes made my heart stop. "Do you think any of this is fair? I spent months courting Elena, and I fell in love with her, only for me to find out I married her sister."

The word hit me like a physical blow as tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall. I had cried enough for a lifetime.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I never wanted to hurt you."

He grabbed a shirt from the floor; he did not even look at me. I was invisible to him now; I was just the woman who had ruined his life.

"Damiano," I said softly. "Please. Let me explain."

He stopped and turned his head. His eyes were so cold they made me shiver.

"There is nothing to explain," he said. "You lied. Your family lied. I do not know what kind of game you are playing, but I am done."

"Please," I begged again. My voice cracked. "I know you are angry and you have every right to be. But Elena is not innocent in this; she knew what my father was planning. She agreed to it."

Damiano froze. His eyes narrowed.

"What did you say?"

I swallowed hard, but my throat was dry. "Elena knew; she did not want to marry you."

The words hung in the air between us. Damiano's face went blank.

"You are lying," he said.

"I am not," I said, standing up, but my legs felt weak as I grabbed the bedpost for support. "Ask her yourself."

Damiano opened his mouth to respond, but the sharp ring of his phone cut through the tension. We both turned to look at it. The screen glowed on the nightstand.

Then I saw the name displayed.

Elena.

Damiano's anger vanished and was replaced by shock. He crossed the room in three quick steps and grabbed the phone. His fingers fumbled as he answered.

"Elena?" His voice was breathless and desperate.

I watched his face change into something tender, something that was never there when he looked at me.

On the other end of the line, I could hear muffled sobs, even from where I sat. I could tell Elena was crying.

"Damiano..." Her voice was barely audible, but I heard it. "Please help me.”

Damiano glanced at me briefly, and I saw the conflict in his eyes as his grip on the phone tightened.