all suddenly hits me. My emotions finally crash through the numbness, and I let out a howl of pain.
Slipping to the floor, I cry uncontrollably until the door flings open and Imogen races in. She drops to the floor and scoops me into her arms, and I cry hard into her shoulder.
“How do I do this?” I sob.
Imogen squeezes me tighter. “We’ll do it together.”
The pain is torturous.
“I want him back,” I say through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to do this without him. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair.”
“I know, honey. I know.”
My face crumples but I am able to control it. I straighten and suck in a deep breath.
“Why?” I look at my best friend. “Why did she do it?”
“She was in love with him.”
“I had no idea.”
Imogen’s face is sympathetic as she says gently, “I don’t think anyone did.”
I have a moment of stark clarity.
“I have to see her. I have to know why she wanted me dead.”
I try to stand, but Imogen stops me. “Bella—”
“I need to know.”
“Bella…”
“She killed my husband—”
“She’s dead, Bella.”
I stare at my best friend in disbelief. “Dead?”
“They found her in her cell this morning.”
My head swims as I struggle to process what I am hearing, and for a moment I wonder if her death is retribution. If the power that is the Lastrantonio clan has moved quickly and lethally to exact its revenge on Anastacia for murdering their king. But I doubt it. Alessandro never tolerated violence against women, and it was something he would expect to be honored in his death.
“Also, Cristian is here,” Imogen says and my face crumples again when I think about seeing Alessandro’s brother. I exhale deeply to steady myself, and Imogen tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Why don’t you take a moment to process this a little more. Have a shower. Put on something comfortable. Ari and I can keep Cristian company until you’re feeling a bit stronger.”
I nod, knowing I need to pull myself together. “Thank you.”
My best friend presses a kiss to my hair and then leaves me so I can shower and get my shit together. But it’s a lot easier in theory than in practice. Because everything reminds me of Alessandro, and I wonder how on Earth I’m going to get through this.
Brokenhearted, I slide down the marble-tiled wall and fall into a heap on the wet floor.
Yeah, I have to pull myself together, but first, I’m going to let myself fall apart.
25
Bella
I stall when I walk into the room and see Cristian seated at the dining table with Imogen and Ari.
Tears spill down my cheeks.
When he stands, I go to him and his arms pull me in a warm embrace.
“It happened so fast,” I sob.
“It’s going to be okay, Bella.” His voice is dark and grim, but also comforting.
I shake my head. How is anything ever going to be okay again?
He gently pushes me back so he can look me in the eye, his hands firm on my arms, his voice calm. “I need to take you somewhere.”
I feel vague and empty, and it makes me almost docile. “Where?”
“I can’t tell you. But I need you to trust me, okay?”
I’m so numb I simply nod.
“I’m coming with you,” Imogen says, standing up.
“Me too,” adds Ari, also rising to his feet.
“No, just Bella,” Cristian says in a tone that means business. He looks at them. “I’ll make sure she is safe.”
I go with him, certain I am going to be okay. But to my horror he leads me right into the hornets’ nest of paparazzi waiting outside. I can’t hide the tears and the grief as he pulls me through the throng of people into an awaiting car. Tears stream down my cheeks again, and I know my eyes are raw from lack of sleep and heartache.
“Why did you do that?” I cry when we’re safely inside and hidden behind the tinted glass. “You should’ve warned me that we were going out the front entrance.”
“I’m sorry, Bella.” His jaw clenches, like he hates what he is doing but is compelled to do it. “But time is of the essence.”
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“There are things that need to be done.”
He’s talking about funeral arrangements. I turn my face away from him, trying to stop my chin from quaking, because Alessandro’s funeral is the last thing I want to think about.
“There are things you need to know,” Cristian says.
It’s such an ambiguous thing to say.
“What do you