She whirled toward him, her face instantly draining of color, her eyes glistening with fresh, manufactured tears.
“Dante! Oh, thank God you’re here!” she cried, her voice quivering with a perfect pitch of distress. “I… I tried to stop her! She pushed your mother! I couldn’t pull her off!”
My heart hammered against my ribs. “That’s not true!”
The words burst out of me before I could stop them. I looked up at him, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I was trying to protect her! Serena was kicking her! She was—”
“Shut your mouth!” Serena screamed, pointing a manicured finger at me. “You think you can waltz in here and play hero? You think anyone is going to believe you over me?”She turned back to Dante, clutching her own elbow as if she were the one in pain. “She’s dangerous, Dante. Look at her! She attacked me when I tried to help Rosa! Look at my arm!”
There wasn’t a mark on her. Not one.
Dante’s jaw tightened, a muscle feathering in his cheek. He stepped into the room, the sound of his dress shoes on the marble floor echoing like gunshots. He didn’t look at Serena. He looked at me.
And his gaze was like a predator assessing prey.
“Step away from my mother.”
My stomach plummeted. “Sir, please, you have to listen to me,” I begged, my voice cracking. “Mrs. Rosa is terrified. Check her wrist! Check the bruises!”
