Page 51 of Revenge
I ignore my mother’s screech of horror behind me and step into the downpour. Throw myself against the railing to peer over.
Oh, God.
I cover my mouth to catch the sob.
He’s there. Standing in the rain, leaning against a beautiful, cherry red convertible, staring up at me.
“Antonio!” I shout.
People are watching. Camera flashes go off. The paparazzi must be camped out, along with Antonio.
I see Bea there, too. She’s climbing out of Antonio’s car, like she was the one managing the music. She waves her arm in a giant arc.
Antonio spreads both hands. “Dahlia. Please come down.”
I look over my shoulder. “I can’t. There are guards at the door.”
More flashbulbs go off. The press is getting every word of this.
I see the sudden danger in Antonio as his shoulders stiffen, and he pushes away from the car.
“No, wait!” I don’t want any more bloodshed. Not on my account.
I throw one leg over the balcony railing.
“No, Principessa!” Antonio lunges into traffic, causing cars to screech to a halt as he bolts across the road.
“Catch me,” I challenge. We’re only three floors up. I know without a shadow of a doubt Antonio won’t let me fall.
“No, no, no! Wait, Dahlia!”
I don’t wait. I slip off the slick balcony, screaming and flailing at the swift plunge. Air rushes past me, the sidewalk rushes up to meet me.
I fall squarely in Antonio’s arms. My weight knocks him to the ground, and we tangle on the wet cement.
His lips find my ear, his arms squeeze me so tight I can’t breathe. “Dahlia… Dahlia. My wild, feisty bride. My love.”
“Antonio. I’m sorry about The Honeymoon.”
Antonio gives a soft laugh, rolling me over to face him. Our clothes are soaked, and he’s on his back in a puddle. “The yacht or our actual event?”
“I mean what happened.” Tears fill my eyes. “I shouldn’t have sent word to my father. ”
He cradles my face and pulls my lips down to his. “No, no, no, amore. You did nothing wrong. I had no right to take you against your will. Forgive me.”
I nod, tears spilling down my already wet cheeks. “I forgive you. Do you forgive me?”
“Nothing to forgive. You are perfect.”
A crowd of people has gathered around us now. Flashbulbs still go off.
Antonio lifts me off him to get to his feet and help me stand. His hands coast over me, his gaze rakes over my body. “Are you hurt?”
I shake my head.
He extends a hand in the direction of his car across the street. “Your chariot awaits, my lady.”
Someone bursts into applause nearby, cheering at the top of her lungs.