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Damn Aunt Helena.
She for sure ratted me out. Her intentions were pure—I know that—but it still sucks she didn’t speak with me first to give me a little heads-up or the opportunity to beg her not to tell my father.
I bite into my lip, tasting where Antonio’s thumb lingered, and debate on asking my father if what Antonio told me was true. That he killed a man for me and then asked for my father to trade me like I was a prized horse or something.
I can’t now. It’ll confirm I’m a liar.
“Do you understand?” my father repeats, breaking me away from my thoughts. “No speaking to other men,especiallya Lombardi.”
“What’s wrong with the Lombardis?” I ask. “Aren’t you civil with them?”
“Civil? Yes. But I don’t trust them.”
“And once Vinny takes over, the Lombardi family is fucked,” Benny adds.
My father nods in agreement. “We’ve kept our distance from them, and when Vinny gains control of their family, we’ll have nothing to do with them.”
My stomach knots.
Do the Lombardis know that?
My guess is no.
“Can I go now? I promise to keep all words to myself,” I say with too much sarcasm.
“Lose the attitude.” My father works his jaw. “You can go.”
I stand, ready to leave, but stop. “What happens when I want to marry?”
I’ve never mentioned marriage to my father, mostly out of fear of giving him the idea that I want him to choose a husband for me. It’s one of those conversations that dangles in the air, yet neither of us wants to grab it.
Benny pours himself a drink.
My father falls silent.
My cheeks redden.
“Get some sleep,” he finally says. “It’s late. We’ll save that conversation for another time.”
I leave his office without another word.
My mind races as I walk through our home, known as the Marchetti Mansion. I grew up in this home, where Benny, my father, and I have private wings. While some call it intimidating, almost castle-like, it’s my sanctuary.
My mother designed it, meticulously selecting every detail. It’s what I’d refer to as Gothic romantic if that were an actual term. The limited natural lighting reminds me of late nights in a historical library. It’s just …comfortable. People are always in awe of the massive marble staircase. When I was a little girl, I’d imagine I was climbing it up to heaven to visit her.
My head is nearly spinning when I reach my bedroom. When I was born, my mother made my father promise never to marry me off. Unlike her, she wanted me to find my own love, not be forced into it for the sake of a business contract. Her wish was for me to experience the fairy-tale love she wasn’t allowed.
Just because he promised her he wouldn’t select my husband doesn’t mean I get to choose him either. If I come home one dayand tell him I want to marry a cop, that cop will mysteriously die in a random crime.
A member of a rival family? He’ll go missing.
Sure, I can love someone, but it’s clear my father has the last say. And if what Antonio told me was true and from our conversation in the office, my father will never allow me to marry Antonio. Whether I want to or not.
Tonight is the Mayor’s Ball.
My father was invited, but since he loathes public events, he always sends Benny in his place. The problem is that Benny also hates them.
Unlike the men in my life, I love public events, so I’m always Benny’s plus-one.
