I took a sip of wine -- a 2015 Barolo -- and let my gaze drift around the table.Everyone was performing their assigned roles.Mama, the gracious hostess.Luca, the dutiful son.The guests, appropriately impressed by Lombardi wealth and power.
And me?I was the wild card.The unpredictable element that made Papa’s jaw tighten every time I opened my mouth.
The first course arrived, some elaborate carpaccio arrangement that looked more like art than food.I pushed it around my plate with my fork, not bothering to actually eat.My appetite had vanished the moment I’d walked in and seen the setup.This wasn’t a normal family dinner.The guests were too carefully selected.Papa was too tense beneath his cordial exterior.Mama’s smile was too brittle.
Something was coming.
I didn’t have to wait long.
Papa stood as the second course was being cleared, his chair scraping against marble with a sound that commanded immediate attention.The table fell silent.Even the servants froze in their movements, plates suspended mid-collection.
“I want to thank you all for joining us tonight.”His voice carried the weight of authority earned through decades of making decisions that ended lives.“Family is everything to us.Our legacy, our strength, our future.”
I felt my spine stiffen.Oh, here it came.
“Which is why I’m pleased to announce an alliance that will strengthen the Lombardi name and secure our position for generations to come.”He turned slightly, his gaze landing on me with the weight of inevitability.“My daughter Caterina will marry Marco Vitale in three months’ time.”
The words hit me like a physical blow.My fingers tightened around the stem of my wine glass until I felt it might shatter.The room tilted slightly, or maybe that was just my perception narrowing to a single point of rage and disbelief.
Married.To Marco fucking Vitale.In three months.
I watched Marco’s smile widen, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he raised his own glass in a mock toast.The smug bastard had known.Had probably been in on the planning.Had sat there all evening watching me like I was already his property.
“No.”The word escaped before I could stop it, cutting through the polite applause that had started around the table.
Papa’s expression didn’t change, but I saw the warning flash in his eyes.“Caterina --”
“No,” I said again, louder this time.My chair scraped back as I half-stood, my hands pressed flat against the table.The wine glass wobbled.“Absolutely fucking not.”
Mama made a small sound of distress.“Caterina, language --”
“Language?”I let out a laugh that sounded slightly unhinged even to my own ears.“That’s what you’re worried about right now?Not the fact that Papa just announced he’s selling me off to” -- I gestured at Marco with one hand --”to him?”
“You will watch your tone.”Papa’s voice remained level, but there was steel underneath.The same tone he used when ordering hits.“This alliance is beneficial for everyone involved.”
“Beneficial for the family, you mean.”My breathing had gone shallow, my chest tight beneath the black silk.“Not for me.Never for me.”
Marco leaned back in his chair, that infuriating smile still in place.“Come now, Caterina.Is marriage to me really such a terrible fate?I’m quite wealthy, well-connected, and I think you’ll find I can be very… generous with the right motivation.”
The condescension in his voice made my vision go red.“The right motivation?What, you think you can buy me like Papa bought this fucking chandelier?”
“Enough.”Papa’s hand came down on the table hard enough to rattle the china.“You will not embarrass this family with your theatrics.The arrangement is made.You will accept it.”
“Like hell I will.”I was fully standing now, my entire body vibrating with rage.“You want to know what I know about Marco?Should I share with the table?About the girl he put in the hospital last year?Or the drug deals he’s running without family approval?Or maybe we should discuss his charming habit of frequenting brothels where the girls are barely legal?”
The color drained from Marco’s face, his smile finally faltering.“You lying little --”
“Careful.”My voice came out deadly quiet.“Finish that sentence and I’ll make sure everyone in this room knows exactly what kind of man you’re trying to marry me off to.”Because despite what I’d already said, I knew there was much more, and far worse.
“Caterina Rosa Lombardi.”Papa’s voice cracked like a whip.“You will sit down.You will apologize.And you will accept that this marriage is happening whether you like it or not.”
I met his eyes across the table -- the same green as mine, but cold where mine burned.“I’d rather die.”
“That can be arranged,” he said softly, and I knew he meant it.Not directly, maybe.But there were accidents.Disappearances.Ways to remove problems that embarrassed the family.
Luca stood then.“Papa, maybe we should discuss this --”
“Sit down, Luca.”Papa didn’t even look at him.“This doesn’t concern you.”
