When I look at her, her eyes are filled with tears and I walk to her to hug her.“I am sorry, sis.I have to… I will always miss you but this is something I have to do for myself.Please don’t be mad at me.”
Her tears spill over her smooth cheeks.“I know, Lee, but you are the only one here preventing me from going crazy.What will I do without you?”She sobs softly.I feel my own tears falling.
“I am so sorry… I will find a way to contact you and have you visit me once things have settled down, okay?You can even come to live with me.”
She snorts.“As if Mama would let me.She will sell me off to the highest bidder.That is, if she hasn’t dieted me to death before then.”
We give a sad laugh and it is bittersweet.It is true—Daria has an obsession with carbs.And her biggest fear is her daughter not fitting in her wedding gown, never mind that there is no gown yet, or even a groom.And never mind that Chiara is perfect in every way.
“Where will you go?”
I hesitate.“I can’t tell you, sis.Not because I don’t want to, but to avoid getting you in trouble.Damiano… I mean, Mr.Santaluccia has means to make you talk, so the less you know, the less leverage he has.”I kiss her cheek.“Keep your mother off my back as long as possible tomorrow.Can you do that for me?”
She nods.
“I love you.”My voice breaks.
“Love you, too.Please be careful.”
Then we hug one last time, and she slips out to her room while I take a long look around mine.It’s simple, untouched, a soft pink room from when I was nine, the walls still holding on to a childhood that I have long outgrown.I never bothered to ask for a new paint job.In truth, I planned to leave this place one day, but it seems that day has arrived sooner than expected.
I grab two pairs of jeans, some shorts, a few T-shirts and tank tops, pushing aside the designer dresses Chiara passed down to me.Those were never meant for me anyway.They were bought on shopping sprees that meant nothing beyond the prestige of their labels.
I don’t have much jewelry, only a few pieces with sentimental value.Nothing I could sell to float me, just memories tucked away in metal and stone.
I have some cash stashed away, barely sufficient to keep me going for a while, not nearly enough to start a new life.If I am going to make this work, I will need to withdraw more, but that’s easier said than done.No doubt Damiano has unlimited resources at his disposal to track me down.I’ve read enough thrillers to know that a digital trace can be followed—every click, every transaction can be chased.I need to be careful and leave my phone and computer behind, making sure no breadcrumbs lead back to me.My mind races as I pull my phone out, thinking about what I need to do.
First, I give Penelope a quick call.She’s always been supportive, and I trust her.I keep it short, telling her I need to take a break and won’t be available for a while.She doesn’t ask questions, but she wishes me well.
Then I grab my notebook and write down a few important contacts, people I might need when I’m starting over.It’s the only way I’ll be able to reach out if things go south.
I have a plan.It’s risky, but it’s my only option.
Chapter Twelve
Damiano
Saturday arrives at last, and I can’t suppress a feeling of contentment.The week following my return from New York has been relentless.I’ve had meetings, phone calls and all the usual business to handle, but none of it truly mattered.Not when my mind has been occupied with her, my little flower.
After a week of unsuccessful meetings in New York, the first thing I did when I returned was to call Francesco to let him know about my plans.Tradition would dictate that I ask him for Lily’s hand.But I’m the fucking head of the Boston families.I don’t need anyone’s permission, least of all his.I didn’t ask—I informed him that I was coming to claim what is mine.
The man has not offered any resistance, not that I expected any.It is an honor to marry into a powerful family like mine.If anything, people will wonder why I am willing to tie myself to the modest Bianchis.To the mistress’ daughter, no less.I don’t care if this alliance brings me no power, no money, no connections.I don’t need more money or more power.I have it all, and the only thing I don’t have and crave more than oxygen is her.
Hence here I am, parking my Bentley in the driveway to her father’s home, a small velvet box weighing my pocket down.
How will she react?She has had time to get used to the idea.Surely she will accept my ring with grace.I have been patient with her.She must have realized it by now.
Maybe she’ll smile at me, those stunning green eyes softening, her lips curving into that enticing little smile of hers.She’ll be pleased, obviously.Who wouldn’t?
I’ll be the perfect gentleman, of course.I’ll take her small, delicate hand in mine.I’ll kiss her cheek, whisper all the right words, the ones any woman is waiting to hear, always dreamed of hearing, on her engagement day.
Tonight I am invincible.
She is going to be mine.Soon.
The front door swings open as soon as I step out of the car, and Francesco and his wife, Daria, greet me with smiles that don’t quite reach their eyes.It’s all carefully rehearsed, but I’m too focused on my objective to let it bother me.
I shake both of their hands firmly, deliberately ignoring Daria’s outstretched cheek.Fuck that, I have no interest in touching that bitch more than necessary.I can already feel her fake sweetness radiating from her, but I don’t let it faze me.I’m not here for pleasantries or politeness.I’m here to do what needs to be done and nothing’s going to derail me from that.
