Page 11

The music stops, and everyone claps and shouts. I thank the girls and get one last glass of water before I exit the club. I’m sweaty and hot, and the driver is waiting for me outside.

Teenage Dream starts playing, and I’m almost tempted to go back in, but instead I decide to skip the rest of pop hour and get in the car. We go home, and I look out the window.

I’m a full-of-myself rich asshole too; there’s no way around it.

I check the time as we pull up to the house, and I see it’s five in the morning. I get out of the car, and the sky is already lightening in the distance.

I enter the house and slam the door behind me. I don’t give a shit if my brothers are sleeping. I stomp through the house, my anger surging again.

If he gets to marry me off without any input from me, then he doesn’t get fucking rest. And no, you know what, I’m not going to marry Michael Russo, not even for those fucking casinos. I’ll move out and become independent. I can support myself with cooking and baking and monetizing my vlog.

When I get up to my room, I slam the door for good measure before I peel my clothes off and fall into bed, curling up under the covers.

I don’t stay asleep for long. I feel icky and sweaty, and it wakes me up, so I go shower around nine and get dressed. I’m ready to tell Andrea my decision and see how he likes it when his decisions are made for him.

Andrea is already in his study when I walk in without knocking.

He looks up, then back at his papers. “Morning.”

I stand in the doorway. “We need to talk.”

Andrea doesn’t look up again but waves to the seats in front of his desk.

The stale smell of cigars and whiskey hangs in the air as I sit down in front of him. I don’t let him speak first, cutting him off as he opens his mouth.

“I’m not going to marry Michael Russo. You can’t make me. I’d rather cut ties with the family and get my own place than do that. I’d rather be on my own.” The words rush out of my mouth before I lose my resolve.

Andrea’s head snaps up, and he glares at me. “Like fucking hell you will,” he snarls, standing up as he slams his hands on the table. “We are family and family don’t cut ties. We belong together, and you will do as I fucking say and you will marry Michael Russo.”

“Andrea, you can’t force…”

“I can, and I am. You have no say in the matter, Guilia.” He uses my full name, and I flinch away from him. “You will marry Michael for the good of this family, and you will settle down with him and provide him with a family. I knew I shouldn’t have let you start that stupid vlog. I gave you too much independence, and now you think you’re too good to help the family, without which you wouldn’t have anything to begin with.”

I frown in anger. “Andrea, I’m not a piece of meat you can auction off to the highest bidder. I’m not some prize cattle.”

“You are my sister, and as such you will serve this family as this family sees fit. Gia, I’m not arguing with you on this. You will do this; there is no room for argument. If you try to cut ties, I will make your life a living hell, and you know I can.”

I stand up and storm out of the office in tears. They’re angry tears because it doesn’t matter what I say to him; he’s going to defend his position by using our family to hide behind.

I swipe at my wet cheeks with force and march right into the gym. I tie my hair in a ponytail and wrap my hands before I start training. First, a five-mile jog on the treadmill among other exercises before I take on the dummy.

It doesn’t know what’s hit it when I start fighting against it with all my force, pretending it’s Andrea I’m fighting. A dry laugh escapes me as I punch it again. Who am I kidding? Even in hand-to-hand combat, Andrea would kick my ass. He’s been training a lot longer than I have.

This infuriates me even more, and I batter the exercise dummy with everything I have. When the seams on the dummy eventually split, I step back, my lungs, arms, and legs aching.

I’m spent now, dripping with sweat and angry tears. I go upstairs to shower again, then dress in something casual before heading downstairs and to my kitchen outside.

I set up to record and then pull out and arrange the ingredients for my apple crumble cake. It takes me about half an hour to get settled, and I’m about to hit record when the door opens and Andrea walks in.

“Gia, good you’re here,” he says, looking at his phone. “You’re going on a date with Michael Russo tonight. His father requested it.”

“I’m not going. I have plans,” I say, turning away, but glancing over my shoulder at him.

This makes Andrea look up from his phone with a frown. “Gia, we’re not doing this again. You’ll wear something nice.” His voice is firm.

“No.” I cross my arms over my chest.

Andrea sets his phone down and comes around the island to where I’m standing. “Gia, acquiring these casinos will mean everything to the family. It will propel us forward into a more secure future.”