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A genuine smile tugs at my lips. “I suppose so.” I close the gap between us and extend my hand. “I’m Isa. It’s lovely to meet you, Fedele.”

I’m not sure how to shake his massive hand, so I wrap my fingers around his pointer finger as best as I can and grin.

“The honor is mine … call me anytime.” His brows lift as he smirks with amusement at his rhyme.

This kindhearted man sets me at ease and allows a tendril of hope to unfurl in my chest. I've been telling myself this marriage won't be terrible, and maybe I'll even come to enjoy this new direction my life has taken.

“I’ll do that, thank you.” I give him a respectful nod as the front door sweeps open.

“Fedele, I thought I told you to wait in the car,” Mazzi snaps. He can’t see me hidden behind Fedele.

“My legs needed to stretch, and I’m glad I did because I got to meet the future Mrs. Antonelli.” He steps aside to reveal my presence.

The sneer on Mazzi’s face instantly melts away, replaced by smarmy satisfaction. “My beautiful bride.” He comes closer to take my hand and place a quick kiss on my knuckles. “I hope you weren’t wandering out here alone. It’s not safe.” As he steps back, his eyes finally sweep my form, causing him to seemingly glitch as he takes in my ratty clothing.

I gently tug my hand from his and inch backward. “I was about to do some gardening.”

“Ah, I see.” He nods, reassured I wouldn’t otherwise stoop so low as to be seen in such filth without good reason. “If you enjoy flowers, you should see the gardens they have in Sicily. They’re second to none. Did I tell you my family is Sicilian the last time we met?”

Yes. Twice.

“Um … I believe you mentioned something about it.”

“I find it best to clarify. So many losers around here like to imply they’re from the old country to make themselves look good, but it’s all bullshit. Not like me. I’m one-hundred percent bona fide Sicilian.”

I notice my dad behind him, rolling his eyes, and have to stifle a laugh.

“Were you born there?” I ask, curious.

“No. My nona was. Technically, my grandfather was Tuscan, but I don’t take after him.”

Apparently, we have different definitions of "one hundred percent." Not that it matters. His grandparents could be from the moon for all I care.

“That’s good to know. Just one of the many things we’ll be learning about one another, I’m sure.”

“Absolutely. And now that your father and I have all the details worked out, I’d say we’re ready to move forward with the wedding next week. It’s such short notice that we won’t be able to have as big of a gathering as I’d like, but we’ll make it work.”

“We don’t need a big—” I start to say before he cuts me off.

“Of course, we do. We want every man in every outfit in the city to hear about this wedding. Our two families uniting will be a historic event. We’ll have an important role to fill.”

“Uh, yeah. I suppose so.” Clearly, he needs to think that, though I’m not sure it’s true. The alliance is important, but I don’t think it means what he thinks it means. “Well, I better get back to my flowers.”

“I’m not sure I like the idea of you being out here alone. It’s not safe. Cosimo, I’m happy to leave Fedele here to look after her if you need the manpower.”

My father forces a smile despite the disrespect of Mazzi’s insinuation that he can’t properly protect his own daughter. “I have several men on the grounds here who can watch over her, thank you.”

“Good to hear you’ve replaced the men you lost the last time the Russians showed up. I heard they did a real number over here. They’re unpredictable like that, and the Reaper is a total unknown. This summer, he carved up three Russians so fast they never had a chance to defend themselves. Dead, with their weapons still tucked away.” He peers back at me pointedly. “It would be a real travesty if something like that were to happen to such a beautiful woman.”

The hair on the back of my neck rises, though I’m not sure if it’s the Reaper or my fiancé who’s the source of my alarm. His warning is … odd.

“We appreciate your concern, and I’ll make sure to be very careful,” I tell him coolly.

He blinks, then grins broadly as though shifting gears back to a more charismatic personality. The disjointed transition is unsettling.

“That’s good to hear because I could leave Fedele here, but he’s more of a hassle than he’s worth. The brute has no strength where it counts.” Mazzi taps a finger to his head to underscore his thinly veiled insult, as though Mazzi himself is some great intellectual.

What an ass. The giant may not be a mathematician, but at least he’s savvy enough not to insult everyone around him.