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“Yes.”
“Be careful, brother. Maybe you don’t know women as well as you think you do. If you put a kid in her belly, you better make damn sure you keep her happy. I won’t stand by and watch another kid suffer for his father’s mistakes.”
“The mistake wasn’t our father’s. He walked into a trap. The blame belongs to Warren.”
“Exactly.” He pins me with a look. “It’s Evie I’m referring to, not you or me. She’s the one who’s paying for her father’s mistake. I can’t imagine that makes her happy.”
“Don’t concern yourself about my wife’s happiness,” I say in a harsh tone. “That’s my job.”
“Just saying.” He backtracks a few steps toward his room. “I hope you know how to do that job.”
When he’s gone inside and closed the door, I have a shower and change into the formal black suit my tailor delivered. Dressed in the fitted slacks, a crisp white shirt, black tie, waistcoat, and jacket, I regard myself in the mirror. What does Evie see when she looks at me? The monster and all the other adjectives she uses to describe the man who’s about to take her to bed? No matter how this marriage is coming about, I’ll be a good husband and father. I know my duties and I don’t shy away from the responsibilities I take on.
I button up the jacket and slide the white rose into the pocket. Pulling back my sleeve, I check the hour.
It’s time.
After grabbing the box with the rings, I make my way to Evie’s room. I take a moment to dial Andrew, checking that the officiant has arrived. My cousin had the same reaction as my brother when I told him about my plan—my real plan—but like Mateo, he saw that this was the only way.
This time, I do knock.
The stylist opens the door and says with a smile, “She’s ready for you, sir.”
I take a wad of cash from my wallet and hand it to her. It’s vulgar to do the transaction in the hallway, right in front of my bride’s face, but I never leave a paper trail that can lead back to me.
“You know your way out,” I say. “A guard will escort you.”
She slips the money into her pocket, picks up her make-up case, and inclines her head as she leaves.
Only then, when we’re alone, do I look at Evie.
She stands next to the bed in a cloud of white. It’s barely eleven. The morning winter sun makes a halo behind her head. Considering the weather, I chose a dress with long sleeves. The bodice is sewed from handmade lace. The back is low and the skirt wide. I made sure that the waist is loose enough not to irritate her stitches. Seeing that she can’t wear heels, I got ballerina flats. She’s slender. Vulnerable. Too thin. A breeze will blow her over. She needs to pick up weight. I’ll work on that. She can’t grow a baby in her belly if she’s underweight.
Crossing the floor, I take the posy of sweet peas from the bed. The stems are covered in silk and tied with a ribbon. I had the flowers flown in. It took a lot of effort to find them. The florist managed to source some from Britain where it’s summer.
I lift the bouquet to my nose and inhale the fragrance. They smell sweet, like innocence and carefree Aprils. I can see why Evie likes them.
I feel her eyes on me, but her expression is hidden from me behind the veil. I can just make out the elegant bun of her hair in her nape. Just as well. I’m not sure I’ll like what I see.
Pressing the flowers into her hand, I say, “You’ll need these,” meaning those words on more than one level.
She’ll need the prop for our wedding photos, but if she’s to make it in her new life, she’ll need every bit of beauty she can get.
CHAPTER 15
Christina
* * *
I stare at the flowers in my hand. “You’re not serious about this, Roman. You can’t be.”
“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life,” he says in an earnest tone.
My pulse goes into overdrive. “What can you possibly hope to achieve with this?”
He studies me. “You don’t know? Your father never told you?”
Something rides on the air, something that contracts my stomach and feels too much like that time when everyone was in on the joke except for me. “Told me what?”
Stepping closer, he muses, “He really did leave you in the dark, didn’t he?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I made my conditions clear to your father when I offered him a contract for your hand in marriage.”
I gape at him. “What?”
“I told him I wanted my family’s diamond back. He owed me that and more.” A beat passes. “He took everything from me. In turn, I promised to take everything from him. His most valuable possessions. His business. The diamond. You.” He places emphasis on every word. “I staked a claim on you first, Evie. He knew I was coming for you. That’s why he wanted to marry you to Stone.”
