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But I didn’t care about them or what they said. I was too busy staring across the table at Giselle, noting how her body language had changed the moment she saw my father.
God, this was exactly how she’d been that first night, when we sat together at the Black Hand party. Why didn’t I notice it was because she was uncomfortable, not because she was shy? I’d been so stupid. I kind of hated myself for it, even though it wasn’t something I could change.
“You look amazing,” I told her, my voice low so as to not interrupt our fathers’ conversation. She wore a sparkling white dress whose neckline dipped just below her collarbone, sleeveless, paired with a diamond necklace and her white gloves. Similar diamonds hung on her ears, giving her an elegant, graceful look.
Funny how she looked so beautiful, so stunning and angelic… and yet she could deliver swift, unholy justice just like the rest of us. Perhaps if things were different, I’d be able to see how Giselle was in the thick of a fight.
Giselle didn’t thank me. She didn’t even blush. She acted as though she hadn’t heard me, and I knew I couldn’t be upset at her for acting like this. I’d failed her yesterday, so she had no reason to care about me or what I thought of her.
Our fathers carried the conversation, but it didn’t get deeper than a superficial level until after our orders were put in. Giselle and I had said nothing else so far, not to each other, and not to our fathers. Miguel and my father had decided to order the restaurant’s most expensive wine, the entire bottle. A crystal-clear glass sat before each of us, filled with the dark red stuff.
Miguel’s fingers toyed with the bottom of the glass as he looked at Giselle and then me. “I’m sure you two are wondering what this is about,” he said, pausing to lift that wine glass to his lips and take a small sip. “And I’m also certain you two must already suspect.”
Miguel and my father were two men cut from the same cloth. They held themselves in much the same way, did business in a similar manner. They each had legal business fronts to hide their more illegal—and more profitable—sides. They were mirrors of each other, almost, and I hated that Giselle was sandwiched between them.
I didn’t say anything, nor did Giselle. My father was busy staring at me, though he then took his eyes to Giselle. If I wasn’t mistaken, I could’ve sworn he smirked a bit. Just for a quick, fleeting second, but I still saw it. I saw it, and I fought the urge deep inside me to tackle him. Until yesterday, I never imagined any acts of violence toward my father, but now I couldn’t stop.
I loved him as a son should love his father, but at the same time, there were some sins that could not be forgiven—and what he’d done to Giselle three years ago was one of them.
“You two are, according to the world, for all intents and purposes, engaged,” my father said, taking his wine glass and raising it toward Miguel, as if bartering a match between us was nothing more than another business transaction.
I watched as my father and Miguel clinked their glasses together, not moving a muscle to do the same. Neither did Giselle. We sat there in silence, though I bet we were thinking far different things.
“You’ll take a visit to the jewelry store down on Third Street tomorrow and pick out a ring,” my father said after taking a sip. “We are going to announce it to the rest of the Hand tomorrow as well.”
Giselle’s jaw ground, and I could tell she was seconds from either saying something—something that I didn’t doubt would anger either my father or hers—or leaping up and running away, because this was a marriage she definitely didn’t want.
So instead, I chimed in, “How? How can this work? Doesn’t that mean you don’t have an heir?” That question was toward Miguel.
He gave me a tight smile. “No. It simply means that our families are connected. If I win the position on the Hand, you and Giselle will be my heirs, your future children as well. If Rocco wins, then it’s the same.”
I could see what he was saying, but I still didn’t quite get it. This was a play of some kind, a way for them both to have a say on the Hand’s business, even if one of them loses. And if they both lose? Then what? I decided to ask.
“And what happens if neither of you make it on the Hand? What point would this marriage have?” As much as I tried not to, I glanced at Giselle. She was busy watching me with that dark, chocolatey gaze. I wouldn’t say she watched me with approval, but she definitely didn’t hold hatred in those eyes.
I’d take it.
Something unspoken passed between my father and Miguel, a shared look I couldn’t read, a look that told me just this: this wasn’t the only part of their plan. There had to be more to it, more neither one of them wanted to share with us.
And that meant it was shady and underhanded, something they didn’t want us knowing, because we might run and tattle on them. Whatever it was, it had to be something good, something serious. I couldn’t imagine what, though.
“I don’t think that’s anything you two have to worry about,” Miguel spoke confidently, and if he was anything like my father, he was a man who was always confident because he had everyone important in his pocket. That, or a plan he knew couldn’t fail. “Congratulations on your impending nuptials, Luca. My daughter may not have had a mother growing up, but I’ve taught her well. She’ll be loyal.” The corner of his lips quirked upward in a smirk, and I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.
What an asshole. The both of them were. I couldn’t believe this was happening.
I was measured in meeting Giselle’s stare once more. If things were different, I would’ve been excited. She was gorgeous, strong, the exact kind of wife any man like me could want. Formidable, she knew how the world worked. But as much as I had grown to care for her, perhaps even love her, I couldn’t be excited about this.
She would be miserable being married to me. She’d hate it. She’d want nothing to do with me; she’d never grow to love me. She would never, ever be happy to have my ring on her finger or have Moretti as her last name. That much I knew without a doubt.
It pained me to see her blank expression, knowing she hid her true emotions during this dinner all because she knew she couldn’t change our fathers’ minds. I wanted to reach over the table, grab her hand, and tell her that I was there for her, that I understood where she was coming from, and I would never, ever force her to do something she didn’t want to do. Not marry me, not have children, not spend another second with my father.
Giselle and I were engaged, but we wouldn’t be for long. Not if I could help it.
