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She’d made no secret about how much she despised theCosa Nostraand theCamorra, and anything to do with the Mafia, really. It’s the one thing she’d made me promise—never to have anything to do with them. What she had neglected to mention was that she was one of them, as am I. She hadn’t told me anything about my background, or my father, or about my triplet brothers. Not until she was on her deathbed. Even then, she’d waited until the very last minute, when she had sensed her imminent death, before she’d finally told me about the circumstances surrounding my birth. Then, she had breathed her last.
I’d known it was inevitable that she would die early, the way she had been working so hard, and let’s face it, women in her profession aren’t known for their longevity. She had poured all of her hopes, her dreams, her ambitions into me, and a part of me had known that she wouldn’t survive for long. Still, no matter how much you try to anticipate it, no one is prepared for death.
My mother had been struck down by a fast-spreading cancer. She had refused treatment, something I had found out only later, for she had ensured not to tell me about it. Of course, as a teenager I was wrapped up in my own life. Still you’d think I would have spotted that my mother was suffering from cancer. But she managed to hide it well. It wasn't until she was near the end that I realized just how sick she was. At that point, it was hard to ignore how skeletal she’d become, and I hated myself for missing it. I had held her hand, had looked into her eyes as she had passed.
When she was finally still, anger had gripped me. I had glanced into her lifeless features and a rage of the kind I had never experienced before had swept through me. She had given me everything materially possible; everything except love. She had ensured I had a good education, yet not once, had she simply spent time with me, just been with me the way a mother would be with her child. She had burdened me with her expectations, her aspirations and wishes.
What about me, what about what I wanted? Yes, it’s selfish, I know that. She had sacrificed everything for me, and yet, as I sat there, still holding her hand that was growing increasingly cold, a desolation had swept through me. She had left me without once telling me that she loved me.
I had been a reminder of her past, perhaps. I was someone through whom she thought she could vindicate herself, and I had hated her for that. And I had hated myself for thinking that way. I had been so angry with her for screwing me up in the head. I had been upset with her for not taking better care of herself. I had been frustrated that I had not been old enough to stop her, that I’d been unable to keep her from working herself to death, and…
I had hated myself for not noticing sooner. She had insisted that she was fine and I had opted to believe her. I had lived the life of a carefree youth, someone who had everything going for him, who was going to achieve all of his dreams… The kinds of dreams that she had wanted for me.
I had sworn then, I would avenge her. I would track down those who had been responsible for destroying her. I would find the man who had lied to her and caused her to get pregnant, which had led to the events that had ruined her. I would find my father and ensure that he suffered as much as she had. As much as I had.
It’s what had led me here. All of the images from my past pour through my mind, and for a second, I have complete clarity.
I remember now, how I had tracked down my father. And when he had been killed before I’d had the opportunity to avenge my mother, I had been forced to refocus my attention on my brothers.
I had already approached Christian’s now-wife Aurora in London and coerced her into helping me. When her father had taken ill and she’d returned home to become the Sovranos' doctor, that only made it easier.
Then, Christian put himself in my crosshairs when he fixated on Aurora. I could learn more about him than anyone else because he spent the most time with her. When the two of them became separated from the rest of the family, and thus, were unprotected, I had my opportunity to strike.
And I’d had help. I straighten. On my side, I’d had an ally who was more powerful, stronger than the Cosa Nostra, and with as fierce a motive as mine to take them down.
It’s why I must go through with this sham of a marriage—something I hadn’t anticipated, but which I can use to my advantage. It’s why I will use my soon-to-be wife to get back at theCosa Nostra.
I throw back my head and laugh. It’s perfect, actually. I couldn’t have planned this set-up better.
I am going to leverage this marriage to my benefit…and take full advantage of the perks that come with it, too. I roll off the bed where I had flung myself down after returning from the meeting with my brothers. It’s only a short flight of steps from the study downstairs to my bedroom, but the catch-up with them and the events of the day had taken it out of me. I’m healing fast, but I’m nowhere near my former health, and while I am pushing myself to get in shape, I also know the dangers of overdoing it. So, I had forced myself to return to my room and I’d taken a nap. A bloody nap in the middle of the day… Like I’m a helpless infant, but at least, I feel refreshed. And I am going to need my strength for what I have in mind.
22
Theresa
I stand under the shower, let the hot water flow over my shoulders, my back, and down my legs. I raise my head to the spray and revel in the steam and warmth that envelops me. The talk with the women had both reassured and unsettled me.
At least, Karma is taking care of my dress. And Cass has assured me that I need not worry about the wedding arrangements. She said she and Nonna will handle that. Of course, I had a clear vision about the flower arrangements and Elsa helped to bring that to life. She also promised to make arrangements with a friend of hers who runs a macaroonerie—yes, that’s, apparently, a thing, a shop specializing in macaroons. Which means, all I have to do is turn up in a few days.
Cass says the venue will be the family church in Palermo, which I had already anticipated. The Sovranos are sticklers for tradition, except apparently, when it comes to planning weddings, when they are happy to get married with extremely short timelines. Where other brides need months, and sometimes years, to plan their weddings, the Sovrano brides have to make do with days to plan everything. I remind myself that this is my fault.
At least, I have a week. And I could have had a month if I hadn’t opened my big mouth. Either way, that’s generous compared to Karma and Aurora, who were both married within 48 hours. The Sovranos have enough clout that getting a marriage license on such short notice is no big deal. So, the marriage preparations are all in hand.
It’s really what Karma had hinted at later that makes me uncomfortable. Will Axel really be upset that I asked him to marry me in front of his brothers? Is that an affront to his ego, as Karma had warned? Will he try to get back at me for it? If so, what will he do? And since I am living under the same roof as him, is that even advisable?
He won’t kill me—nah, as Karma pointed out, bodily harm is not in the mix, but it’s the other stuff he can do to me that worries me— how he can make me melt with a glance, how he can touch me and I’ll feel it all the way to my toes, how he’ll glare at me and a shiver runs down my spine, how he’ll lower his voice to a hush and something inside me insists I obey him. Damn it. Basically, I’m putty in his hands. I don’t stand a chance against him. So how the hell am I going to survive being married to him? Again, what the hell had I been thinking when I had flung the proposal at him, and in front of everyone else?
I groan and lean my forehead against the wall of the shower. Clearly, I have a death wish. It’s why I had challenged his ego. Of course, he’s going to be miffed. But is Karma right? Is he going to take revenge for what I did? I know I left him with little choice but to agree to my proposal. It’s why I had raised it in front of everyone.
No, I hadn’t planned it—not consciously—but my subconscious is way ahead of me at the moment. He’s recovering so much more quickly than anyone expected. And no way, could I let him go after he recovers. I needed to find a way to tie him to me, to buy some time while I figure out how to win him over. No, I had done the right thing. Too bad, if his ego is hurt. He’ll just have to deal with it. And if he decides to take it out on me… Well, I’ll just have to deal with it. I’ll need to plow through the next few days, until I get to the wedding. Once we are married, I’ll have to find a way to get into his good books, if that’s even possible. I straighten, then wash the shampoo from my hair. I switch off the shower and turn, then scream.
"What the h…hell, what are you doing here?"
He simply watches me from under his thick eyelashes. Those blue eyes of his seem to glow with an inner fire. He’s wearing a short-sleeved, white T-shirt which clings to his shoulders. I can’t help but take in the patchwork of scars and tattoos on his right forearm. I lower my gaze to where the material of the jeans molds to those powerful thighs. Jesus, whatever his profession was, it definitely involved a lot of physical activity. What did he do anyway? Is he a part of some other rival gang? Is he a mercenary? An assassin, maybe? Not sure why, but something in the way he’s always on alert, the way he had come awake from the coma, only to jump out of bed and take on the man who had attacked me in his room… I am still not over it. That kind of strength means he’s had special training, but where? With whom?
"What’s going on in that mind of yours?" he rumbles.
"N…nothing." I straighten my spine. I am not going to hide. This is my bathroom, damn it. He is the one who’s intruding, not me. Besides, I had made the first move, surprising him with the proposal, and now I need to face whatever the repercussions from it are.
