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And I absolutely, cannot ever allow myself to care about him.
That last should be easy enough,I think, looking up at the stone-faced man in front of me.
“So you’re agreeing to the marriage, then?” Luca looks down at me impassively.
“Yes. As long as—”
“As long as I don’t fuck you. I’ve got it.” He smiles coldly at me. “If that’s all, Ms. Feretti, there’s paperwork to sign. Agreement to wed, pre-nuptial agreements, the works. And the jeweler will be here in—” he checks his watch. “Fifteen minutes to provide you with a choice of engagement rings.”
I stare at him, momentarily dumbfounded. “Engagement rings?” I squeak, startled out of my sullen defiance. The way he says it is so bland, so contractual, for something that should be so intimate. A sign of a promise between two people who love each other.
But there’s not anything resembling love in this room.
“Oh, you like the sound of that?” Luca’s smile refuses to meet his eyes. “Women are generally charmed by my money, but I thought you’d be the exception to that, since you were so solidly against the idea.”
I clench my teeth, a fresh wave of anger washing over me. “You just caught me by surprise. I didn’t think you cared enough to buy me a ring. After all, you’re beingforcedinto this too.”
“I don’t care,” Luca says bluntly. “But this marriage must appear to be completely real, and completely untouchable. That means we will go through every motion. You will choose an engagement ring, and a wedding dress, and we will have a very large, very public ceremony at St. Patrick’s, and a very large, very expensive reception after, as befits my position. You will be a beautiful, happy bride, and I will be a handsome and adoring groom. But most of all, Ms. Romano, you will begrateful.” He turns then, fixing me with his dark green gaze all over again. “And after that, as soon as I can install you in your own apartment, we will live our lives as separately as possible, except for when it is strictly necessary for us to be seen in public together.”
“And you’ll forget about me.” The statement comes out more pitiful than I’d meant for it to.
Luca smiles tightly. “My dearest wish,Sofia, is that we can forget about each other.”
* * *
Ten minutes later,I find myself seated at the table in Luca’s expansive dining room with stacks of paperwork neatly organized across it, a wizened man who looks older than the antique art on the walls sitting across from me, and a velvet tray with ten different engagement rings in front of me.
They’re all large, extravagant, and probably worth more than a year’s worth of rent on my apartment. Maybe even more than that. And they’re all beautiful.
“If your choice isn’t the right size, I can have that fixed and ready for you tomorrow,” the jeweler says, glancing between Luca and I. He looks nervous, and I can’t blame him. Luca’s expression is steely as he stands to the right of me, his arms crossed over his chest as he looks down at the tray of rings.
He’s probably adding up how much this is all costing him in his head.
Perversely, it occurs to me to just pick the one that looks as if it costs the most, regardless of my own personal taste. But the one that looks the most expensive is a princess-cut diamond that looks as if it would reach to my knuckle, surrounded by a halo of diamonds and a diamond-encrusted band. It’s far gaudier than anything I would ever wear, and I can’t bring myself to commit to wearing it forever just to spite Luca. Knowing what I do about him so far, he’ll insist that I keep it on my hand no matter what.
It’s not as if he plans to even see you all that often, once the Bratva are dealt with though.
I don’t know why that thought makes my chest squeeze tightly, as if I’m sad. Luca avoiding me is the best possible outcome. It’s not the life I’d hoped for, but at least I won’t be dead, and I’ll never have to worry about money.
And he’d said I could travel. Even if I can’t live in London and play with the orchestra there, I can still go to Paris, maybe—
It’s still not your life.It’s a life being chosen for you. One that you’ll have to get permission for every move you make.No matter how I try to turn it around in my head, nothing can change the fact that everything I’ve dreamed of, worked for, and hoped for has been taken away in an instant. And even though it isn’t Luca who orchestrated this, I can’t help but hate him for it. Especially since I can’t bring myself to hate my own father, a man who undoubtedly loved me, and who I’ve never stopped grieving for.
So Luca is the only person left for me to blame this on.
I pick up one of the rings, a round diamond encircled in a halo with a slim platinum band, and slide it onto my finger. It feels heavy and looks odd, taking up so much space on my slender hand. “Don’t you have anything smaller?” I ask curiously, and Luca makes a face.
“It wouldn’t look right for the wife of the future Don to have a small engagement ring,” Luca says flatly, in a tone that brooks no argument.
Of course. Never mind whatIwould choose.I gingerly set the first ring down, and pick up another, a pear shaped diamond solitaire set on a rose gold pave band that reminds me of Blake Lively’s ring. It’s less ostentatious than the others, and unique, but the diamond is still huge, covering the entire space between the base of my finger and the first knuckle.How does anyone wear something like this?
And then, as I look over the tray of rings with sinking spirits, I notice one that does stand out to me.
It’s not as flashy or modern as the other rings, in fact, it looks as if it could be an antique. It’s a radiant-cut diamond set in yellow gold, and although it’s large—probably still over three carats—it’s not nearly as huge as the other center stones. It’s flanked by two emerald baguettes, and the band is plain. Nestled next to it is the matching wedding band, a yellow gold eternity ring with the diamonds sunken into it all the way around.
I pick it up, sliding it onto my left hand. It fits perfectly, and my heart beats a little faster in my chest as I stretch out my hand in front of me, looking at the ring. I don’t want to love it as much as I do. It’s large without being gaudy, beautiful without being overpowering, and the green of the emeralds are the same color as Luca’s eyes. For a single moment, as I look at the diamond glittering on my hand, I wish with all my might that things were different. This looks like a ring that should have been chosen for me, a ring that I could pass down to a daughter or for a future son to give to his bride, a family heirloom in the making. A token of love, not wealth.
“Is that the one you want?”
