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All I can do now is try to salvage the situation.
“I don’t know why you’re trying to get out of going to bed with your wife,” Rossi says disgustedly. “God knows she’s beautiful enough, young and innocent—that ought to be enough for any man. Maybe she’s conned you into agreeing not to touch her somehow—don’t tell me if she did,” he adds. “I respect you, Luca, and I don’t want to be given any more reason to feel differently. But whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter.”
“I don’t like the idea of forcing a woman,” I say quietly.
“A man with morals.” Rossi shakes his head. “I’ve never denied that every man should have his code, but this isn’t the time, Luca. There can be no question about the legality of this marriage. I’ve told you that already. So I don’t care what you have to do in order to get your cock up her, but that girl best be made a wife by tomorrow morning. We’ll view the bridal bed as is custom.” He pauses, and the look in his eyes sends another chill down my spine.
“I’m going easy on you this once, son,” Rossi says, his voice emotionless and hard. “You’ve always been loyal and honest, and you’ve worked hard for me through the years. I couldn’t have asked for more from Marco Romano’s son. But if you lie to me again—” he shakes his head, and I know that whatever he says next, it will be the absolute truth.
“You’ll die. And you’ll die slow. I don’t tolerate liars—especially not from those who stand to inherit everything I’ve built.”
“I understand,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry, sir.” There’s nothing else to say. Anything more is excuses—the damage is done. All that’s left now is to repair it as well as I can manage.
“You’ll take care of it?”
“Yes.” I pause. “Can I ask you a question?”
Rossi shrugs. “Go ahead.”
“Why do you care so much about keeping this promise? Why is it so necessary that Sofia dies, or marries me and becomes my wife in every way? You cared for my father and hers, I know, but you’ve done far worse than break promises to a friend. We both have. Why not send her away somewhere? Why not give her fake papers and a new life? Surely all this cost so much more.”
I hadn’t asked all of this before because this solution seemed simpler—I hadn’t wanted to give Rossi a reason to think that I didn’t want to marry her and choose his preference instead…eliminating her entirely. But the marriage is done now. And I can’t help but wonder why there were only two options.
“If she’s not dead, she needs to be able to be watched. We need to know where she is, always. Allowing her to disappear would mean that there was always a chance the Bratva could track her down and take her without our knowing.”
“But again—is she really so valuable?” I haven’t pressed him before, but now I push, despite his anger with me. He’s been cagey about this all along, and if I’m going to tell Sofia that she has no choice but to go to bed with me tonight, I need to know the truth. I need to know as much as he’ll tell me.
He only gives an inch. But it’s something.
“She could be the downfall of the whole family,” Rossi says grimly. “All I’ve worked for, all I’ve built, gone to the Bratva if they get their hands on her.”
“How?”
I see his jaw clench. “Some things you don’t need to know yet, Luca.” He pauses, draining the last of his drink. “Just do your job. Fuck her, or else.”
Rossi raises his glass in a mock toast then, turns on his heel, and leaves me standing there dumbstruck.
I thought I’d done all that I’d have to do. I’d sheltered her, lied for her, and married her.
But now I have to do something else altogether.
And she’s not going to be happy.
Sofia
Surprisingly, the reception turns out to be more enjoyable than I had expected, aside from my dance with Don Rossi. Everything he said to me made me feel uncomfortable, eager to be away from him, but once the song ended and he passed me off to another guest, I felt myself begin to relax just a little. It takes me a long time to even notice that Luca hasn’t returned, I’m so busy dancing with everyone who wants a turn with the bride. I know I don’t have a choice but to be gracious and participate in all of the pageantry, and even though I’ve never been one for big parties or dancing, I have to admit that the experience is better than I’d thought it would be.
If I forget that they’re all either members of or affiliated to this family that has trapped me in an unwanted marriage, it’s not so bad. Everyone is kind and congratulatory, laboring under the assumption that Luca and I want this marriage, and it’s a pleasant change from feeling unwanted. Even Franco, who I would have thought would be aware of the entire situation, twirls me around the dance floor as happily as any best man might, congratulating me on marrying into the family.
It’s not until Luca comes back that I know something’s off.
He’s always alternately cold and hot with me, wanting me one moment and closed off the next, but there’s something different about him when he returns. He won’t meet my eyes even when we cut the wedding cake, kissing me quickly on the cheek for a photo and not quite looking at me when we feed each other the obligatory piece of cake. He looks almost—guilty, as if he’s keeping a secret that he doesn’t want me to figure out.
We’re staying at the same hotel where the reception is being held, and it goes on for what feels like hours and hours. For a family largely made up of middle-aged and older adults, they can certainly party, and by midnight everyone is well and truly drunk, feasting on the late night food that’s passed around the reception.
“Caterina and Mrs. Rossi really outdid themselves,” I whisper to Luca, trying to get him to say something, but he just grunts, ignoring me in favor of taking another swig of the scotch that’s seemed to be in his glass continuously throughout the night. I can’t tell if he’s drunk or not, but he’s at least got a decent buzz going on.
I, on the other hand, have remained stone cold sober. I don’t trust myself not to say something out of turn, or maybe just burst into tears if I have more than one or two glasses of champagne. For all that the night hasn’t been as terrible as I expected, it’s still a reception for a marriage I didn’t want, and there’s not a single person I know here except for Caterina and Luca—which isn’t saying much. I like Caterina a surprising amount for her being Don Rossi’s daughter, but she’s far from being what I would call aclose friend.
