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I hadn’t expected that. Italians were notorious for their strict delineation between Italians and outsiders. I was illegitimate with no clue who my father was and raised among the Irish, so the last thing I had expected was for the Genoveses to call me one of their own. My birth mother wanting to meet me was entirely different from these men accepting me into the family.
“You do me a great honor,” I forced past my shock.
Enzo smiled. “Well, then. If we’re all agreed, let’s talk particulars. “I’ve spoken to the other bosses and compiled a short list of possible matches for you to consider. We only included women of respectable rank and suitable situation.” He gestured to his brother, who extracted several sheets of paper from a leather portfolio and handed them to me.
My stomach clenched as reality set in that this outlandish idea was actually moving forward. A part of me had been certain nothing would come of our lunch, so I hadn’t worried about the outcome. My gut churned as I scanned through grainy color photographs printed on standard printer paper. Next to each was a list of background and basic information. I felt like I was picking out a used car, not a bride.
Was I actually considering this? Would I bind myself to some Italian Mafia princess I’d never even met?
Jesus Christ.
I scanned each page with unseeing eyes, too busy keeping myself calm to register the faces before me until the very last page. I paused to take in the striking image of a young woman peering over her shoulder at the camera. All the women had been attractive, but something about this one captured my attention. I couldn’t say exactly why. It was an intangible quality. The piercing way she looked at the camera as though she could see right through it.
“You’ll want to take that last one out of contention,” Edoardo offered. “She never should have been in the pile.”
“She in a relationship or something?” I asked.
“No, she was in a car accident six months ago. Her mother was killed in the wreck, and Noemi’s vocal cords were damaged. She’s mute and, from what I hear, pretty traumatized. No clue why her father nominated her. She’s hardly been seen outside of her house since it happened.”
Mute. Nowthatwas even more intriguing. The sheet listed her age at twenty, a full eight years younger than me—a sizable gap but not insurmountable.
“She scarred or have other physical damage?”
“Not that I know of,” Edoardo mused.
Just how traumatized was this girl? I wasn’t interested in taking on drama, but the prospect of a silent wife bore merit. I could lead my life as I wanted without nagging or disruption and allow her to do the same. For the first time since Jimmy had uttered the word alliance, I began to see hope.
“I want to know more,” I murmured, eyes still glued to the page.
“Is that really what you want?” Enzo asked in a wary tone.
I lay down the pages and leveled him with an even stare. “I won’t know until I meet her, but she’s a beautiful woman, and something tells me we might work well together. If her father has consented, and she’s volunteered herself, I see no problem pursuing the match.”
“Very well.” Enzo dropped his chin in a subtle bow. “I’ll have more information to you by the end of the day.”
I took my freshly filled wineglass in hand and held it aloft. “To a lasting alliance, gentlemen, and a new era of prosperity.”
And to Noemi Mancini, prepare yourself. Life as you know it is about to change.
Present
He tookSante with him when he left town. A part of me had hoped he wouldn’t, and I’d have a chance to talk to Sante alone and finally start the process of escaping with my brother. Dad would never have made things so easy for me. It had been idiotic to even entertain the scenario.
Instead, I used my father’s two-day absence to enjoy a rare reprieve from his watchful eye. Umberto was still a stone’s throw away, but that wasn’t the same as having the man himself breathing down my neck. I watched movies, listened to music, and daydreamed about getting on a boat with Sante and watching the New York skyline disappear in the distance.
Escaping would have been ideal, but two days alone was a close second.
The end of my respite came in the form of a text from my father informing me not to be late for dinner. I wasn’t sure why he felt the need to remind me. Ever since Mom’s death, he’d insisted we eat together each evening at seven sharp. I hadn’t been late once.
Just another flex to remind me of the power he holds over me.
I heaved a heavy sigh and tossed my phone onto the bed.
You’ve got this, Em. The more obedient you are, the more he’ll trust you, and the easier it will be to get far away from here.
Two hours later, I emerged from my room and plodded downstairs. I smiled at Sante when I saw him seated at the table along with our father, who launched to his feet at the sight of me.
“What the hell are you wearing?” He sneered. “You look like a fucking urchin. Go put on something respectable.”
