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A deep voice masked with purpose.

“Does it matter?” Carlo snaps back to him.

“Lo fa se è lei.”Giovanni gets up and walks away. I’m not sure if I did something to offend him or if Carlo pissed him off.

I can’t understand a word they are saying. They’re speaking Italian for a reason.

They don’t seem to want me to know what they’re talking about. That can only mean one thing: they are talking about me. Treating me like an idiot because I can’t speak their language.

My mama would have been able to make this day amazing for everyone invited, not only the bride and groom. She would have filled the silence with awkward conversation about how she can make the best pierogis. She can—hers are the best I’ve ever had. She always adds just the right amount of filling, not too much and not too little.

But her time overseas wastooimportant.

“Nina, your day is coming soon,” Papa says, all too loudly.

Yes, I know.“Thank you for that,” I say.

“Cut the attitude. Not today.”

My smug smile slowly turns into a frown. “I’m sorry,” I lie. “Who did you have in mind?” I try to sound interested, but me trying can only go so far.

“Kirill.” He puts a hand on Kirill’s back.

My eyes widen. There is no way in hell I will be doing anything with that man. “Papa!” I yell. I have no filter anymore; the man might not be sixty years old, but he sure as hell looks like it.

Kirill looks deeply offended, but I don’t care.

“I will not,” I say.

“Enough,” he shouts back at me with rage filling his eyes. “Need I remind you?”

His glare tells me far too much.

He just doesn’t understand. But with how this family works, he will never understand. I have a month left to show the fight in me.

That was part of the deal.

2NINA

My sister walks over to the table full of our joined families. She’s changed out of her wedding dress and is now wearing a shorter white dress that curves around her hips, leaving nothing to any man’s imagination. I’m sure Carlo won’t be too happy about her choice in style.

Giovanni and Carlo walk back over to the table after they see Ana make her entrance.

I sometimes make Carlo out to be a bad guy, but in this instance he isn’t. The way he looks at my sister like she’s the rarest diamond ever found on earth. I can see it in his eyes—they focus deeply on hers, leaving me jealous of their love.

My sister fell in love with a guy and married him with our papa’s permission. Lucky that she was able to grow up with him. Years of family holidays spent together, helping the bond form between them. Even more lucky considering he is one of the leads in the Genovese family. Carlo may not have the Genovese last name, but he carries their power.

He walks over to her and opens his arms as she falls into them, embracing every ounce of love he has to offer.

I shut my eyes, trying not to cry. I am so happy for her, but seeing her in his arms just reminds me it’s something I will never have. I’ll be lucky if my soon-to-be husband dies in the next five years due to his old age.

Kirill sits near my papa on the other side of the table, not taking a single look at me, or anyone besides my father. By the looks of it, he is intimidated by him. My papa hasn’t signed the marriage contract yet—at least, not that I know of. Hopefully, Papa will let me talk to him before he signs any papers.

Kirill places a cigar between his lips as he chuckles at everything my papa says, even the things that aren’t funny. He is just embarrassing himself by laughing.

Giovanni finds a seat in front of me and places his arm around the chair next to him.

“Where’s that blonde bimbo of yours?” I ask, knowing they’re not together anymore. Even though I haven’t seen him in a while, it doesn’t mean people don’t talk about him like he’s God.

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