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At least Lorenzo now knew I wasn’t going to just roll over and be a subservient wife to him. Although I was under no illusions about the challenges I would face. An arranged marriage was one thing; but an arranged marriage to a widower, who also had two kids, and who lived hundreds of miles away in a different state, was a whole other ballgame.
When it came time to say goodbye to my family, I couldn’t hold back my tears. Ma, Fidella and Aunt Priscilla were inconsolable. And, although Papà kept on his business mask, I knew from the way he hugged me very tightly that he was going to miss me too.
I wished that I’d been able to marry someone here in New York so that I could have stayed close to my family, just as Fidella had. Instead, I was going to be alone, without family or friends, in a strange city, among people who had until recently been an enemy of the Imperiosi.
After the goodbyes were complete, Lorenzo drove us to a private airfield from where we would board a Fratellanza jet. As we crossed the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge, I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder at Staten Island as I left it behind. I had crossed this bridge so many times, but today’s journey felt so final.
By the time we arrived at the airfield, I was feeling somewhat calmer. I told myself that I had to be strong to get through what lay ahead.
The jet was fueled and ready for our journey, and already on board were Marco and some other members of the Marchiano family. Lorenzo ushered me to a seat and then sat down next to me.
The flight was only three hours, but sitting on the plane next to a virtual stranger made it seem much longer.
After eating supper on the plane, we arrived in Chicago at 7pm. Lorenzo and I said goodbye to the other family members and took one of the waiting cars for Lorenzo to drive us to his mansion.
After sitting in silence for the first fifteen minutes of the drive, I switched on the car radio and flicked through the stations until settling on one I liked.
Lorenzo took his dark eyes off the road for a moment to glance over at me. “What on earth are you listening to?”
I frowned. “It’s a country and western station.”
“But you’re fromStaten Island.”
I looked across at him as he scowled at me. “So?”
“So, you come from a family of murderers—why in God’s name would you want to spend your time listening to wailing cowboys?”
I took a deep breath. “It’s good for my soul. You should try it sometime,” I said pointedly to him.
“Christ,” he muttered, “this must be some more Staten Island shit I don’t understand.”
Ignoring him, I sat back in my seat and let the music wash over me.
However, after listening to the soothing music for only another sixty seconds, Lorenzo snapped the radio over to the 24-hour news station.
I sighed. He was just like all Made Men: if he wasn’t murdering someone, he had to, at the very least, be listening to how someone else had been killed. He could really do with chilling out a bit.
CHAPTER 12
LORENZO
We pulled up outside my neo-Georgian mansion at 8 p.m. I was glad to be home and to have all the wedding frivolities over with. All I wanted was to get back to my work.
My housekeeper greeted us at the door.
I addressed Anni. “This is my housekeeper, Adelina. She will show you to our bedroom. The soldiers will be here in a few minutes with your belongings.”
Anni’s things had been packed in numerous bags and boxes, and they had been loaded onto our jet before we left New York.
“You can unpack and then go to bed whenever you want. Don’t wait up for me—I have work matters to see to.”
Anni looked surprised, but I turned on my heel and left her to it, not wanting to engage in further conversation. The children would be with their grandmother until tomorrow. My mother had thought I’d enjoy some time alone with my new wife to get to know her, but after her behavior last night, I just wanted to immerse myself in my work and occupy my mind with something other than her and this marriage. At least with my work, I was in total control, and none of my men dared to defy me.
Half an hour later, a soldier at the gate rang my cell as I worked at my desk in my study.
“Boss, Fantasia Veneti has just arrived.”
I paused for a moment in confusion. “What do you mean?” I barked.
