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“So, what do you think?” Juliana’s father interrupted my thoughts. “Does she meet to your satisfaction? I can assure you that she will make you an excellent wife. She is obedient and submissive, and I am certain she will bring you pleasure in every way.” Her father could have been talking about a racehorse. Or a whore.
But then women in the Mafia world were treated like chattels—like mere possessions. They were there to please their husband and produce children. Every Made Man required a male heir to look powerful and command respect from his own men. And I was sure that she could bring me satisfaction in that respect.
“We need some time to speak alone,” I said, stating what I wanted rather than asking. I was a Capo; I would not ask permission from anyone to talk to my future bride.
“Of course, of course,” her father nodded. He seemed keen on this union and did not hesitate to leave his daughter alone with me. I was sure that if I had a daughter, however, I wouldn’t leave her alone in the company of someone like me.
They filed out of the room, and as the heavy door clicked shut, Juliana looked at it as if her last lifeline had just expired.
She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, not having moved a step from where she had been standing.
“Come closer,” I commanded. “I want to get a proper look at what I’m getting.” I saw no need to mince my words. I would own her soon enough, and the sooner she understood that, the better.
At my words, she stiffened her spine and lifted her chin. Her blue eyes, fringed with inky long lashes, looked directly into mine. She was trying to give an illusion of confidence; however, the slight tremor in her hands betrayed her fear.
She walked forward but deliberately stopped a few steps away from me.
“Closer. I don’t bite, unless you want me to,” I growled.
She flinched at my words. Oh, how I would enjoy toying with this little innocent. She took another step toward me but kept her eyes fixed on a spot to the right of my head. She was having trouble meeting my gaze now that she was closer to me.
She was still a few steps away from me. I sighed and stepped toward her, seizing her wrists and pulling her toward me.
She gasped. “Wh-What are you doing?”
“If I tell you to do something, I expect obedience.” My tone was terse.
She was breathing a little too quickly, and I could feel her pulse beating rapidly in the wrists that I was still holding.
“Look at me,” I demanded, and she slowly raised her eyes up to me. “Have you agreed to this union?” I asked her.
“I did agree.”
We stared at each other.
She took a deep breath as if to give her courage for what she said next. “But we all know that women in this world have no real choice. Our duty is to obey and do whatever is asked of us.” The blush on her cheeks had deepened, but this time it was through anger rather than embarrassment.
“So, if you were given a free choice, you would not consent to this marriage?”
“Of course I wouldn’t. Why would I agree to give myself over to a monster like you?”
Well, well. This little kitten had sharp claws. Although I didn’t care who I married to cement this alliance, it was clear this girl would do anything not to marry me. I liked her open defiance—it would make her all the sweeter to break.
“But you, as a man, can say no. No one will think any worse of you if you say that you don’t want to marry me.”
“I’m not going to let you get away from me that easily. Where would be the fun in that?” My voice was hard, and I tried to not let her rile me. After all, I was marrying her for power, not love. There was the added bonus of having a beautiful girl in my bed and someone to produce heirs for me, but those things were not my priority. The only thing that mattered to me was forging the alliance and increasing my power.
She went to turn away.
“Not so fast,” I said, making her inhale sharply as I gripped her arm hard. “I haven’t given you the ring yet. After all, that is expected of us.”
Her blue eyes blazed, although she relaxed her arm slightly when she realized I intended nothing more than to give her the ring.
I took her hand. It was so small in my much larger one, emphasizing her fragility to me. I saw the slight tremor in her fingers, and although she was trying hard to hide her fear of me, she wasn’t succeeding. But I had been trained to notice every nuance of body language because even a subtle action could tell so much about an enemy’s intention. And until we were married, she was still the enemy.
I looked at her for a few moments, and then, with my other hand, I reached for the ring in my pocket. I slid the large diamond onto the ring finger of her left hand. I felt satisfaction when I saw that it fitted perfectly, as it should have given that her family had told me her ring size beforehand.
I kept her hand tightly in mine while I admired the ring, before looking back up at her. “Now you belong to me.”
