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“Really?” I point at the bucket like it’s a joke. “Fucking really? This is what a Don would do?”
“Lucas, this isn’t your place to question,” my father says, his anger returning.
“I think it very much is,” I say. “You’re marrying me off.”
Sophie is looking at the table cloth, her eyes wide and fearful. She’s muttering something under her breath but I can’t tell what it is.
My father frowns. “Being aDonis not about making money. It is not about success. It’s as I’ve said before, it’s the continuation of the family. The continuation of the business is secondary to the family. That is what true legacy is.”
“Bullshit.” I rise again. “If it was that we would attack the Manettis and still fight off the Colombino’s.”
“You think it hasn’t been done?” he says. “Who was the first port of call on this job a month ago? Where’d you think I went first? I called Thomas directly, but why would he risk his own daughter? Why would I risk my son? In this game you have to learn to read the road before the corner comes. If you don’t, you won’t slow down in time to stop yourself driving off the cliff. That’s what we’re going to let the Manettis do. We’ll let ‘em keep thinking they’re alright. We’ll draw their attention away, but all the while they’ll keep getting faster. Eventually it’ll be too late. Because by that point we’ll have men on the inside. We’ll know how to hit them and hit them hard when we do.”
He pauses now, and takes a deep breath. Because in truth he knows we’re sacrificing our own family identities. “We’ll know because the families will be together. You and Sophie will be married. And with our powers combined, we will secureourlegacy. As one, we look after more than just ourselves. That is what your mother believed in.”
I’m silent. Tommy is looking at me and Sophie is still looking at the table. I click my tongue and turn away, shaking my head.How the hell did this happen?
Chapter 13
Sophie
Myfather’swordsstillreverberate around in my head. The constant repeating of duty, honor, sacrifice, it’s all there. His standard speech. Except this time the duty and honor, the sacrifice needing to be made isn’t me learning accounting, it’s being engaged to the complete jerk of a spoiled asshole Luca.
Who is actually the father of the baby growing inside of me,my brain reminds me.I can’t help but for a sigh to escape my lips as I look out of the window.
“Believe me, I feel the same way,” Luca says.
We’re riding in the back of a private car our fathers have organized for us. We’re being delivered to a house in the Everglades on the west side of the Florida peninsula. We’re on our honeymoon as far as the world is concerned. Not hiding away while the finer details of the Manetti attempted hit is worked out by our fathers.
Luca clicks his tongue for the millionth time and I want to staple it to the roof of his mouth. “Believe me,” I say, in a terrible imitation of his voice. “I feel the same way.”
Luca looks at me with his eyebrows raised. “Really? You wanted it different? Your dream has come true.”
“Mydream?” I splutter. “What part of my dream has come true with this?” I gesture at the car and the growing house it's slowly crawling towards from the long driveway before us. We’ve just passed through a big set of heavily armed gates. Men the size of small mountains roam back and forth.
“Let’s see,” Luca says, counting off on his fingers. “You’re out of being an heir, you can do what you want. And that's about it. Everything else falls to someone else. Just what you wanted,” he says, finishing with a sarcastic smile.
“You’re an ass,” I hiss.
“And yet we’re getting married,” he says, turning away.
I’m grinding my teeth. I’m sure this stress isn't good for a baby. But I don’t even know about that either! What do I need to be doing differently in pregnancy? There’s so much I don’t know. So much I’m not prepared for.
The car pulls up at the house and comes to a stop at the enormous front doors. Columns rise up to a huge ceiling above. It looks like some sort of sugar plantation thing, except it’s not. It’s new and hideous. It’s over the top and ugly. It’s—
“Home for the next month,” Luca says, opening the car door.
We’re immediately greeted by servants and butlers who come and take everything from the car. I’ve barely slammed the door shut and the driver makes a getaway. In mere seconds, it’s just Luca and I standing there again. “Well, you Colombinos sure live differently,” I mutter.
“Excuse me?” Luca says.
“You heard me,” I sass.
“This house—” Luca points up at the hideous fake roman columns. “—Is not somewhere I would normally live. This is my father’s place.”
I head for the door without acknowledging him. It’s magically opened by a seemingly invisible man who avoids any eye contact as we enter, then shuts it just as quickly. The inside is just as hideous. If the morning sickness wasn’t making me nauseous, whoever designed this place has. Black balustrades run along the first floor mezzanine, with garish gargoyle statues on the corners. The hideous carpet runs along the floorsthenup half the wall. It’s matching in color and style, deep red and black spots. There’s even fake gold inlays all over the place. It’s horrible. It’s hideous. It’s familiar …
“It’s styled exactly like the Scarface movie,” Luca says, nodding his head and looking around. “I’m sure you’ve seen that,” he drawls.
