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“Since I’m already asking questions I shouldn’t, can I ask you…what happened to your fiancé? You two were engaged so many years and then he died?”
I force a smile. As always, even the smallest thought of Eddie sends a twist of unease to my tummy. “Basically that. I knew of him, but he was a few years older, so I didn’t really know him well. We met a few times, and he was nice enough. It wasn’t a love match or anything. My dad and his agreed on the contract. Eddie was adamant he wanted to get his degree first. Once he graduated, he would marry. He said I could go to school to keep me busy. Which was nice of him. He even split the cost with my father. Then he ended up staying for his Master’s at Stanford. When he came back to Chicago, he was only here for a few weeks before he got the flu and his lungs and heart, or something gave out.”
“From the flu? That’s crazy. I’m sorry.”
Shrugging, I don’t meet her eye. “It felt weird being told I would have at least a year of mourning before my father would look for another husband. Then I found out from Franco it wasn’t really about mourning—it would be seen as disrespectful to Eddie’s family. My father couldn’t have married me to someone else, even if he wanted to. Money and business were already mingling between our families. Eddie’s father would have at least demanded money back or at worst upended all the business they had together. The year is up next month.”
“You really don’t mind? I mean, didn’t you have anyone you want to marry? Or, I don’t know, goals and stuff?” She’s studying me.
I flinch at the question, my mind instantly going to the night I got Josh killed. What sends a wave of red across my cheeks isn’t guilt for Josh dead, or even the loss of him. It’s the way I can’t stop thinking of what would have happened if Franco hadn’t appeared. It was stupid and ridiculous to let myself think of Manuel Rodriguez.
Another shrug, avoiding the first part of her question. “I’ve never dreamed of being a doctor or lawyer or something. For a few years, while I was in college, I began to wonder about working. It’s probably why most mafia girls aren’t allowed to go to school.”
“They don’t let you go to college?”
“Not usually. I only got to go because Eddie was busy himself with school. They wanted me to be quiet and occupied. Since there was no one telling me I could be a doctor or lawyer, I never aspired to it. But I would have been a shitty doctor or lawyer. They should let us go to work because I hate it. I don’t want to deal with micromanaging bosses and gossiping witches in the break room. I want to have kids, to create a home where they feel safe and loved. I’m aware it’s a simple dream. Not every woman wants to, and I get that. It’s what I know will make me happy.”
Her sigh is heavy. “Me too. I’m just worried it might never happen.”
“You and me both,” I mutter.
An hour later, I’m almost home when I get a text from Harriet wondering where I am and asking me to get home immediately. I respond I’m less than five minutes away. There’s no answer back. Huh.
I’m barely through the door when Harriet is there. “Oh, thank goodness, you’re home. Your father isn’t feeling well.” Which is code for my dad went overboard on coke and alcohol last night. “Dominic and Luca Sabatini are here to see you. They’re waiting in the study.”
I can’t believe they’re here to see me. Dominic Sabatini is the current underboss of the Outfit. His brother Luca runs the Outfit’s interests in Las Vegas. I’ve only met Luca a few times. While I’ve grown up attending the samela familiaevents as Dominic, I wouldn’t say I know him well.
Them here for me doesn’t make sense. Yet, the more I think about it, it had to be true. My father might be home right now, but he’s not supposed to be. His normal schedule puts him in his office in the Loop two hours ago until eight tonight.
Both men stand when I enter. Their manners are, as always, impeccable.
I sit down across from them, wondering what they want. “Can I offer you anything, coffee, espresso, whiskey?”
They both shake their head. Dominic smiles reassuringly. “We wanted to bring you an offer. Your father is not being told about this because it’s important to both me, Luca, and Manuel you only accept if it’s what you want. If it was up to your father, we are aware Manuel and his family are powerful enough your father might not give you a choice. Manuel Rodriguez needs a mother for his kids.”
My spine goes stiff. It can’t behim. It’s a common name.
“Manuel Rodriguez is someone I hope you haven’t heard of, but if you have, I promise he isn’t as scary as he sounds.”
Luca snorts.
“To women.” Dominic flashes him a look before returning his attention to me. “He was supposed to marry Luca’s woman. But she wasn’t interested. Manuel is adamant he only wants someone who also wants to marry. Since we want to keep the peace with Manuel and his family, we are hoping to find someone willing to marry in place of Luca’s woman. In the case of marriage contracts, money is between the men, your father and Manuel. While Manuel and his family have as much money as god, Luca is going to ensure you have a bank account only you have access to in case you ever need it.”
I’m trying not to throw up from the nerves twisting in my tummy. It doesn’t matter I’ve thought of him nearly every day since that night—no fucking way. Manuel Rodriguez is like wanting to go skydiving. The excitement and thrill are appealing for a moment in time, not for the rest of my life. I also couldn’t help wondering the whole time if my parachute would open or if I’d hit the ground with a bone-breaking force. All I can do is shake my head.
Luca sighs, he looks ready to stand. But Dominic offers me a smaller picture with Manuel glaring back at the camera. God, he’s even hotter in the picture than he was that night. “You sure? You two will have cute kids. His wife chose him over his brother who is the second in command and will one day control their family’s cartel.”
Wife? “He was married?”
Eyes narrowing, Luca nods. “His wife died almost three months ago. In that time, his kids have been watched by his mother, but she’s got health issues. This would be a marriage for the benefit of the kids. I don’t think it would be fair if I didn’t warn you the guy is the clinical definition of psychopath. He doesn’t do guilt, love, sadness—good thing is there’s also no anger or fear. Admittedly he doesn’t even feel lust. Sex is a thing he does like eating or sleeping. When his body needs it, he does it.”
I flash to the way it sure as hell felt like lust that night.
“He promised his previous fiancée he wouldn’t demand sex until she was comfortable with him. He has a few other women he keeps as mistresses, one in Colombia and a couple of different ones here in the States. If him not sleeping around is important to you, then you have to be clear with him about that from the beginning. Whether he would respect your wishes or not, I can’t say. He told his previous fiancée he had the other women because his wife told him she was fine with it.”
Psychopath? That’s why he seemed like a robot. No guilt is bad. No love was something I feared I might have to live with. Yet a guarantee I would never get love is too painful to consider.
Everyone has been talking about Luca and his new fiancée. Manuel was going to marry her? Was it before or after that night? Either one shouldn’t matter, but it does. Somehow, both are wrong. I want to say no, but I already did, and he kept pushing. “I need some time to think about it.”
