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My temper flares at the memory. I turn to my father. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll be flying to South Africa to fetch Sabella myself.”
He studies me with a sly expression. “Why haven’t you told her about the deal or our business? If she’s going to be your wife, she needs to know.”
For her to despise me more than she already does? I’ve been living with judgment and the curse of a bad name my whole life. I’m used to people’s scorn. What difference does hers make? The problem is that I got used to her kindness, love, and admiration. I always knew I was going to destroy those sentiments—had to destroy them if I were to take my promised cut of the business and make her mine—but I never could’ve guessed how much I’d like all that sweetness she lavished on me.
“I’ll tell her when the time is right,” I say.
“You better be sure you can trust her. If she runs to the media or the authorities—”
“I’ll handle her.”
“I damn well hope so.” He catches my gaze with a dark look. “Because you know what you’ll have to do if she becomes a threat to our family.”
Kill her. I don’t think so. I’d rather chain her up in the basement.
“And that will be a shame,” my father continues. “Seeing that this wedding is costing a damn fortune.”
My smile is grim. “It’s not like we can’t afford it.”
He pushes the bowl away. “Having plenty doesn’t mean you have to waste it.”
“Don’t worry.” Fuck, I need a cup of coffee. “I’ll make sure it’s not wasted.”
“Oh, Ang,” Adeline exclaims, running into the room and slamming her palms over her mouth. “I just saw it.” Her eyes sparkle. “The wedding dress. Oh my God. It’s amazing. She’s going to look so beautiful.”
My mother follows on my sister’s heels, wearing an off-white designer suit with black stitching on the collar and a thin black belt. Paired with a black patent leather handbag and shoes, she looks classy and wealthy, exactly the way my father likes her to dress.
“Don’t give your brother any descriptions,” my mother says with alarm. “He’s not allowed to know anything about the dress before the big day.” She frowns as she addresses me. “I wish you’d let Sabella try the dress on before. What if she doesn’t like it?”
“Maman.” Adeline clasps her hands together. “It’s perfect. There’s nothing not to like.”
My mother adjusts her silk scarf. “All women have different tastes, not to mention that the dress may not fit properly.”
“It’ll be fine,” I say. “She’ll be here at least a couple of days before the wedding. If alterations are necessary, there’ll be time.”
“Well,” my mother says, pushing the handle of the handbag over her forearm. “The dressmaker will be on standby just in case. He offered to come for the wedding and help her dress.”
That last bit catches my attention. “He?”
“Don’t worry.” My mother pats my arm. “It’s his job. It’s like a doctor seeing patients.”
“No.” My tone leaves no room for argument. “No man will help my bride get dressed.”
Adeline laughs. “You’re so jealous, Ang, and you’re not even married yet.”
I clench my jaw. “Married or not, it makes no difference.”
“We have bigger problems than Angelo’s jealousy.” Addressing me, my mother continues, “I have an appointment with the baker in Bastia to sample the cake, and it looks like my car has a flat tire. I’m already late as it is.”
I leave my glass on the table. “I’ll have a look.”
“Thank you,” she says, blowing out a sigh.
My father pushes to his feet. “Couldn’t he bring the cake here?”
“There are so many options,” my mother says, looking flustered. “It’s easier to do it in the shop. There’s frosting to consider, and colors, and decorations—”
“You know what?” Adeline hooks her arm through my mother’s. “Why don’t I come with you? It’ll be fun, no?”
“But…” My mother works her lip between her teeth. “What about your classes?”
“I can miss my classes for one day. We’re closing for the holiday next week anyway.”
“No,” I say. “Eating cake is not a valid reason for missing your course.”
“Guess what, brother?” Adeline bats her eyelashes. “The three seconds difference in our age doesn’t make you my boss.”
“The three-second argument is getting old, sister.”
“Please, Papa?” She pouts. “I haven’t been involved in any of the wedding arrangements because I always have class.”
My father looks at my mother.
My mother gives him a soft smile. “A wedding is a once-in-a-lifetime event. Men may not think much of it, but it’s one of the most important days in a woman’s life.”
My father swallows. For a second, guilt flashes across his face, but he quickly hides it with a curt reply. “Fine. Go then. But you will catch up with the work you’ll be missing.”
“Thank you, Papa.” Adeline scoots over and kisses his cheek. “My grades are always good. Are they not? You don’t have to worry.”
