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I felt confusion fill me coupled with a good dose of apprehension. “Changed how?” As if my life wasn’t already a mess.
“Your father just got off the phone with the Petrov’s.”
My heart sank into my belly and I felt a rolling tide of nausea settle into me. The only thing worse than being tied to a man I didn’t love and had never met a single day in my life, was if he called off the engagement. It would bring shame upon my father, on our whole entire family. I’d be seen as tainted, worthless… not good enough to even be sold off by my family.
AndIwould be the sole reason for it all, even if I’d had nothing to do with it, even if I couldn’t have offended anyone aside from just simply breathing.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “What does that mean?”
I could see the tension around her eyes. “Your father got you a personal guard until the wedding, and then…” she glanced around and looked at my closet once more. “And plans have moved up.”
My pulse raced and I shifted on my feet. I wasn’t surprised about the guard. We’d always had soldiers following us, men watching out for the Bianchi family whenever we left the house given who my father was. Marco Bianchi had many enemies, people who’d kill us to get to him.
But I’d never had a personal one myself. So that meanteither there were threats that I’d never been privy to knowing that were too close to us, or maybe my father--or my future husband--was afraid something would happen to me… or that I’d run.
Not that the latter wasn’t something that would ever happen. I was too “watched”, and truthfully, too afraid to even try leaving. I had no money, nothing of value. What was I supposed to do, live under a bridge, beg for change just so I could eat? I’d never survive, not with men out there who’d use and abuse me as much as the men in the mafia world would.
“What do you mean things have moved up?” I normally didn’t press, but the words spilled out of me before I could stop them.
She turned back around without answering me and started pushing hangers aside, inspecting each dress. “This won’t do. Not at all.” She faced me once more. “We need to go dress shopping tomorrow.” She nodded. “And we’ll have lunch with Maria and her daughter. Keep up appearances.” She sounded like she was speaking to herself.
With each passing second I was getting increasingly antsy, a lump forming in my throat as I thought about all the possible things that could go wrong… even more than they were.
“Have things beencanceled?” I whispered that last word, holding onto hope, but also feeling a spike of fear. I didn’t want this arranged marriage, but at the same time if Nikolai Petrov called off the wedding for whatever reason, I would be the one who suffered for it. The brunt of my father’s wrath landing on my shoulder because I wasn’t “good enough.”
“Dmitry Petrov called your father this afternoon, said he wants the engagement and wedding pushed up.”
I swallowed roughly, not sure how to take that. I hadn't known when the wedding actually was, the only details I’d been told was that it was happening. For some reason I thought I'd have a long while before things went through, before everything was finalized. Weddings took a long time, right? Right?
Seemed like I’d been wrong.
“Nikolai and Dmitry Petrov are flying in this weekend. We’re having dinner here.” My mother smoothed her hands down her perfectly pressed dress. “They want to discuss a firm date for the wedding in person, and I’m sure Mr. Petrov wants to meet you officially.”
I wasn’t fool enough to think Nikolai cared anything about me, not about anything of importance. I’m sure he wanted tomake sure I wasn’t a homely spinster, or had a disfigurement. Not that any of that would stop him from this marriage, not when it meant more power all around.
The most pressing issue for him was probably that he wanted to get a feel of my father in his own atmosphere, to witness with his own eyes how much power and connections Marco Bianchi actually had… how much Nikolai would gain by marrying into the Bianchi family.
I wanted to curse, wanted to deny it all and tell my mother I would not do this. But I was a good Italian girl. I had learned my place in this world, where I stood with my family. And so I pressed my lips together and kept all thoughts to myself. It was safer that way. Even if I trusted my mother, and knew she empathized with me, my disobedience--as my father would see it--would no doubt get back to him.
“Okay,” I finally said.
My mother gave a firm nod and faced my closet once more. “You need to make yourself presentable,” she said without looking at me. “You need to look your best so Mr. Petrov sees your worth.”
Yeah, like superficial beauty was all any female in this world had to offer.
“Amara, you need to meet the new guard your father will have with you until the wedding.” She started murmuring under her breath again.
“New guard? What about the ones I’ve used before?”
She started murmuring in Italian again as she looked at my closet. “No, no. They’ve been reassigned. More pressing issues, your father tells me. Your father wants you downstairs to introduce you to Edoardo. He’s been highly recommended by Lorenzo.”
I turned that information over in my head. “Lorenzo? Maria’s husband? Francesca’s father?”
My mother hummed her answer but otherwise didn’t say anything else.
“But why would Lorenzo just give up one of his men? Surely father has others?” Not that it mattered one way or another who watched over me, but I was curious on why my father would take another guard from one of his soldiers when I knew he had men at his disposal.
My mother glanced at me and scowled. “We don’t question what your father decides, especially when he wants you protected.”
