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“Disregarding herallegedreputation,” Dante dismisses the notion with a wave, “we would like to buy out the marriage contract to Rocco Castiglione.”
Once again, Leonardo cuts off Giovanni before he can speak. “The marriage contract between Rocco and Christine has already been signed and sealed by Saverio Castiglione. He has already announced certainrewardsfor this gracious gift of marrying my granddaughter to his most fearsome enforcer. Can you match those benefits?”
“Does this thing of ours have a 401k now?” Niccolo glares. “A retirement plan? An arrangement where you get to live out the rest of your days in Boca Raton? Just come right out and tell us what you want.”
“So that’s a no.” Leonardo settles into his seat, sinking back as he crosses his hands over the broadest part of his stomach.
Niccolo abruptly begins to stand up, but Dante and I swiftly place a hand on his shoulder, halting him in his tracks. He pauses and then slowly sits back down, muttering curses in Italian under his breath.
“$25,000,” Dante offers. “And we’ll pay it today.”
Giovanni snorts at the number, unimpressed. “That’s a pathetic offer, and you know it.”
“What Iknowis that your dealings with the Castiglione family depend upon Rocco and Christine getting married, which isn’t happening until June. So, if something were to happen to either of them, it would be a shame you didn’t get your coveted spot. Wouldn’t it, Leonardo?” Dante has been dancing around the edges since the meeting began, but now he’s taking the gloves off.
To their credit, no one on the Lucatello side of the table even flinches. I think Giovanni pales slightly, but he defers response to his father. I don’t think he expected Dante to know aboutLeonardo’s temporary role within the family, a role that will escalate to a permanent position once I’m officially Mrs. Rocco Castiglione.
Leonardo recovers quickly enough, and he gives Dante a nod of respect. “As to your offer,” he returns, “we get the $25,000 whether or not she makes it down the aisle?”
“Correct.” Dante shoots a look at Luciano, who pulls a briefcase out from under the table. “You can walk away with it today. All you have to do is say the word.”
I’m holding my breath, crossing my fingers, and praying my grandfather agrees. I can’t marry a wife killer. I won’t survive if I’m forced to stay at home and bear Rocco’s children for the rest of my life. I’ll die if I’m required to be submissive and obedient.
“You’re a good replacement for your father,” Leonardo begins. “You drive a hard bargain. I expect that one day, you’ll be less of a pup and more of a wolf, but you’re just starting out. You don’t have the experience my sons do. You don’t have their killer instinct. But I expect you’ll learn it. One day, you’re going to be a formidable adversary.”
With a controlled and deliberate movement, Luciano gradually lowers the sleek, black briefcase back to the floor. The air around us seems to shift, and I can sense the tension mounting. As my eyes scan the faces of those gathered around the table, it becomes clear that the tides of power are shifting.
Niccolo’s normally confident demeanor fades, his face paling with worry, while Marco’s features betray a hint of amusement.
“But you overplay your hand. What you’re offering is an insult; I expect you’re aware of that. It’s a lowball offer meant to warn me, but I’m not afraid of you, Terlizzi. You are not yet aformidable opponent. So take your $25,000 and your warning, and shove them up your ass.”
I’m as good as dead. I’m going to have to marry Rocco. I know Nic says he has another plan, but how will he ever get it past my grandfather?
Chapter 40
Niccolo
Ilean in close to Christine, whispering soothing words in her ear. “It’s okay,” I reassure her, my voice barely audible. “It’s going to be okay.”
Dante, irritated, glances at us from the front seat. “What’s wrong with her?”
In truth, I have no idea. When Leonardo rejected the money, something inside of Christine snapped. Since then, she has been staring off into the distance, lost in her own thoughts. Even as I guided her from the restaurant to the car, her gaze remained fixed ahead, devoid of expression.
“Shock, maybe.” I speculate. Taking her hand, I gently bring it to my lips, pressing kisses to her knuckles and fingertips. “What’s wrong, Christine? Tell me how I can help you.”
Luciano interrupts our conversation, announcing, “Sally’s free. He claims he’s best friends with the guys who were keeping an eye on him.”
I can hear Dante roll his eyes; that’s how sarcastic the air in the car becomes. Though I smile at the two of them, I give my fullattention to Christine. “We anticipated this,dolcezza. We knew all along that your uncle would refuse our offer. This is not the end.”
Something I say breaks through the wall she’s built up. Slowly, Christine turns her head to meet my gaze. There is a deep sense of longing in her eyes, a hollowness that threatens to shatter me into a million pieces. “Someone is going to die,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “They will kill one of us.”
I wrap my arms around Christine and pull her into me. She’s stopped by the seatbelt, but I don’t care. I unbuckle mine and scoot closer until her head is on my chest. “No one is going to die,” I respond in a soothing tone.
But something about her prediction makes me uneasy. I fight the uncomfortable feeling growing in my chest for the rest of the drive to Dante’s; I pretend not to notice it when I put Christine to bed in one of the spare rooms. But the minute the door closes behind me, the weight of her words weighs me down.
“Is she okay?” Dante’s voice startles me, causing me to jump nearly a foot in the air.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” I hiss at him, realizing he has been lurking in the hallway without my knowledge.
