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“Check up on me? Why in the hell would you think I need checking up on?”
Topher follows me as I head out of the gym.
“Well, I just spoke to Ma, and according to her, you’re getting married in a few months. Imagine my surprise when I heard that, bro. Because I haven’t seen you with one woman more than once, talk less of one you would propose to or even willingly get married to.”
He’s fishing for information, which means Mom didn’t tell him more than he needs to know. Which suits me perfectly, because the mafia world doesn’t need to know about the intricacies of this arrangement until I want them to. And Topher is notorious for spreading important information about our family. He does it to cause chaos. It used to drive our father nuts, and I’m not about to walk the same path.
My jaw clenches at the thought of our father. Carman D’Angelo passed away a year ago and his absence still feels like an empty hole in the middle of my chest. I’ll never admit it to anyone, but I miss my old man. I miss his hard gaze and perpetual frowns, but most of all, I miss his unflinching presence and the reassurance that as long as he was around, everything would be okay. We don’t have that anymore. All we’ve got is me.
“Are you going to answer me or not?” Topher demands once we’re in my bedroom.
He takes a seat in my chair, flipping through the pages of a book I had been reading last night. His mouth curves upward as he takes in the contents of the book.
“You’re starting to piss me off,” I state.
“I’m always pissing you off.” He puts the book back down on the table before looking at me. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”
“In case you aren’t aware, little brother, I’m the Don. I don’t need to tell you anything.”
Topher smirks. “Your new title is certainly doing wonders for your already over-inflated ego.”
If it were anyone else saying something like that to me, they would be dead. Topher likes to take advantage of the privilege he has with my blood running through his veins. I keep my gaze trained on his face, making sure to convey just how thin the ice he’s on is right now. I might not be able to kill Topher, but I could make him regret his actions. He used to be on the unforgiving end of Father’s stick—he doesn’t want to be on mine.
His throat bobs with a hard swallow as he stares at me.
“Hey, I’m sorry, Christian. I’m just worried, alright? This whole thing seems out of the blue. I just wanted to know a little about my new sister-in-law.”
I let out a quick breath before looking away from him. “Her name is Daniella Evans.”
“Ooh, I’ve heard of her. She’s the heiress to the Evans Industries, right? Damn, bro. I’ve seen her around and you could have done much worse. So, how did you meet her?”
Out of all three brothers, Topher’s the one with the least inclination about what our world entails. He spends his days partying, having fun, traveling the globe and I think even running from the truth of our lives. He’s naïve when it comes to the inner workings of the family. I blame my parents for keeping him away from who we are, but there’s no use crying over that. He’s not in it, never will be, but he’s still a D’Angelo. There are certain things he needs to understand.
“I haven’t met her,” I reply, taking off the black tank top I had on and putting on a white shirt.
Topher is silent as I get dressed in a crisp black suit, sans tie, of course. As the Don, I’m supposed to dress formal, put together, but a tie is constricting and only adds to the sense of restriction my new title already brings me.
“What do you mean, you haven’t met her?” my brother questions.
“Since you’re an idiot who can’t read between the lines, I’ll spell it out for you,” I say, keeping my face a mask of calm despite my growing irritation. “My wedding to Ms. Evans is a business arrangement I can’t get out of. Mom told me about it two months ago, after the dust settled and I had gathered the stronghold that came with my new position.”
“Business arrangement?” my brother asks, confused. “This doesn’t make any sense. If this is about your marriage, then why hadn’t you heard about it before?”
“Because, Christopher, the deal was apparently stuck about twenty-one years ago when I was only a child. The terms were that the Evans’ daughter would marry the next Don of the family after Father. Until Father died, there was no need to mention it to me as I wasn’t the Don yet, but now that he’s gone, the deal is in full effect. Our grandfather made it with Lucas Evans. He owes us a debt, and the D’Angelos never forget to collect on a debt.”
Those last words have been ringing in my head for the past two months. Ever since I found out about the marriage deal. At first, I told my mother point-blank that I couldn’t do it. But then she sat me down and, in that infuriatingly calm way, she explained what it would mean for our family and how proud Father would be if I went through with it. Those are the magic words: tell me my father would be proud and I’ll do literally fucking anything.
I arranged a meeting with Lucas Evans immediately, asking to meet his daughter, but he asked for some time. According to him, Daniella’s still in college. He wants to tell her about her impending marriage after she’s done.
She graduated two weeks ago.
Christopher’s expression is grim. “The debt you’re talking about is an innocent woman.”
“Her father made a deal that sold her to me. And don’t refer to her as ‘innocent’ when you don’t know a thing about her,” I say.
“I told you, Chris, I’ve seen her around. Talked to her a few times. Daniella’s a sweetheart. I mean, she can be fucking crazy, but she’s also nice and, like, the opposite of you. This is a match made in hell.”
It grates on my nerves that he’s had contact with the woman I’m supposed to marry before I’ve had a chance to. I can barely summon a vivid memory of how she looks, despite also having run into her at one or two social functions. She has never appealed to me and I’ve never found the need to seek her out, considering how dull most heiresses can be. Now I have to marry her and I don’t know a thing about her.
