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“You said it not me,lupacchiotta.”
Elena lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Whatever.” Something shifts in her expression and she grins. “So, I hear you’re getting married to some airline heiress. Brenda?”
“Bianca,” I correct for the second time today. I can’t help an amused smile. “Her name’s Bianca. And who told you?”
“My dad mentioned it,” she replies. “Right after he informed me about my imminent engagement to your cousin.”
“What?”
Green eyes turn to me curiously. “You didn’t know?”
I had my suspicions, but no one bothered to tell me the Legans were planning to marry her off to Ivan.
“Of all fucking people, Ivan?” I spit.
“You still don’t like him,” Elena says.
“I don’t want you getting married to him,” I retort.
Her eyebrow lifts. “And who, pray tell, would you rather I get married to?”
I may be the Don, but it’s not like I have any say in who marries who. Especially since she’s Salvador’s daughter. But imagining her walking down the aisle to marry my cousin makes my blood boil.
“Anyone but him,” I say, looking her in the eye.
Elena looks away first. “Well, it doesn’t matter because I’m not marrying him. Not only is Cassie’s existence a pretty big chink in my dad’s plans, I also have zero interest in him.”
That makes me relax. Slightly. “So, who do you have an interest in? Got a boyfriend?”
She laughs. “God, no. When would I even get one? When I was heavily pregnant in London? Or now while I’ve got a three-month-old baby? I doubt dating’s in the cards for me any time soon. All I’m focused on right now is Cassie.”
“Yeah, alright,” I say, nodding.
“Now, back to you. How’s your relationship going with the heiress?”
I tense slightly. I’ve tried hard not to think about Bianca in the past week. She’s been blowing up my phone with texts asking to meet up, but I’ve been ignoring them. She’s just another item on my long list of problems. Granted, she might be bigger than most.
“We don’t actually have a relationship,” I find myself saying.
“My dad told me you already signed a marriage contract and everything.”
“I signed an agreement stating I would marry her,” I say, already regretting that decision. “Apart from that, we’ve gone on a few dates. There’s not much going on.”
“Oh,” Elena says quietly. “But you still signed a contract. You gave your word, and Ricardo always used to say that—”
“A man is only as good as his word,” I interject through gritted teeth. “Trust me, I’m aware.”
“So you have to marry her.”
“I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to.”
Elena looks like she doesn’t quite believe me, but she drops it.
“Are you hungry? I could cook for us.”
Her words remind me that I haven’t eaten anything since before we left for church.
“Sure,” I reply tentatively. “But I’d rather not die.”
