***
I stared at my reflection. The dress was gorgeous; the chapel train fanned out behind me, the platinum embroidery glittering wherever the sunlight hit it, and the empire waist was accentuated by a white satin ribbon.
“I love the sweetheart neckline. It gives you a breathtaking cleavage,” Aunt Livia gushed. She was Valentina’s mother.
“Luca will surely appreciate it,” Aunt Ornatella said.
Something on my face must have made my mother realize I was close to having a nervous breakdown, so she ushered my aunts out. “Let the three girls have a moment.”
Gianna stepped into view beside me. Her red hair contrasted beautifully with the mint dress. She opened the box with the necklace. Diamonds and pearls surrounded by intricate white gold threads. “Luca doesn’t spare any costs, does he? That necklace and your headpiece probably cost more than most people pay for their house.”
The conversation and laughter of the gathered guests carried up from the gardens through the open window into the room. Every now and then a clunk could be heard.
“What’s that noise?” I asked, trying to distract myself. Gianna walked over to the window and peered out. “The men are taking off their guns and putting them into plastic boxes.”
“How many?”
Gianna cocked an eyebrow.
“How many guns does each man put away?”
“One.” She frowned, then it dawned on her, and I nodded grimly. “Only a fool would leave the house with less than two guns.”
“Then why the show?”
“It’s symbolic,” I said. Like this horrid wedding.
“But if they all want peace, why not attend unarmed? It’s a wedding, after all.”
“There have been red weddings before. I saw pictures from a wedding where you couldn’t tell the color of the bride’s dress anymore. It was soaked in blood.”
Lily shuddered. “That won’t happen today, right?”
Anything was possible. “No, Chicago and New York need each other too much. They can’t risk spilling blood among each other as long as the Bratva and the Taiwanese pose a threat.”
Gianna snorted. “Oh great, that’s comforting.”
“It is,” I said firmly. “At least we know nobody will come to harm today.” My stomach twisted into a knot. Except for me, maybe. Probably.
Gianna wrapped her arms around me from behind and rested her chin on my bare shoulder. “We could still run. We could get you out of your dress and sneak out. They’re all busy. Nobody would notice.”
Lily nodded her head vigorously and got up from where she’d perched on the bed.
Luca would notice. I forced a brave smile. “No. It’s too late.”
“It’s not,” Gianna hissed. “Don’t give up.”
“There would be blood on my hands if I broke the agreement. They would kill each other in retribution.”
“They all have blood on their hands. Every single fucking person in the garden.”
“Don’t curse.”
“Really? A lady doesn’t curse,” Gianna mimicked our Father’s voice. “Where did it get you to behave like an obedient little lady?”
I looked away. She was right. It had brought me straight into the arms of one of the deadliest men in the country.
“I’m sorry,” Gianna whispered. “I didn’t mean it.”
I linked our fingers. “I know. And you are right. Most of the people in the garden have blood on their hands and would deserve to die, but they are our family, the only one we got. And there are innocents like Fabiano.”
“Fabiano will have blood on his hands soon enough,” Gianna said bitterly. “He’ll become a killer.”
I didn’t deny it. Fabiano would start his initiation process at twelve. If what Umberto had said was true, Luca had killed his first man at eleven. “But he’s innocent now, and there are other children out there as well, and women.”
Gianna fixed me with a hard look in the mirror. “Do you really believe that one of us is innocent?”
Being born into our world meant being born with blood on your hands. With every breath we took, sin was engraved deeper into our skin. Born in blood. Sworn in blood like the motto of the New York Cosa Nostra. “No.”
Gianna smiled grimly. Lily walked over to the bed and picked up my veil attached to the headpiece. I bent my knees so she could fix it atop my head. She gently smoothed it out.
“I wish you were marrying for love. I wish we could giggle about your wedding night. I wish you didn’t look so fucking sad,” Gianna said fiercely.
The silence between us stretched. Lily eventually nodded toward the bed. “Is this where you’ll sleep tonight?”