Maybe Cassio hadn’t wanted me, but he certainly wouldn’t allow anyone to take me away from him.
I held my breath. This was Dad’s home, and he ruled over this city. He only bowed down to Luca, certainly not to another Underboss.
At least, that was how it should have been.
Yet Dad cleared his throat and lowered his eyes. “I have no intention of canceling our arrangement. I was only making a point.”
What point?
Cassio’s expression asked the same question. Mom barged in that moment, completely oblivious to what was going on. “Dinner is ready!”
Her smile fell when she saw us.
Cassio held out his arm for me to take. I glanced at Dad, but he avoided my eyes. The message was clear: from this day on, Cassio would lead the way.
I put my palm on my fiancé’s strong forearm. If Dad couldn’t protect me anymore, that meant I’d have to protect myself. Cassio led me into the dining room, following Mom, who was babbling about possible color schemes for our wedding. Cassio probably didn’t care the slightest bit. As a man, he wouldn’t even have to pretend otherwise—unlike me, the happy future bride.
When we arrived at the dining table, he pulled out the chair for me.
“Thank you.” I sank down, smoothing out my dress.
Cassio took the seat across from me. His eyes lingered on my bangs before they moved on to my flower earrings, probably deciding what new haircut he’d order me to get and what jewelry to buy for me.
He wanted to turn me into the wife he wanted, mold me like clay. Maybe he thought my age made me a spineless marionette that would bow down to her master at the slightest tug at her strings.
I met his gaze. I’d learned the subtle art of getting my way with a smile and kindness, the only way a woman could get what she wanted in our world. Would it work with Cassio? Dad always melted when I batted my lashes, but I had a feeling Cassio wouldn’t be easily swayed.
A week later, two packages filled with dresses, skirts, and blouses arrived on our doorstep. Mom could hardly contain her excitement as she unpacked clothes by Max Mara, Chanel, Ted Baker, and many other of her favorite designers. The dresses were pretty and elegant. They weren’t me at all.
I understood Cassio’s need to portray a certain image to the public, and at official events I definitely wouldn’t have worn my sunflower dress, I just wished he’d asked me to buy a few elegant clothes and not bought them for me as if he didn’t value my opinion—which was, of course, the case.
The four months until November flew by—an endless row of sleepless nights, teary tantrums, and hard workdays.
On the morning of my bachelor night, I squatted in front of Daniele. He was staring down at the iPad, watching a series he liked. His hair was tousled in the front and knotted in the back, but he refused to let Sybil comb it. I hadn’t had the patience to hold him while she did it. We’d have to buzz it short once the wedding was over. “Daniele, I need to talk to you.”
He didn’t look up. I reached for the iPad, but he twisted around. “Give it to me.”
His small shoulders rounded in. It was his only reaction. I grabbed the device and pulled it away. “Soon someone will move in with us. She’ll be your new mom. She’ll take care of you and Simona.”
Daniele’s face scrunched up, and he threw himself at me, pummeling my legs with his little fists. “That’s enough,” I thundered, grabbing his arms.
My anger disappeared seeing tears running down his face. “Daniele.”
I tried to hug him to my chest, but he squirmed away. Eventually, I released him. In the days after Gaia’s death, Daniele had sought my closeness; now he was back to ignoring me. I wasn’t sure what Gaia had told him before her death, but it was clear that it made Daniele resent me.
I put the iPad down in front of him then straightened. Without another word, I left and went upstairs to Simona’s room. The nanny hurried out. In a few days, I’d finally be able to get rid of the nannies, and Giulia would take care of Simona. I bent over the crib. Simona stared up at me and smiled a toothless grin. I gently slipped my palms under her tiny body and lifted her into my arms. Cradling her against my chest, I stroked her dark blond head. Both Daniele and she had inherited their mother’s hair color and eyes. Pressing a kiss to Simona’s forehead, I remembered the first time I did it two days after she was born. Gaia had refused to have me present while she gave birth to our daughter and only allowed me near her on the second day. Anger resurfaced as it always did when I remembered the past. Simona babbled, and I kissed her forehead again. She cried when someone other than my sisters, mother, or I held her. I could only hope she’d quickly grow used to Giulia’s presence.
I put her back down even though her cries tore at my heart. I needed to get ready for a meeting with Luca and then my bachelor night after.
An hour before the official start of my bachelor night, which Faro had organized for me, I met with Luca in my office. He and his wife Aria had arrived a day early so he could see how business was going in Philadelphia. He wouldn’t find reason to worry. I’d forgone sleep to make sure everything worked smoothly in my city. Luca and I settled on the armchairs in my office. I was surprised he’d agreed to come along to my stag party. Since his marriage to Aria, he’d pulled back a bit.
“My aunt went all out with the wedding planning,” Luca said as he lounged in the armchair. “She thought of everything from doves and ice sculptures to silk bed linen.”
White silk bed linen. Linen I was supposed to stain with my young wife’s blood on our wedding night.
I took a sip from my scotch then lowered it. “There won’t be a presentation of the sheets because I won’t be sleeping with Giulia.”
Luca lowered his glass slowly, his gray eyes narrowing. He knew it wasn’t because of Gaia, even if I hadn’t been with another woman since her death. “It’s tradition. It has been for centuries.”
“I know and I honor our traditions, but there won’t be a presentation of sheets this time.” Those words could very well mean my downfall. It wasn’t my choice to ignore our traditions. Only Luca could make that decision, and it was clear he wouldn’t. I’d considered sleeping with Giulia. She was pretty, but I couldn’t get the image of her innocent, wide eyes out of my head or how young she’d looked in her ridiculous clothes without a touch of makeup. The women of my past had been my age—grown women that could take what I gave.
“With your first marriage, you had no trouble following our tradition. It’s not something you can follow as you see fit,” Luca said sharply.
“The last time I married, the woman was close to me in age. I’m almost fourteen years older than my future wife. She called me ‘sir’ the first time she saw me. She’s a girl.”
“She is of age, Cassio. Today is her birthday.”
I nodded. “You know I do what you ask me to do. You know I rule over Philadelphia without mercy as you expect me to do, but even I have certain lines I’m not willing to cross, and I won’t force myself on a girl.”
“She’s of age and nobody says you have to use force,” Luca repeated and I lost my shit.
I crashed the glass down on the table. “That she is, but I’d still feel like I was manhandling her. You can’t honestly believe she will come willingly into my bed. Perhaps she will submit because she knows it’s her only option, but that’s not willing. I have a daughter, Luca, and I wouldn’t want her to be with a man thirteen years her senior.”
Luca regarded me for a long time, maybe considering putting a bullet in my head. He didn’t tolerate defiance. “You will present sheets after your wedding night, Cassio.” I opened my mouth to refuse him again. “No discussion. How you create bloody sheets is up to you.”
I sat back, wary. “What is it you are suggesting?”
“I’m not suggesting anything,” Luca said. “I’m only telling you that I want to see bloody sheets, and I and everyone else will take them as proof of your wife’s honor and your ruthlessness as is expected.”
Maybe I was wrong, but I was fairly certain Luca was suggesting I fake the bloody sheets. I took another sip of my scotch, wondering if Luca had experience faking blood stains. I had been at the presentation of the sheets after his wedding night with Aria, but even as I tried, I couldn’t imagine Luca sparing anyone. I had seen him ripping out a man’s tongue for disrespecting Aria and had been there when he’d crushed his uncle’s throat. Maybe he was testing me. Maybe he was suggesting something like that so he could see if I was too weak to bed my wife. Growing up in our world, I’d learned to see the warning signs. If I failed a test given by my Capo, the end result was inevitable. I’d be removed from my position in the only acceptable way—by death. While I didn’t fear dying, I loathed the idea of what that would mean for Daniele and Simona. They’d cruelly lost their mother. If I, too, abandoned them, it would cause horrible trauma to my kids.
Showing any kind of weakness in this situation would be fatal. I would not risk my children’s health nor my position as Underboss.