by Cora Reilly
“Have you ever considered that I’m protecting guys who don’t know who Aria is?” he asked.
I frowned.
“Luca would kill anyone who dared to touch you. Of course, you could go out, flirt with a guy and move on, because you wouldn’t be the one Luca would gut.”
“Luca isn’t my fiancé,” Gianna said.
“Your father would kill any man that got near you, because he wouldn’t want anyone to spoil his most prized possessions.”
For the first time, I realized the fact that I’d been given to Luca didn’t mean Gianna wouldn’t be forced to marry someone else. I felt suddenly very tired. “I’m going to bed.”
I lay awake most of the night, thinking of ways to get out of the wedding, but the only option would be to run, and while Gianna would definitely come with me, what about Liliana? I couldn’t keep them both safe. And what about Fabiano? What about my mother? I couldn’t leave everything behind. This was my life. I didn’t know anything else. Maybe I was a coward, though marrying a man like Luca probably required more courage than running away.
CHAPTER FOUR
The living room of the suite was decorated for the bridal shower. I’d hoped to be spared that tradition, but my mother had insisted it would be an affront to the women of Luca’s family if they couldn’t meet me before the wedding.
I smoothed out the green cocktail dress. It was a color that was supposed to bring good luck. I knew my interpretation of what would be good luck at this point differed widely from Luca’s and my father’s opinions.
Lily wasn’t allowed to attend the bridal shower since she was deemed too young, but Gianna had argued her way into staying. Though I worried that there might be another reason behind Mother’s agreement. Gianna had turned seventeen a few days ago. That meant she was almost old enough to be married off as well. I pushed the thought aside. I could hear Mother and Gianna arguing in the bedroom about what Gianna was supposed to wear when a knock sounded at the suite door. It was a bit early; the guests weren’t supposed to arrive for another ten minutes.
I opened the door. Valentina stood in front of me, Umberto behind her. She was my cousin but five years older than me. Her mother and my mother were sisters. She smiled apologetically. “I know I’m early.”
“It’s okay,” I said, stepping back so she could walk in. Umberto sat back on the chair outside my door. I really liked Valentina, so I didn’t mind spending some time alone with her. She was tall and graceful, with dark brown, almost black hair and eyes that were the darkest green imaginable. She wore a black dress with a pencil skirt that reached her knees. Her husband Antonio had died six months ago, and my wedding would be the first time that she’d wear something other than black. Sometimes widows, especially older women, were expected to wear mourning attire for a year after their husband’s death, but Valentina was only twenty-three. Luca’s age. I caught myself wishing her husband had died sooner so she could have married Luca, and then I felt horrible. I shouldn’t be thinking like that. Romero hovered beside the window.
“Could you please wait outside? A bridal shower is no place for a man.”
He tilted his head, then walked out without another word.
“Your husband sent you his own bodyguard?” Valentina asked.
“He isn’t my husband yet.”
“No, you’re right. You look sad,” she said with a knowing expression as she sank down on the sofa. Champagne, soft drinks and an array of finger food were set up on a table behind it.
I swallowed. “So do you.” And I felt immediately stupid for saying something like that.
“My father wants me to remarry,” she said, twisting her wedding band.
My eyes widened. “So soon?”
“Not right away. Apparently he’s already talking to someone.”
I couldn’t believe it. “Can’t you say no? You were already married.”
“But it was a childless marriage, and I’m too young to stay alone. I had to move back in with my family. My father insisted on it to protect me.”
We both knew that code. Women always needed protection from the outside world, especially if they were of a marriageable age. “I’m sorry,” I said.
“It is what it is. You know that as well as I do.”
I laughed bitterly. “Yeah.”
“I saw your future husband when I visited the Vitiello mansion with my parents yesterday. He’s…imposing.”
“Terrifying,” I added quietly. Valentina’s expression softened, but our conversation was cut short when Mother and Gianna came out of the bedroom. And soon after that more guests arrived.
The gifts were everything from lingerie and jewelry to certificates for a day at a luxury spa in New York. The lingerie was the worst though, and when I opened the gift from Luca’s stepmother Nina I had trouble keeping a straight face. I lifted the barely there white nightgown and smiled tightly. The entire middle was see-through, and it was so short it wouldn’t even cover much of my legs. Beneath it in the gift box was an even smaller piece of clothing: white lace panties that would reveal most of my butt and were held together by a bow in the back. A chorus of appreciative murmurs came from the women around me.
I gaped at the lingerie. Gianna tipped her finger inconspicuously against her temple.
“This is for your wedding night,” Nina said with a calculating glint in her eyes. “I bet Luca will love unwrapping you. We need to please our husbands. Luca will certainly expect something this daring.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
Had Luca set his stepmother up to give this to me? I wouldn’t put it past him. Not after he’d gotten birth control for me. My stomach twisted with worry, and it only got worse when the women started talking about their wedding nights.
“I was so embarrassed when it was time for the presentation of the sheets!” Luca’s cousin Cosima stage-whispered.
“The presentation of the sheets?” I asked.
Nina’s smile was patronizing when she said, “Didn’t your mother explain it to you?”
I glanced at my mother who pressed her lips together, two red blotches appearing on her cheeks.
“It’s a Sicilian tradition that the Famiglia has proudly upheld for generations,” Nina explained, eyes fixed on my face. “After the wedding night, the women of the groom’s family come to the bridal pair to collect the sheets they spent the night on. Then those sheets are presented to the fathers of the bride and the groom and whoever else wants to see proof that the marriage has been consummated and that the bride was pure.”
Cosima giggled. “It’s also called the tradition of the bloody sheets for that reason.”
My face was frozen.
“That’s a barbaric tradition!” Gianna hissed. “Mother, you can’t allow it.”
“It’s not up to me,” Mother said.
“That’s right. We won’t abandon our traditions.” Nina turned to me. “And from what I know you’ve been well-protected from male attention, so there’s nothing for you to fear. The sheets will prove your honor.”
Gianna’s lips curled, but all I could think about was that this tradition meant I definitely had to sleep with Luca.
CHAPTER FIVE
The afternoon before the wedding day, my family moved out of the Mandarin Oriental and headed for the Vitiello mansion in the Hamptons. It was a huge building inspired by Italian palazzos, surrounded by almost three acres of park-like grounds. The driveway was long and winding, and led past four double garages and two guesthouses until it ended in front of the mansion with its white front and red shingled roof. White marble statues stood at the base of the double staircase leading up to the front door.
Inside, coffered ceilings, white marble columns and floors, and a view of the bay and the long pool through the panoramic windows took my breath away. Luca’s father and stepmother led us toward the second floor of the left wing, where our bedrooms were situated.
Gianna and I insisted on sharing a room. I didn’t care if it made us look
immature. I needed her at my side. From the window we could watch how the workers began setting up the huge pavilion that would serve as church tomorrow. Beyond it the ocean churned. Luca wouldn’t arrive until the next day so we couldn’t cross paths by accident before the wedding, which would mean bad luck. I honestly didn’t know how I could experience any more bad luck than I already had.
* * *
“Today’s the day!” Mother said with fake cheer.
I dragged myself out of bed. Gianna pulled the blankets over her head, grumbling something about it being too early.
Mother sighed. “I can’t believe you shared a room like five-year-olds.”
“Someone had to make sure Luca didn’t sneak in,” Gianna said from beneath the blanket.
“Umberto patrolled the corridor.”
“As if he would protect Aria from Luca,” Gianna muttered, finally sitting up. Her red hair was a mess.
Mother pursed her lips. “Your sister doesn’t need protection from her husband.”
Gianna snorted, but Mother ignored her and ushered me into the bathroom. “We have to get you ready. The beautician will be here any second. Grab a quick shower.”
As the hot water poured down on me, realization set in. This was it, the day I’d been dreading for so long. Tonight I’d be Aria Vitiello, wife to the future Capo dei Capi, and former virgin. I leaned against the shower cabin. I wished I were like other brides. I wished I could enjoy this day. I wished I didn’t have to dread my wedding night, but I’d learned a long time ago that wishing didn’t change a thing.
When I stepped out of the shower, I felt cold. Even my fluffy bathrobe couldn’t stop my shivering. Someone knocked and Gianna entered with a cup and a bowl in her hand. “Coffee and fruit salad. Apparently you aren’t allowed to have pancakes because it could cause bloating. What bullshit.”
I took the coffee but shook my head at the food. “I’m not hungry.”
“You can’t go all day without eating or you’ll faint when you walk down the aisle.” She paused. “Though, on second thought, I’d love to see Luca’s face when you do.”
I sipped at the coffee, then took the bowl from Gianna and ate a few pieces of banana. I really didn’t want to faint. Father would be furious, and Luca probably wouldn’t be too happy about it either.
“The beautician has arrived with her entourage. You would think they need to prettify an army of fishwives,” Gianna muttered.
I smiled weakly. “Let’s not make them wait.”
Gianna’s worried gaze followed me as I walked into the bedroom, where Lily and my mother were already waiting with the three beauticians. They began their work at once, waxing our legs and armpits. When I thought the torture was over, the beautician asked, “Bikini zone? Do you know what your husband prefers?”
My cheeks exploded with heat. Mother actually looked at me for an answer. As if I knew the first thing about Luca and his preferences, especially concerning body hair.
“Maybe we could call one of his whores,” Gianna suggested.
Mother gasped. “Gianna!”
Lily looked clueless about the whole situation. She might have been the queen of flirting, but that was all.
“I’ll remove everything except for a small triangle, okay?” the beautician said in a gentle voice and I nodded, giving her a grateful smile.
It took hours to get us ready. When our makeup was in place and my hair was pinned up in an elaborate updo that would later hold the veil and diamond headpiece, my aunts Livia and Ornatella came in carrying my wedding dress as well as the bridesmaid dresses for Lily and Gianna. There was only one hour left until the wedding ceremony.
* * *
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 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 behaving like an obedient little lady get you?”
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’ve 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 any 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 Famiglia. “No.”
Gianna smiled grimly. Lily walked over to the bed and picked up my veil attached to the he
adpiece. 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?”
My throat tightened. “No, Luca and I will spend the night in the master bedroom.” I didn’t think I’d get much, if any, sleep.
A knock sounded and I squared my shoulders, putting on my outside face. Bibiana and Valentina stepped in, followed by Mother.
“Wow, Aria, you are gorgeous. Your hair looks like spun gold,” Valentina said. She was already wearing her bridesmaid dress, and the mint color looked gorgeous with her dark hair. Technically, only unmarried women were allowed to be bridesmaids, but my uncle had insisted we make an exemption for Valentina. He was really keen to find a new husband for her. Bibiana wore a floor-length maroon dress with long sleeves, despite the summer heat. It was probably meant to hide how thin she’d gotten.
I forced a smile. Mother took Lily’s arm. “Come on, Liliana, your cousins need to talk to your sister.” She led Lily out of the room, then looked back at Gianna, who sat cross-legged on the sofa. “Gianna?”
Gianna ignored her. “I’m staying. I won’t leave Aria alone.”
Mother knew better than to argue with my sister when she was in a mood, and so she closed the door.
“What are you supposed to talk to me about?”
“Your wedding night,” Valentina said with an apologetic smile. Bibiana made a face, which reminded me how young she was. Only twenty-two. I couldn’t believe they’d chosen to send those two to talk to me about my wedding night. Bibiana’s face spoke of her unhappiness. Since her wedding to a man almost thirty years her senior, she’d been fading away. Was that meant to soothe my fears? And Valentina had lost her husband six months ago in an altercation with the Russians. How could they expect her to talk about wedded bliss?