I think of Esme in my arms. Of how long I’ve longed for her.
Nonna sat beside me, the night of the play. I could feel her gaze on my face.
She was watching me watch Esme.
During intermission, Nonna elbowed me in the ribs. She whispered into my ear, “I’ve seen that look you have on your face before in my life.”
I cleared my throat. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” Nonna gave a nod, looking off into the distance, to another time, another place. Her voice was far away, wistful. “That’s the way your grandfather looked at me.”
It happened just as Nonna always said it would when she told me I would meet the great love of my life and I would just know.
That night, I just knew.
Down deep, in the fibers of my being, I knew I was in love with Esme Russo.
And I’ve wanted her. God knows I’ve wanted her.
Today, she will finally be mine.
But the victory feels hollow.
Will she ever grow to love me as I love her?
9
Esme
Felicity moves around me, pinning my hair up, fussing with my make-up, readying me for my wedding, much like we did with her when she arrived at the castle.
Cecily came as soon as she heard the news. She sits beside me at the vanity table, holding my right hand in both of hers. Her knee bobs up and down as she shakes her foot, a nervous habit of hers.
She stares at my face in the mirror, every so often dabbing a tear from her eyes.
My eyes are dry.
“Oh, Esme. Isn’t there any way out of this? Just last night we were dancing and now you’re only an hour away from marrying…him.” Her nose turns up with distaste. “Luca is such a…a…brute.”
He certainly was last night.
I loved his rough touches, his aggressive kisses.
How can I explain to Cecily how my feelings toward Luca are so rapidly changing…when I barely understand myself? I give a shrug. “He’s not so bad.”
Her jaw hangs open. “Not so bad? Not so bad! Do you remember the time he put the slug down the back of your dress? Or dropped the toad in your lap? And the way he tugged on your braids every time you would walk by. He was such a bully, too. Always ready to beat up any boy that crossed him…” Her words trail off and she gets that faraway look she often gets when she’s thinking.
“What is it?”
She gives me a long stare, her expression going funny.
She goes to answer, then stops. Looking away, she shakes her head. “It’s nothing. Just a rumor I heard.”
I give my hand a tug in hers. “Tell me. What were you were going to say?”
She bites her lip like she’s holding in a secret.
One poke to her ticklish ribs and she’s laughing. “Okay, okay I’ll tell you. Gosh—I never can keep secrets from you, can I? But it was just a rumor. I heard from Annaliese who heard from Gretchen who heard from Mark Rubio—”
Mark Rubio—the creep that was always undressing me with his eyes, then one day, out of the blue, stopped. “The guy Luca got suspended for fighting our freshman year?”
She gives a nod. “Yes, that’s him. Anyway, when Gretchen asked Mark what he did to set Luca off, he said it had something to do with you. That he had made some joke, or I don’t know, some lewd comment about you. Something about you being a ripe peach and wouldn’t he like to take a bite of you—”
“Gross.”
Her nose crinkles. “Right? You know how they all are, always talking about sex and never having it.”
She blushes a little after she says it.
She’s a virgin.
She says she’s saving herself for marriage.
I think her brothers have just never let her get close enough to a boy to explore.
She clears her throat, continuing her story. “Anyway, he said Luca got up in his face and told him he’d kill him if he ever heard him talk like that about you again. That’s when Luca punched him.”
Was that around the time Mark stopped giving me those lewd stares, always running off in another direction if he saw me? “I heard Mark tried to fight him back. But Luca would have won.”
Luca always won.
I remember that day, Luca’s eyes falling heavy on mine as his friends pulled him off of Mark.
Was Mark talking about me?
And if so, was Luca trying to protect me?
And what of the other boys? The other fights?
I was kind of a flirt, chasing boys around when I was younger. Had I given myself a reputation?
One Luca felt he had to defend?
But why would he feel any responsibility toward me? It just doesn’t make sense.
Another question comes to my mind.
After Luca graduated, he still came to the school, every afternoon, to walk his youngest brother home, even though Sergio was a head taller than me and no one would dare touch a Romano.
But still, Luca came. Every day.
The brothers always seemed to leave at the same time as me. Always walking a few strides behind me.
I could feel his gaze on me until I would turn to take the road up to the castle.
This was before Vincent adopted me, before I officially became a Russo and was protected by the Russo guard, still able to go back and forth to town on my own.
Even then, did I have someone looking out for me?
Cecily’s changed the subject, prattling on about my dress, my jewelry, trying to keep it light, filling the heavy space with pretty words, but I can’t focus on her chatter.
Another memory comes to me. Stronger than the last.
When I was fifteen, I borrowed one of Vincent’s horses, riding it down to the creek. I wasn’t supposed to ride alone but I always like the freedom of it. I guess a little part of me always liked breaking the rules.
It had rained buckets the week before and the creek bed was muddy. I was guiding the horse down for a drink but I hadn’t realized just how slippery the ground was. The horse tripped and I almost fell from my saddle. I got myself righted, but the horse was pulling back on the reins, spooked.
I was scared, afraid I would fall, or that the horse would fall and injure his leg.
Luca appeared from the wood, coming out from nowhere. He gave me a look that made me feel naughty. “What are you doing out here, all alone?”
At the time, I didn’t even question it. It just seemed normal, to have him appear when I’d gotten myself into trouble.
He calmed my horse, stroking his nose, murmuring sweet words to him. Then, he hopped on the back behind me, surrounding me with his warmth, and grabbed the reins from me as he rode me home to the castle.
There were the many times I’d dashed from the castle, always late for school, forgetting my lunch. And every time, a paper sack with a ham sandwich and apple appeared in my cubby. Even then, I must have known it was him.
Then, there was the night of the play.
I was so nervous through all the dress rehearsals, stumbling over my lines, that the director became worried, even floating the idea of using the understudy. I begged him to keep me in, promising him I could do it.
There was magic in the air that night; I could feel it as the lights turned on to me.
But then nerves bloomed in my stomach, threatening to make me stumble over my words.
I found his face in the crowd.
He held my gaze. Gave me a firm nod.
And I knew that I could.
I felt his eyes on me for the entirety of the play.
Knowing he was there, watching me, gave me the confidence that I needed.
And until this moment, before hearing this story from Cecily, I denied it all.
But now that I’ve acknowledged his true presence in the background of my life, I can no longer live in denial.
Felicity’s hand touches my shoulders, bringing me out of my deep world of thoughts. “You look beautiful, Esme. Are you ready?”
I meet her eye in t
he mirror, and when I answer her, I mean it. “I am.”
Cecily pulls me into a tight hug. “I’ll always be here for you, Esme. I’m just a text away.”
Hugging her back, I give a laugh. “We only live a short walk from each other.”
She looks at me with serious eyes. “It’s ten minutes to the Romano place.”
A silence falls over us.
I catch my dear Sophia dabbing at her eyes.
It’s been such a whirlwind, I’ve forgotten what happens after the wedding.
I have to leave home.
I have to leave the castle.
I have to leave Sophia and Vincent and Felicity.
Of course, I can visit anytime, but it won’t be the same.
I give a laugh. “I guess this is part of growing up.”
Felicity clears her throat. “We should be going. You know Vincent doesn’t like to be late.”
“Girls!” As if given a cue, we hear his voice bellowing up the stairs. “We’ve got to get going. I don’t like to be late.”
The timing is priceless. We break into a fit of giggles, a much needed relief after a tense moment.
Sophia comes to me, taking my face in her hands. “Listen here, girly, no matter how you got here, no matter what circumstances led to this moment, know that this is a happy occasion. A wedding is the most joyous affair and you should be happy.” She holds my face, staring at me, as if to read my mood.
I give her a smile. “Don’t worry, Sophia.”
“I’m not worried. Luca is a good man and he would lay down his life for you. He will provide for your every need. In my day? That made him a good man and we cherished good men.” She kisses my cheek, letting me go. “All will be well.”
All will be well…
“God, this dress looks so much better on you than me.” Felicity takes my hand, leading me from the room. “Just like all the clothes you borrow from my closet.”
In the short time we had to prep for the wedding, Felicity had the tailor alter her wedding dress against the dress I wore on graduation. It’s a slinky white silk slip gown, the back rising into baguette-encrusted halter straps. She had the tailor add fluttering cap sleeves and move the bow from the back of the neck to the waist to make the dress my own.
Our tailor is an expert and even though Felicity is quite a few centimeters taller than me with a smaller bust, the dress is now a perfect fit.
I give her hand a squeeze. “Thank you for having this altered for me. And for giving me your dress.”
Her eyes shine with happy tears. “I’d give anything for you to be as happy as I am with Vincent. Don’t forget, we too had an arranged marriage and a rocky start. I hope you and Luca can find happiness like Vincent and I have.”
Sophia chirps up from behind me. “I know she can. He’s a good man.”
A good man…
A man who would marry me to keep me safe.
A teen who fought to protect me.
A boy who gave up his lunch.
Maybe, just maybe, fate has played a hand in this day.
Maybe, Juliet has found her Romeo.
Let’s hope our union doesn’t end in bloodshed.
Vincent is waiting at the bottom of the stairs. When he sees me, the look that crosses his face almost makes me cry.
I fear he will miss my absence the most. In this moment, as I walk down the stairs toward him, I feel in my heart that he is my father. I don’t need a piece of paper, an official adoption. I only need to see the look in his eyes to know what I mean to him.
What I’ve always meant to him.
When I reach him, he pulls me into his arms. “Esme, my darling. You are so beautiful. So sweet.”
“Thank you.”
He pulls away, staring into my eyes. “My daughter. I’m so glad your little basket found my doorstep.” He kisses my cheek.
I give him a smile. “Even though I’ve caused so much trouble?”
“Especially because you cause trouble. I’ve always loved your spirit.” His gaze lowers, his voice lowering with it. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you.”
He looks so solemn it makes my heart hammer in my chest. What has he been holding back? “What is it?”
His gaze captures mine. “There’s a reason I didn’t adopt you sooner.”
I’d always thought it was his gruff nature, his inability to show affection that kept him from the gesture. “But I thought you just needed a push, that Felicity was the reason you finally—”
He shakes his head. “No. There was hesitation on my part, but solely for one reason—the Russo name comes with danger attached to it, and I wanted to keep you safe. I figured if you were just known as an orphan, a kitchen girl, if no one knew how important you were to me, then you’d be safe. If no one knew how much I love you…no one would try to get to you, to hurt me.” He looks to me as if to see if I understand. “I couldn’t bear it if you were hurt because of me.”
I do understand where he’s coming from.
But I would have still wanted to be his daughter.
I want to tell him that I love him. That I love them all. My throat feels tight and I can’t say the words.
I offer a smile. “I understand.”
He gives a shaky breath. “Felicity finally convinced me that you’d rather bear my name and the danger that comes with it, than to go on not being my daughter.”
“She was right. I would rather be a Russo and fight for my place, than not be your family and be safe.”
Pain flashes in his gaze. “But look where’s it’s led you. An arranged marriage.”
I think of Luca climbing in my window last night. Luca’s hands on my body. Luca’s scent on my skin. I think of Vincent and Felicity’s own arranged marriage, and how happy they’ve grown to be.
Just as I would prefer the risk of taking the Russo name over not, I’m prepared to take the Romano name today.
I give him a smile. A real one. “I think fate had a hand in today. And I know, in the end, it will be as Sophia says. All will be well.”
Relief washes over his face. “It brings me comfort to hear that you feel that way.”
“I do.”
Recovering from the emotion he’s shown, he clears his throat, and offers me the crook of his arm. “Shall we go?”
I wind my arm in his and he leads us from the castle.
The air is fresh and a welcome relief to my flushed face as we make our way over the pebbled path to the cars.
The ride is short, but somehow seems long, each moment drawing me closer to my future. I gaze out the window over the green rolling hills as we grow closer to the ocean, to my new home.
As we pull up to the Romano estate, I feel Vincent tense beside me. I try not to think of my foolish prank that led to this moment in all our lives. I try not to dwell on my silly mistake and how it will affect Sophia, Felicity, Vincent, my family.
Eventually I would have married and left. My little naughtiness just escalated the timeline, and chose the groom for me.
I had to grow up sometime.
I couldn’t stay at the castle forever…could I?
I give Vincent’s knee a pat. “I’m only going to be a little ways away.”
“I know. And you’ll be in good hands. The Romanos take care of their own. But my God, I’m going to miss having you at home.”
Home.
The car eases through the meandering valley of green grass, skirting the rolling creek until we reach the stone-framed driveway. The car pulls up to the entrance to the beautiful, sprawling, tan stone compound. Three stone arches greet us, wide steps reaching from end to end, green shrubbery adorned with red flowers welcome us.
I step out of the car, inhaling the ocean air. The old convent was built closer to the sea than the castle. I gaze out as the waves crash on the shore below us. I can’t see the fields from where I stand, but I know just beyond the buildings are the lush fields Luca loves so much, filled with bounty.
This is
my home now. The sooner I can accept it, the sooner everyone else will too, and the better off we’ll all be.
A group of men in black suits greet us under the arches. They escort us through the stone portico into the front entrance of the building, north of the part of the house I was in last night. We’re led through a maze of halls with sunlight streaming from skylights, deep blue patterned rugs, lush plants potted in terra cotta, watercolors of the sea hanging from the walls. It’s all so pretty…it hits me.
This is my new home.
It’s beautiful and regal with gardens and fields and vineyards to explore, the turquoise sea an ever moving backdrop to the Estate. The grounds, the home, they are nothing like what I had always pictured in my mind, my prejudice against our rivals, the Romanos, clouding my vision.
This is my new home, and this is will be my new family.
We step out into the courtyard.
I gaze over the place where I stood just hours before, between Rocco and Sergio, unsure of my fate. It’s been transformed. The sun shines, celebration in the air, a stark contrast to the dark night, the shouts of the men.
Almost everyone from the village is here; word of mouth in our small town spreads like wildfire in southern Italy. Dressed in their Sunday best, their finest, a few dresses I recognize from my party. And who can blame them? They’ve had only hours to prepare. They have smiles on their faces, eager to see the union of the two most powerful families in Italy.
We are like royalty to them, and they are eager to celebrate with us.
Both the Romanos and the Russos are known for their generosity toward their people. There will be more good food than can be eaten, champagne and wines pulled from the cellars, flowing like water, even though its only noon. Half the men are probably still drunk from the evening before, this wedding an overflow of last night’s birthday celebration.
I smile, greeting loved ones with hugs and handshakes.
Rockland and Tess are here, their flight wasn’t due to leave until this evening. Tess has a huge grin stretched across her face, her eyes shining with glee—I’ve heard she’s a fan of arranged marriages. She gives me a little wave and I return it.
Dark Throne: A Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Russo Royals) Page 10