by Lisa Cardiff
“Marcello, I would like to present my daughter, Emilia Trassato.” He released my arm and nudged me forward.
His head whipped toward me, his stare wintry and implacable. His face was lean and harsh with dimple-like grooves framing his mouth. He looked dangerous in a way that both drew me to him and repelled me. I searched for traces of the man who wrote those letters to me, and I didn’t see anything except ruthlessness and determination. A chill raced between my shoulder blades, and for a fraction of a second I contemplated turning around and running away from him, this party, and my life.
Without him even opening his mouth, I already gathered that he wasn’t someone you screwed over, and I’d been actively plotting to do that for years. There’d be hell to pay when I left in a month’s time. I almost felt bad that my father would have to deal with the consequences alone. Then I remembered this quagmire was his own creation, and I felt a considerably better.
“Miss Trassato, it’s a pleasure to see you.” His voice was smoky, and his lips verged on mocking as they curved into a partial grin. He crossed the room with quick, deliberate strides and pressed an impersonal kiss to each of my cheeks. My heart sped up both from the brief contact and from the trepidation coiling around my lungs.
“Hello, Mr. Masciantonio.” I sounded as if I ate sandpaper for breakfast.
My father glanced at his watch. “Everyone will start arriving in fifteen minutes. I’ll come in and get you both then, and we’ll make the announcement.”
“Give us closer to a half an hour,” Marcello said, his voice brooking no argument. “We have a lot of things to discuss before we make an announcement.”
“Everything is already settled,” my father shot back.
Marcello shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. I’d like to make sure your daughter and I are on the same page. That’s all.”
My father turned the force of his attention on me, his eyes communicating silent threats not to mess this up, or maybe it was my imagination. “I’ll be back soon.”
When the door closed behind him, I flinched, and my heart ground to a momentary halt.
“Let’s sit.” Marcello waved a hand in the direction of the camel leather sofa.
“I’ll stand.”
He chuckled and grabbed my hand. When I tried to pull it away he tightened his grip. “I’m not your enemy, Emilia, but that will change if you fight me.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, hoping to appeal to the man from the letters, not this cold, hard person in front of me. Surely, that man would free both of us from this barbaric bargain.
He cocked his head to the side, one inky brow arched and his startling blue eyes skewering me. “This?”
“Agreeing to marry me? I’m sure there are plenty of women in Chicago that’d be happy to have you. I don’t understand what would possess you to marry someone you’ve never seen.”
He released my hand and lifted his glass to his lips, drinking the last sip and setting it onto a side table. “I’ve seen you. Or have you already forgotten that I caught you spying on my conversation with your father years ago?”
“That doesn’t count.”
“I’ve seen you since then.”
When?”
“I watched a piano performance about six months ago. I think it was your last one.”
“Why didn’t you approach me?”
“You were otherwise engaged.”
“Otherwise engaged? You mean performing?”
“No. I came backstage afterward.”
“Oh, right. Someone approached me about studying at a music conservatory. I guess I was preoccupied that night.”
He smiled, but nothing about it was friendly. “I heard about that. I was talking about the man kissing you though.”
My entire body froze, and I struggled to draw enough air into my constricted lungs. “I think you’re mistaken.”
“Am I?”
My attention bounced around the room looking at anything other than him. Fessing up would probably be the best course of action right now. It’d smooth things over, earn me some honesty points, and in the long run it wouldn’t matter since I was never going to marry him. Something inside of me blocked the confession from surfacing, and I settled on a whitewashed version of the truth.
“Hmm. Maybe you’re right. I can’t remember that night all too well. I was excited about a scholarship offer, and it’s entirely possible I kissed someone in celebration. You know, now that I think about it that’s probably what you saw.”
His lips quirked and then smoothed out in quick succession, leaving his face too blank for my comfort. “That’s an interesting assessment of the situation.”
“Assessment?”
He perched on the edge of my dad’s desk and scooped up a clear Lucite paperweight, transferring it from one hand to the other while he looked off to the side, likely considering his next move. Second after second passed, my ears honing in on the steady tick of the grandfather clock behind me. Pinning me with his icy blue irises, he finally asked, “Do you want to know my assessment of the situation?”
“Not particularly.”
His lips twitched again. Damn him for finding this situation funny. “Too bad. I’m going to tell you anyway.”
“Great. I can’t wait,” I grumbled, feeling like a child caught in a lie, and perhaps that’s what I was.
“You and Salvatore D’Amico are having an affair.” I opened my mouth to contradict him, and his hand sliced through the air. “Don’t interrupt me. I’m not finished. As I said, you two are having an affair. While I’m not happy about it, I’m not going to punish you for it. However, I won’t permit it to continue.”
My teeth locked together. “How gracious of you. I’d hate for you to be forced to punish me.”
“Esattamente! I’m glad we’re in agreement. I want us to start our marriage with a clean slate. Until today I was a faceless man you were told you’d marry. I tried to remedy that and alleviate some of your uncertainty through our correspondence, and hopefully, I was successful. Now that we’ve met and we’re announcing the engagement, I expect you to act like an engaged woman, which means no more alone time with Salvatore. No more longing glances, kissing, or whatever it is you do with him. All of it stops as of today. I don’t want other people whispering about my fiancée’s history with another man. Are we clear?”
“And are you going to act like a man engaged?” I sneered. I had eavesdropped on enough conversations to know these mafia jerks liked to have their cake and eat it too. They put their wives on a pedestal while having a woman on the side, a goomah, or whatever those assholes called it.
“That’s only fair.”
“Perfect.”
“So we’re on the same page?”
“Yes.” I shrugged. I’d be gone in a month’s time. Once we were out of here, Sal and I would have all the time in the world to be together.
“Good. Now come here and give me a kiss.”
My eyes widened. “A what?”
“A kiss.”
My mouth dropped open and I shuffled backward. “No.”
His thick brows dropped over his glittering sapphire eyes. “I’d prefer to get the awkwardness of our first kiss out of the way in private, but have it your way. We can do it in front of a hundred or so people.”
“We’re not kissing in private or in front of anyone. We’re announcing our engagement, eating a few appetizers, and that’s it.”
He tugged my hand, hauling me flush against him. I smelled his spicy citrus scent, and his body heat burned me through the layers of his fitted suit. “We’re definitely kissing after the engagement toast. It’s up to you whether that’ll be our first kiss.”
“Kissing’s definitely not necessary. Everyone knows we’ve never met before. They don’t expect us to do anything except smile, pretend to be happy, and accept this arrangement without complaint.”
His arms curved around my waist, holding me firmly, his fingers tapping a mindless beat against t
he curve of my waist. “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong. It’s very necessary. I need to send a clear message.”
“To who? The guests? They’re only here to gossip about us later.”
“I’m only interested in one guest. Salvatore needs to see firsthand that you’re mine so he remembers to keep his fucking hands off my property before I cut them off.”
With that warning, he bent and his lips pressed against mine, moving back and forth, demanding something I didn’t want to give. Something I wasn’t free to give, or at least in my mind. I tensed, making no move to retreat or reciprocate.
When he pulled back, my shoulders slumped with relief. His kiss was warm and pleasant, but it didn’t set me on fire like Sal’s did, and that realization vindicated my decision to run away. I was doing the right thing. Our letters were simply a bunch of sentences that didn’t mean anything.
He eyed me for a few uncomfortable beats, rubbed a hand down the side of his face. “You’ll do better next time.”
“No, I won’t. I’m not interested in kissing you to make Sal jealous. It’s stupid and immature, and it won’t prove a damn thing. Sal knows what’s expected of me.”
“I gave you a pass on whatever happened with Salvatore in the past, but if you make a fool of me today, you and Sal will not like the consequences, and I promise you, I’m a helluva lot more powerful than Salvatore. He can’t protect you. In fact, neither can your father, not without pissing off all of the wrong people.”
I swallowed hard, knowing he meant what he said. “No, you’re right. I’ll play along.” For now, I silently added.
Marcello reached into his pocket, pulled out a dark blue velvet box, and popped it open. A ring with a square cut white diamond surround by tiny black diamonds perched between the folds of silk. My throat squeezed in on itself. I couldn’t have found something I liked more if I went to the jewelry store myself, and it matched the bracelet he got me. The same one I wore every single day, keeping it tucked under the sleeves of my shirt, except today. I didn’t want him to know how much I loved it.
“I’d like this to be on your finger during our announcement.”
My hand came to my mouth. “I can’t, Marcello. I don’t feel comfortable. We barely know each other and—”
“Of course you’re going to wear it. We’re engaged.” He slid the ring on my finger, not giving me a choice. “And I refuse to stand in front of a room full of people and announce our engagement while you have a bare finger. It’ll set a precedent that I don’t give a shit about my future wife and people will get it in their head that they don’t have to respect you.”
Resigned, I lifted one shoulder. His words made sense, or they would have if I actually intended to go marry him. “Okay, whatever you think is best.”
Eyeing me with more than a little suspicion, he laced his fingers through mine. While my knee jerk reaction was to pull away, I didn’t do it. Marcello could make my life a living hell if he didn’t trust me or if he had any indication I planned to renege on this archaic plan he had hatched with my father. “Are you ready to face everyone?”
“No, but I don’t have a choice.” I gawked at his sharp, unforgiving face. “Why are you going through with this, Marcello?”
“I have my reasons. That’s all you need to know.”
“Connections,” I mumbled.
His eyes darkened, a muscle in his square jaw contracting, and I sensed the frustration pouring out of him. “Something like that. Now, let’s go before your dad gets impatient.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
My father flashed a brittle smile when we emerged from the study. “Is everything all set?”
“It is.” Marcello placed his hand on my lower back and guided me forward.
I let him because I didn’t have a choice. From the minute my eyes collided with his, I felt as if a tornado had swept into my life and flung me around without regard for the consequences.
When we entered the great room, my heart was still pounding, and my muscles were doing a good impersonation of overcooked noodles. At least a hundred sets of eyes gawked back at me, but the only one I could see was Sal.
Marcello’s arm shifted, sliding around my hip, pulling me tight to his side. He grinned down at me with a look I could only describe as possessive. Then his gaze cut to Sal and the air buzzed with unexpected tension.
I didn’t have time to dwell on it because my father handed Marcello and me a glass of champagne and stepped forward, his hands raised in the air. “Family and friends, it is with great pleasure that I announce my beautiful daughter’s engagement to Marcello Masciantonio. From the moment I met this man, I hoped he’d make a wonderful partner for my Emilia. From everything I’ve heard, he is loyal and smart. I’m overjoyed he’ll be my son soon. I know my wife would’ve felt the same. Salute.”
The clinking of glasses echoed through the room, and I stood in front of everyone who was anyone in my life, completely unresponsive and lightheaded. A toxic concoction of panic, dread, and restlessness seeped into my veins, and I painted a nauseatingly fake smile on my face. As best as I could tell, no one noticed or cared. They saw what they wanted to see—a compliant daughter accepting her fate.
“To my beautiful fiancée. I can’t wait to start our life together.” Marcello tapped his glass against mine and I lifted it to my lips, letting the sweet bubbles pop on my tongue before sliding down my barren throat, nearly choking on it and the strange reality of life.
He set our glasses on a nearby table and cradled my face with his big calloused hands, a diabolic gleam in his eyes. Where his hard body touched mine, my skin became hot, needy. In retrospect, I should have given him what he wanted in my dad’s office, and maybe he would have spared me from making a scene in front of everyone. Apprehension clawed up my chest, and I shook my head slightly, hoping I could convince him not to kiss me when I couldn’t fight back without turning this whole party into a spectacle I’d never live down.
Rather than yielding to my not so subtle plea, he tightened his hold on me, and his lips slanted against mine. I stiffened, and he whispered against my mouth, “Relax and put your arms around me, little Emilia. It’s only a kiss. I won’t hurt you, and you won’t hurt me since you promised to keep your biting tendencies in check.”
My mouth parted at his joke, and he took advantage. His tongue thrust inside, kissing me, teasing me. I whimpered, and my arms tightened around his shoulders like he was the only thing keeping me standing.
My stomach danced, and my nipples hardened. Every brush of his lips or curl of his tongue turned my world upside down. All the reasons why this was a bad idea slipped my mind, and all I wanted to do was drink in everything he had to offer, damn the consequences. When we finally separated, my hands remained on his shoulders and our legs tangled like lovers. Marcello smirked, and I shut down from what could only be shock.
Light, tittering laughter pierced my kiss-induced haze, reminding me where we were. The implications of what I’d done settled deep into my bones and flames licked my face. I elbowed him, desperate to regain my sanity and keep this man at arm’s length. My eyes flitted sightlessly around the room, seeking out Sal, and he was nowhere to be found.
I inhaled deeply, shoving away the guilt taunting me. Sal knew how I felt about him, and he understood what I needed to do to make the future we planned together a reality. Both of us had to play this role for another month, then we’d be free to do whatever we wanted. No price was too high for our freedom. We could do this. A few kisses wouldn’t change anything.
I detached myself from my fiancé’s side and wove through the crowd. I concentrated on greeting my family and my dad’s business acquaintances with the expectation of losing myself in meaningless conversations and empty congratulations.
As I passed by my cousin, Gian, he grabbed my hand and pulled me into a quick embrace. “I bet your dad you wouldn’t go along with this whole marriage thing, but I guess he was right and I was wrong.”
&n
bsp; I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“He thought you’d accept it without fighting too hard, and judging by that kiss, he was right. I still believe you’re too young to get married though.”
I rolled my eyes. “It was a kiss. It didn’t mean anything. The odds are still in your favor.”
His golden eyes sparkled with humor. “It didn’t look that way to me.”
“Yeah, well, Marcello made it clear he wasn’t a man who liked to be crossed. I’m playing along for now.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I shrugged. “Nothing you need to worry about. Go back to your date or whoever you brought with you.”
“Are you kidding? I’m not dumb enough to bring anyone within ten feet of a family event. My mom would be discussing china patterns and the benefits of a summer or winter wedding within ten minutes. And unlike you, I have no intention of settling down until I’m forty.”
“Yeah, right. Your parents will ride your ass until you find some nice Italian girl who bows and scrapes anytime you enter in the room. It’ll be hilarious. She’ll follow you around like a puppy. Yes, Gian. Whatever you say, Gian. Dinner’s in the frig, Gian, and please wipe the lipstick off your cheek before you come to bed.”
Even sheltered, I’d heard the rumors about Gian. He had women chasing after him wherever he went, and they all believed they’d be the one to change him. I pitied the woman who ended up married to him. Too bad I wouldn’t be here to watch it all play out.
Gian burst out laughing. “Madone, you make me sound like an asshole.”
“Aren’t you?”
“You love me anyway, right little cousin?”
“That’s right. You and Carmela are my favorite cousins.”
“We’re your only cousins.”
“Exactly my point.”
He hugged me again. “I know we don’t spend much time together, but we’re going to miss you when you move to Chicago. You’ll come back to visit, right?”