by Lucia Black
Antonio sat next to him at the bar and ordered another round for both of them. They sat in pensive silence until the drinks appeared in front of them and Alessandro took both. Antonio looked at his brother with mild concern. “What are you gonna do?” he asked, wisely not commenting on the fact that Alessandro swiped his drink.
“What do you mean?” Alessandro set both shot glasses upside down in front of him, daring his brother to ask something dangerous.
“About Lorna,” Antonio clarified, ignoring the threat in Alessandro’s tone.
Alessandro narrowed his eyes. “What about her?” He wouldn’t admit to anything. The fewer people who knew, the better. The less embarrassing it would be that she’d rejected him. The less likely his father would be to find out how Alessandro had bedded his brother’s fiancé and that he’d had every intention of defying family duty.
Antonio rolled his eyes. “Please,” he scoffed. “We shared a womb. I know your looks.”
Alessandro made a face. “And what are my looks telling you?” Another challenge. Alessandro was at a breaking point, and he didn’t need Antonio to push him over the edge of sanity. Not right now.
A beer appeared in front of Antonio and he sipped it contemplatively. “I saw how you looked at her at dinner.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked. “And how was that?”
Antonio took a drink and set down the glass. “Little bit of a love-hate thing going on. Like you wanted to fuck her or scream at her. Maybe a bit of both.”
Alessandro made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat and looked down at his hands on the bar. Damn his whole family for being so perceptive and damn himself for not hiding it better. “What about it?” he demanded, making his voice as intimidating as he was able to in his current emotional state, but his twin brother didn’t even blink.
“I may not have been around much this past month, but I know Gio wasn’t with her.” He said it casually, then looked at Alessandro with his raised eyebrows implying that he could guess the rest.
Alessandro balled his hand into a fist on the bar and tapped it lightly. There was no use pretending anymore. Antonio knew too much to believe any of Alessandro’s half-baked lies. “Yeah. I was with her at the cabin,” he admitted. “Gio and I switched jobs so he could take care of the arsonist.”
“I’m aware.” Antonio set his beer down and raised his eyebrows. “Does Giovanni know? About the two of you?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Alessandro ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I talked to him.” But none of that mattered anymore. She didn’t want him. What could he change if she didn’t want him? An emptiness in his chest chilled him to the bone.
Antonio nodded. “Good for you.” He picked up his beer again and waited patiently for his brother to tell him more.
Alessandro sighed. “He said he wouldn’t marry her.” He looked at the wedding party, all congratulating Lorna and Giovanni, whose fake smiles still shone brightly, though the distance between them belied their relationship. Even if they sat closer, even if he put his arm around her, even if they put on an Oscar worthy performance, it would be wrong. They didn’t go together. They didn’t fit. Giovanni was too angular in his neatly tailored button-up, and Lorna was too soft in her loose pale blue dress. It was like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole. It didn’t work, and it never would.
Antonio followed his gaze and grunted. “Sure looks like a wedding to me.”
“That’s because it is,” Alessandro said, a little more emotion leaking into his voice than he would’ve liked. “He’d told me I needed to talk to dad first. Take responsibility. Gain his respect.” But admitting to unrequited feelings would lose him any respect he might have otherwise gained.
Antonio waited in silence for a moment. “But . . .” he prompted.
Alessandro dropped his head into his hands on the bar. “But it doesn’t matter. I told Gio to marry her. He has to. She . . .” He hated the way his heartbreak made his voice weak. “She doesn’t love me the same way. I don’t think she ever has.”
Antonio nodded slowly and reached out to put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, then stopped and drew it back. Alessandro didn’t want to be touched or comforted right now, and Antonio could sense it. He picked up his beer and walked back to the table to join the celebrating wedding party.
29
Lorna
Lorna didn’t even try to eat. She wouldn’t be able to taste even the spiciest pepper right now. Her head was too full of conflicted what ifs, and she needed too much of her concentration to keep a smile on her face. It wasn’t like she really had a chance to eat, anyway. Every time she lifted her fork, someone told her how happy they were for her, or how wonderful her future would be, or how the wedding would be the most beautiful thing to ever happen—and she had to agree with lies hissed through her smiling teeth.
Her cheeks ached. The beginning of a headache throbbed behind her temples. Giovanni sat next to her wearing a matching forced smile. He kept a respectable distance, didn’t touch her, didn’t invade her space, and for that she was grateful. Logan was right. He was a good man. Maybe in another life, she could have loved him. In another life, where she hadn’t met Alessandro.
Giovanni’s full plate told her he wasn’t quite up to eating either. But he laughed with his family and put up a convincing air of celebration. He was a good actor, a good liar, but based on what she saw, she was sure he’d never lied to her. Not that he said enough to her to warrant a lie. Even at these social functions, they didn’t really speak to each other. But that was fine by Lorna.
She stood up to wander back to the buffet to get some air and reset her smile. She looked past the table at the bar. Alessandro sat facing away from her with a few empty shot glasses in front of him. She couldn’t see his face, but his shoulders looked miserable, and his posture looked defeated, and the tilt of his head looked like heartbreak. She hated seeing him like this, but she couldn’t look away. In her mind, she went to him and apologized for the things she’d said to him in anger. Comforted him and promise him that she would never love anyone else.
Giovanni appeared at her side, cleared his throat, and looked between Lorna and Alessandro. He leaned in to say softly, “I know.”
Lorna’s blood ran cold. It was one thing to have feelings for her fiancé’s brother. It was another thing entirely for her fiancé to know about it. Her head snapped to look at him. “It’s not—it’s just—I didn’t—” Lorna couldn’t form a single coherent thought, and she stood there next to him, totally in a panic.
Giovanni smiled genuinely and shook his head. “No, really, it’s okay,” he assured her. She took a deep breath, not completely believing him. “It’s okay,” he repeated, emphasizing the words to try to make it stick.
Lorna still felt panicky. “What do you mean it’s okay?”
Giovanni looked at her more openly and honestly than he ever had. “This wasn’t my plan, either, you know. I know you didn’t want this. Neither did I.” For someone so physically large and threatening when he wanted to be, he sounded so small.
A sad smile was all she could manage. He was just as trapped as she was. “No. I suppose no one asked either of us what we actually wanted, did they?”
“My family never has.” He shook his head. “It seemed to work out okay for Tessa, but I suspect there’s more to that story than she’s told me. You and me? We don’t want this. We’re the only ones that can do anything about it.”
Lorna agreed, but she still didn’t know where he was going with this “But the families—”
“We are the families, Lorna.” Everything small disappeared from his voice. “We are the future leaders. We can decide how we want to live.”
The world around Lorna shifted. The balance tipped. A moment ago, she had been at the mercy of her father and Don Moretti. She had been part of a business deal. Just another pawn in the chess game. But Giovanni was right. They would take their fathers’ places one day. They would be the ones calling the sho
ts. They didn’t have to live the lives prescribed to them.
Giovanni wasn’t finished. “When we take over the business, we can solidify our families in other ways. We don’t need to get married to make an alliance. That may have been how they did things, but it’s not how I want to. I know what you are capable of, Lorna. I know how you handled business in Los Angeles. You can run the world. You don’t need to be married to me to do it. But we can certainly do it together.”
Lorna nodded seriously. “Bianchi and Moretti, allies and partners. I think I like the sound of that.” Whether or not their parents liked it, they had the power. “Then let’s call off this wedding.” She held out her hand in a gesture of goodwill. He shook it and smiled at her. For the first time, it was genuine. That was all the confirmation they needed.
They walked confidently side by side and returned to the table with lighter spirits. Mrs. Moretti beamed at them. “I was just saying how beautiful your children will be. Don’t make me wait too long for grandbabies.”
Giovanni coughed and looked to Lorna. She could see the immediate apology on his face, but he stood next to her in support. Lorna put a hand on the back of her chair, standing tall with her chin lifted in defiance. “Don Moretti, Giovanni and I would like inform you that we won’t be getting married tomorrow. Or ever.”
Don Moretti spluttered, Mrs. Moretti’s jaw dropped, and Lorna’s mother pressed her lips together very tightly and inhaled sharply through her nose. Mina ducked her head down to cover her cough with a fist, Luca exhaled a single impressed “ha,” and Tessa and Antonio looked at each other in mute shock.
“I’m sorry,” Don Moretti said, though he didn’t sound sorry at all. “Did you say you are refusing to marry my son?” His grip on his steak knife tightened, but it would take far worse for Lorna to feel threatened.
“Those weren’t my words, but you may take them as such. Yes. I refuse to marry Giovanni,” she said clearly. “He’s a wonderful man, but I don’t love him, and I never will.” She threw him an apologetic smile before lifting her chin again. “Because I’m in love with Alessandro.”
God, that felt good to say out loud. She looked over at the bar where Alessandro had been, but he wasn’t there. She wondered where he’d gone, but she turned her gaze back to the group of people she was addressing.
Don Moretti’s face resembled the cherry tomatoes on his untouched salad. “This is absolutely uncalled for. I really expected better from you, Lorna.”
She felt Giovanni take a step closer to her and stand tall. “Lorna and I have already discussed this,” he announced with the sort of finality in his tone of someone in absolute control of the situation. “This marriage is superficial and unnecessary.”
Lorna could almost see steam drifting out of Don Moretti’s ears. Mrs. Moretti blinked so quickly Lorna had to wonder if she could actually see anything. Her own mother sat silently with her mouth drawn in a tight line, watching the drama play out. Lorna squared her shoulders and used the tone of voice she’d mastered in L.A. The one that exuded absolute control. “Giovanni and I are the future leaders of our families. We’ve been groomed and guided by our fathers, and we’re expected to carry on. You both have had this trust in us. Trust that we can have the capacity to create and secure an alliance without getting married.”
She kicked herself for not thinking of that sooner. She’d been such a sheep, following orders and smiling and waving. Asking ‘how high?’ when her father told her to jump. Her heart raced in her chest, and her whole body buzzed from the thrill of standing up for herself.
“Father, this isn’t up for debate.” Giovanni sounded calm and logical. “In no way do we want to disrespect our families, but you have made it quite clear that we are the future of these great families. If future decisions are ours, then this should be too.” He shared a look with Lorna. Pride and determination and respect. “The wedding is off.”
Luca and Antonio pushed each other in flabbergasted excitement. Tessa had a smile creeping up her face. Mina whispered softly, “But the flowers . . .” and Lorna’s mother put a hand over hers on the table.
Mrs. Moretti looked around in helpless bewilderment. “Now? You really chose now to tell us?”
“We’re so used to following orders and being unquestionably devoted to our leaders, it took time for us to come to the conclusion that the wedding is superficial and unnecessary.” Lorna borrowed Giovanni’s elegant words, unable to hide the genuine smile on her face. “I realize the timing isn’t convenient, and I apologize for that, but Giovanni and I have made this decision together.” She looked over to see if Alessandro had returned, but he was nowhere to be found.
Giovanni raised a hand to placate his fuming father. “That is not to say that we are no longer loyal to the families. This is not defiance. If anything, this shows a greater loyalty.” Lorna took a moment to appreciate how well-spoken Giovanni could be, and how thankful she was that he agreed with her that this whole marriage thing was bullshit. He continued with an effortless charm that could make every politician in New York go green with jealousy. “Rather than being trapped in a loveless marriage where we might grow to resent each other—potentially harming the future for everyone we love—Lorna and I can build a relationship built on mutual respect in the best interest of both families. We can continue as partners and friends. I’d like to think we’re off to a pretty good start.”
Don Moretti still looked red in the face, wearing a terrible scowl that could sour milk and make a baby cry, but Lorna could not care less. She was free. For the first time in ten years, she was really truly free, and nothing could bring her down. “Our families mean everything to us, as they should,” she said, looking at her mother. “And we’ve been taught more than enough to carry on.”
Antonio clapped his hands together softly like she’d just finished the most inspiring speech he’d ever heard. Luca swatted his hands quickly, but he looked at Lorna with a new admiration, and Tessa nodded to Lorna with respect in her eyes. Mrs. Bianchi covered her mouth with one hand, apparently overwhelmed with every possible emotion. Lorna’s mother’s eyes crinkled. She couldn’t tell what her mother was thinking, and she didn’t say a word.
Lorna genuinely smiled at Giovanni for the first time since she’d been engaged to him. They had done it. They’d beat the system. They weren’t going to live the rest of their lives tolerating each other and feeling guilty for not being in love. They wouldn’t be bringing children into a family forced by circumstance. They both had a chance at a happy ending.
And it all felt so damn good.
30
Alessandro
Alessandro’s fingers tightened around the neck of the tequila bottle as he fished his keys out of his pocket and tried to get the door unlocked with one hand. The door opened before he thought he’d really unlocked it, but everything felt sort of fuzzy around the edges and he assumed he just didn’t feel the click.
He wasn’t quite drunk, but he planned to be that way by the end of the night. He knew it wouldn’t help. He knew he would never drink enough to forget her. Even alcohol couldn’t burn her from his mind, couldn’t rip the image of her standing with Giovanni at the altar from behind his eyelids.
He closed and locked the door behind him and turned to set the tequila down and grab a glass, but he froze in his tracks. At the piano bench, caressing the keys with gentle fingers, sat a familiar woman with dark hair. She looked up at him and smiled to crinkle her clever, honey-brown eyes.
For just a moment—just a single fleeting moment—the world was perfect. She was meant to be here. She always played for him when he returned home after a long day. Or when she returned home after a long day. The songs she played for him and for herself were different, and he like the pieces that were fast-paced and angry when she played to work through her frustrations. She belonged on the piano bench, and he would bring her a drink and kiss her. They would go to bed, and he would wake up next to her and see her again in the same place on the piano bench tom
orrow. Everything was right and good. She was his. For just that split second, she belonged to him.
Then she stood up, and the moment shattered. He set the tequila down on the table with a heavy clunk that brought him fully back to the dark reality of the present moment. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She blinked at him. He flung an arm toward the door. “I figured you’d still be practicing your wedding vow with my brother.”
“Decidedly not.” She shook her head and laughed softly, sitting down at the piano again. “When did you get a piano?” she asked. Her fingers traced the keys in the way he wished she would trace the muscles on his chest or his arms, or run her fingers through his hair . . .
“I bought it for you,” he admitted, forcing his mind to focus. “Back when I was stupid and naïve.” He cursed himself for all the times he thought he could win her back. For believing that she would have chosen him. That he ever really had her to begin with.
She raised an eyebrow quizzically. He huffed at how annoyingly cute she looked. He didn’t need that extra temptation right now. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“No, I didn’t,” she agreed, then played a chord on the piano and tilted her head with a slight wince at the note that was out of tune enough for even Alessandro’s fuzzy brain to notice. “I was kinda hoping you were learning to play.” She played some arpeggios and smiled at him smugly.