by Cora Reilly
Dad sighed. He gave me a tired smile. “Your mother only wants what’s best for you.”
“She wants what’s best for our standing. How’s marrying a cruel old man good for me, Dad?”
“Come on,” Dad said, standing. “Let’s take a walk in the garden.”
I followed him. He held out his arm, and I took it. The air was warm and humid and hit me like a wrecking ball. “Cassio isn’t that old, Giulia. Only thirty-one.”
I tried to think of men his age, but I never really paid attention to men. Wasn’t Luca around his age? Thinking of my cousin wasn’t a consolation; he scared me senseless. If Cassio was like that…
What if he was a disgusting fat brute? I looked up at Dad. His brown eyes softened. “Don’t look at me like I betrayed you. Becoming Cassio’s wife isn’t as bad as you might think.”
“Irrevocably cruel. That’s what you called him. Do you remember?”
Dad nodded guiltily. “To his men and the enemy, not you.”
“How can you be sure? Why did his wife die? How? What if he killed her? Or abused her so horribly that she took her own life?” I sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm myself.
Dad pushed my bangs out of my face. “I’ve never seen you so scared.” He sighed. “Luca assured me that Cassio didn’t have a hand in his wife’s death.”
“Do you trust Luca? Didn’t you tell me he’s trying to establish his power?”
“I shouldn’t have told you so much.”
“And how can Luca be sure of what happened to Mrs. Moretti? You know how it is. Even a Capo doesn’t get involved in family matters.”
Dad gripped my shoulders. “Cassio won’t lay a hand on you if he knows what’s good for him.”
We both knew Dad couldn’t do anything once I was married to Cassio. And if we were being honest, he wasn’t someone who would risk getting into a conflict he would lose. Luca preferred Cassio to my father. If he had to choose between the two, Dad would find a quick end.
“He’ll come to meet you tomorrow.”
I took a step back, shocked. “Tomorrow?”
Mom had been very clear that I wouldn’t meet Cassio until our official introduction during dinner. I was supposed to stay in my room all afternoon while my parents and my future husband discussed my future as if I was a two-year-old without an opinion.
Dressed in my favorite denim overall dress, and beneath it a white tank top with sunflowers, I crept out of my room when I heard the bell. Barefoot, I made no noise as I tiptoed toward the upper landing, avoiding every creaking board.
I knelt down to make myself smaller and peered through the banister. From the sound of the voices, my parents were exchanging pleasantries with two men. Dad came into view, smiling his official smile, followed by Mother who radiated delight. Then two men came into my field of vision.
It wasn’t difficult to guess which one was Cassio. He towered over Dad and the second man. Now I got why they compared him to Luca. He was broad and tall, and the dark-blue three-piece suit made him appear even more imposing. His expression was steel. Even my mother batting her eyelashes didn’t tease a smile out of him. At least his companion looked like he wanted to be here. Cassio didn’t look old—and definitely not fat. His muscles showed even through the layers of fabric he wore. His face was all sharp angles and dark stubble. It was an intentional stubble, not the one screaming lack of time or care.
Cassio was a grown man, a very imposing, powerful man, and I had only just finished high school. What were he and I supposed to talk about?
I loved modern art, drawing, and Pilates. I doubted any of those things mattered to a man like him. Torture and laundering money were most likely his favorite pastimes—and maybe the occasional whore. Anxiety tightened my insides. In less than four months, I’d have to sleep with this man, with this stranger. With a man who might have driven his wife into death.
A flicker of guilt filled me. I was making assumptions. Cassio had lost his wife and was left to tend to his children by himself. What if he was a man in mourning? He didn’t look it, though.
Still, considering that men in our world learned to hide their true feelings from a young age, his lack of emotion didn’t mean anything.
“Why don’t we go into my office for a glass of my best cognac and chat about the marriage?” Dad motioned down the corridor.
Cassio inclined his head.
“I’ll make sure everything goes smoothly in the kitchen. Our chef’s preparing a feast for tonight,” Mom said enthusiastically.
Both Cassio and his companion gave my mother a tight-lipped smile.
Did that man ever truly smile with his eyes and his heart?
I waited until they had all disappeared from view before I hurried downstairs and slipped inside the library, which was right beside the office. I pressed my ear against the connecting door to listen in on the conversation.
“This union will be good for you and me both,” Dad said.
“Have you told Giulia about the bond yet?”
Hearing my name in Cassio’s deep voice for the very first time made my heart speed up. I’d hear him say it for the rest of my life.
Dad cleared his throat. Even without seeing him, I knew he was uncomfortable. “Yes, last night.”
“How did she react?”
“Giulia is aware that it’s an honor to marry an Underboss.”
I rolled my eyes. I really wished I could see their faces.
“That doesn’t answer my question, Felix,” Cassio reminded my father with a hint of annoyance in his voice. “She’ll not only become my wife. I need a mother for my children. You realize that, yes?”
“Giulia is a very caring and responsible… woman.” The word didn’t fall easily from Dad’s lips, and it took me a moment to realize he meant me. I didn’t feel like a woman yet. “She’s kept watch over her brother’s child on occasion and enjoyed it.”
I’d played with my brother’s toddler for a few minutes when they visited, but I had never changed a diaper or fed a child.
“I can assure you Giulia will satisfy you.”
My cheeks heated. There was a moment of silence. Had Cassio and his companion misunderstood Dad’s words like I had?
Dad cleared his throat again. “Have you told Luca yet?”
“Last night, after our call, yes.”
They began discussing an upcoming meeting with the Capo, which caused me to zone out for a bit, getting lost in my thoughts.
“I need to call home. And Faro and I would like to relax for a bit before dinner. We’ve had a long day,” Cassio said.
“Of course. Why don’t you go ahead through that door. The library is quiet. We still have an hour until I introduce you to my daughter.”
I stumbled away from the door when steps rang out behind it. The handle moved, and I quickly rushed behind one of the bookshelves, pressing myself against it. I glanced toward the door. Cassio and Faro stepped inside. Dad gave them another fake smile then closed the door, locking me in with them. How was I supposed to get out of the library and upstairs with Cassio and his companion around?
“And?” Faro asked.
Cassio moved farther into the room and closer to me. He was frowning, but some of the vigilance had disappeared. “Exhausting. Mrs. Rizzo in particular. I hope her daughter doesn’t take after her.”
I pursed my lips in indignation. Mom was exhausting, true, but his words rubbed me the wrong way.
“Have you seen a photo of her?” Faro picked up one of the frames from the side table, chuckling.
Peering through the gap in the books, my eyes widened in horror. He held it up for Cassio to see. I was nine years old in that photo and grinning widely, showing off my braces. Two small sunflowers were attached to the sides of my pigtails, and I was dressed in a polka-dotted dress with red rubber boots. Dad loved that photo of me and had refused to remove it despite Mom’s nagging. Now I wished he’d listened to her.
“Fuck it, Faro. Put that down,” Cassio said shar
ply, making me wince. “I feel like a fucking pedophile looking at that child.”
Faro put the frame down. “She’s a cute kid. It could be worse.”
“I sincerely hope she got rid of those braces and awful bangs.”
My hand flew to my bangs. A mix of anger and mortification washed over me.
“It works for the schoolgirl look,” Faro said.
“I don’t want to fuck a goddamn schoolgirl.”
I flinched and my elbow collided with a book. It fell over in the shelf.
Oh no. Silence descended over the room.
I looked around frantically for an escape. Ducking my head, I tried to slip into the next aisle. Too late. A shadow fell over me, and I collided with a hard body. I stumbled back into the shelf. My tailbone hit the hard wood, causing me to cry out in pain.
My head shot up, my cheeks flaming. “I’m sorry, sir,” I blurted. My proper upbringing be damned.
Cassio stared down at me, glowering. Then realization settled on his features.
As far as first impressions went, this could have gone smoother.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
I looked down at the girl before me. She watched me with huge blue eyes and parted lips. Then I realized who the girl was. Giulia Rizzo, my future wife.
I stared. Beside me, Faro was holding back laughter, but I wasn’t close to fucking amusement. The woman—the girl—who would become my wife in less than three months had just called me “sir.”
My eyes raked over her body, taking in her bare feet, slender legs, ugly denim dress, and the flowery atrocity she wore as a top. Finally, my eyes settled on her face. She still had bangs, but the rest of her hair was long and wavy, trailing down her bare shoulders.
She raised her eyes when I didn’t make a move to let her past and stiffened, obviously surprised by my unwavering attention.
I had to admit that the bangs didn’t look half bad. She was very pretty. A lovely girl. That was the problem. Dressed as she was, she looked like a teenage girl, not a woman—definitely not a wife and mother.
She touched her bangs with shaking fingers, a blush creeping over her cheeks.
She must have heard everything we’d said.
I sighed. This was a bad idea. I knew it from the start, but things had been agreed upon and now there was no going back. She would become my wife and hopefully never call me sir again.
She dropped her hand and straightened. “Excuse me, sir, I don’t mean to offend you, but you shouldn’t be alone with me without supervision, much less stand this close to me.”
Faro gave me a look that made it clear he was close to pissing himself.
I narrowed my eyes at Giulia, not stepping back, but I had to admit I liked that she stood up to me despite the power I held. “You know who I am?”
“Yes, you are Underboss in Philadelphia, but I fall under the rule of my father, not yours, and even if I did, honor forbids me to be alone with a man I’m not married to.”
“That’s true,” I said quietly. “But in less than four months you will be my wife.”
She tipped her chin up, trying to look taller. Her show was impressive, but her shaking fingers and wide eyes betrayed her fear.
“How I see it… you spied on us. We had a confidential conversation that you barged in on without permission,” I said in a low voice.
She looked away. “I was in the library when you came in and startled me.”
Faro started laughing beside me. I silenced him with a glare and heaved a sigh. I didn’t have the patience for drama. For weeks, I’d hardly slept through a night. The maids took most of the work off my hands, but Simona’s crying woke me anyway. I needed a mother for my children, not another child to take care of. “Faro, can you give us a moment?”
Giulia regarded me with uncertainty, still backed into that shelf. I took a step away from her, giving her the appropriate space. Faro left and closed the door.
“This is inappropriate,” she said in her soft voice.
“I want to have a quick word with you. Later, your parents will be around and we won’t have time to talk.”
“My mother will do all the talking. She’s exhausting like that.”
Was she teasing me? Her face was curious and cautious.
“That wasn’t meant for your ears.” I motioned toward the armchairs. “Will you talk to me?”
She tilted her head as if she tried to understand me. “Of course.”
I waited for her to sit before I took my own seat. She crossed her legs, then smoothed her bangs again, but flushed when she saw me watching. Her nose twitched. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell my mother about this—”
“Don’t call me sir,” I growled.
She winced, stunned. “What am I supposed to call you?”
“How about you call me Cassio? I’ll be your husband soon.”
She released a shaky breath. “November.”
“Yes. Once you turn eighteen.”
“Does it make a difference? How do a few more months make me a viable wife when I’m not now?”
“You’re too young either way, but I’ll feel more comfortable marrying you when you’re of age officially.”
She pursed her lips and shook her head.
“I have two small children who need taking care of. Daniele is two, almost three then, and Simona will be ten months when we marry.”
“Can you show me photos?” she asked, surprising me.
I took out my phone and showed her my background: a photo taken shortly before Gaia’s death, but she wasn’t in it. Daniele was cradling his four-month-old sister in his arms.
I watched Giulia’s face. Her expression softened, and she smiled—an unguarded, honest smile. Not like the smiles I was used to from the women in our circles. That, too, showed how young she was. Not yet jaded and guarded.
“They are adorable. And how cute he’s holding her.” She smiled at me then became serious. “I’m sorry for your loss. I—”
“I don’t want to talk about my dead wife,” I clipped.
She nodded quickly and bit her lip. Fuck, why did she have to look cute and innocent. There were so many teenage girls who plastered their faces with enough makeup to add ten years to their true age—not Giulia. She looked like seventeen, and she wouldn’t miraculously look older in four months when she turned eighteen. I’d have to ask her mother to put lots of makeup on her face for the wedding day.
She tugged her hair behind one ear, revealing a sunflower earring.
“Do you always dress like this?” I motioned at her attire.
She glanced down her body with a small frown. “I like dresses.” The blush on her cheeks darkened when she looked at me.
“I like dresses too,” I said. “Elegant dresses, fitting for a woman. I expect you to dress more elegant in the future. You have to convey a certain image to the outside. If you give me your measurements, I’ll send someone out to buy you a new wardrobe.”
She stared.
“Understood?” I asked when she remained silent.
She blinked then nodded.
“Good,” I said. “There won’t be an official engagement celebration. I don’t have time for it, and I don’t want us to be seen together in public before you are of age.”
“Will I meet your children before we marry? Or see your mansion?”
“No. We won’t see each other until November, and you will meet Daniele and Simona the day after our wedding.”
“Don’t you think it would be good if we got to know each other before we marry?”
“I don’t see how that matters,” I said sharply.
She looked away. “Is there anything else you expect from me, except for a change in wardrobe?”
I considered asking her to start the pill because I didn’t want any more children, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk to a girl her age about it, which was ridiculous considering I’d have to bed her on our wedding night.
I stood. “No. Now you should probab
ly leave before your parents realize we were alone.”
She stood then regarded me for a moment, cupping her elbows in her palms. She turned and left without another word. After she’d left, Faro came back inside.
He raised his eyebrows. “What did you say? The girl looked like she was going to cry.”
My brows drew together. “Nothing.”
“I doubt it, but if you say so.”
I was still shaking when I entered my bedroom after my first encounter with Cassio. He had been intense and cold, not to mention dominant. Ordering me to change my wardrobe? How dare he?
“There you are! Where have you been?” Mom asked, ushering me toward my walk-in closet. “We need to get you ready. For God’s sake, Giulia, what are you wearing?”
She tugged at my clothes until I started undressing, still in a trance. Mom gave me a curious look. “What’s with you?”
“Nothing,” I said quietly.
Mom turned to the selection of dresses she must have spread out on the bench before I’d arrived. “I can’t believe you don’t own a single decent dress.”
I’d always avoided going to official events because I hated the insincere schmoozing and backstabbing attitude of those who attended them. “What’s wrong with the dresses I own?”
Mom had chosen the three least quirky dresses from my collection. All of them were in my favorite retro Audrey Hepburn style. Mom picked up a sky-blue dress with white dots. “Don’t you have anything solid-colored?”
“No,” I said. Had she never paid attention to my clothes?
I had Dad to thank for the freedom to wear what I liked. While he was conservative, he had trouble saying no to me. Mom had no choice but to bow to his command.
Mom sighed then handed the blue dress to me. “This matches your eyes. Let’s hope Cassio isn’t put off by the ridiculous style.”
I put the dress on without a word, remembering Cassio’s words about my clothes and my bangs.
“Put on makeup, Giulia. You need to look older.”
I gave her an exasperated expression, but she was already on her way out. “And wear heels!”